My Real Life

Have you ever had something happen to you and you are immediately transported back in time?

Yeah?

Me too.

I had an appointment at the orthopedist the other day and my Mom came over to watch the monkeys.

As I was leaving, she handed me the keys to her car and said “Wanna take my car?”

I said “Yes!” and flew out the door.

Every now and then, I love to drive someone else’s car.  It’s nice to drive something that isn’t the biggest car on the road.

My Mom has a new, bright red, Volkswagen Beetle.

Cute.

However, it’s quite a change going from a monstrous Ford Expedition to a Volkswagen Beetle.

Trust me on this one.

I get to the doctor, have my appointment,  and head back out to the car.

Not only is the Beetle lower to the ground than my Expedition, but the seat is lower in the car, as well, and as a result, it’s hard to see over the hood, which slants down rather quickly.

End result, my judgement was way off as I backed out of the space and tried to decide when I should start to turn the wheel to angle out of the space and not hit the pole next to which I was parked.

Way off.

I heard the scraping, swore a bit, and pulled back into the spot.

I knew it wouldn’t be good, but I didn’t want to look, so I re-backed out (without hitting the pole this time) and headed to the pharmacy.

The whole way to the pharmacy my stomach was flipping around and I was instantly 18 again.

In my senior year, I borrowed my Mom’s Toyota Tercel (loved that car…it was a stick…someday, I’ll drive a stick again…I really miss it) all the time.

One Monday evening in February was particularly snowy and icy, but our Key Club advisor decided we had to have a meeting anyway.

Kim was the President and I was the Vice-President, so we had to be there.

I picked Kim up and we headed to school.

However, even though I was going slowly, I hit a patch of black ice and the car slid into the guardrail and dented and scratched up the front bumper.

The whole meeting, all I could think about was what my Mom was going to say, (my Dad was out of town), and I was terrified.

I can’t say I was terrified the other day, but my stomach was in knots and while I waited for my prescription in the pharmacy, I noticed my hands were shaking.

When I got home, I asked about the kids and got a good report and we chatted for a bit and then my Mom said “How was driving the car?”

“Heh-heh…” I stammered.  “It was…um…well, I feel like a teenager right now, but…”

My Mom was just staring at me.

“I…uh…kinda scratched your car.”

As anticipated, there was a bit of a shriek-y “What?” and I explained what happened, but unlike when I was 18, I followed with, “…and of course, I’ll pay for the damage.”

In the end, she was fine, and completely got me back with a phone call, the next day, telling me that they had taken it in and the damage was $2,500, at which point I almost vomited and passed out simultaneously.

Then she told me she was joking.

She’s funny, that Mom of mine.

I wrote about this in my journal so that I can look back when one of the kids bangs up or scratches my car and remember how nervous I was, even as a 40 year old, to fess up to the damage and to be kind when it happens to them.

I have a feeling, though, that might not work.

I’m friends with a few former students on Facebook.

Very, very few.

However, of those I am currently friends with, the majority are heading off to college, either for the first time or to return after their summer break.

There are pictures being posted of dorm rooms, house rules, reunions with roommates, and just general excitement about being at college.

With every post, I think back to my first college days.

I went to The College of Wooster in Ohio, and my school was between a 7 and 9 hour drive, depending on who was driving.

When looking for schools, I remember that I wouldn’t even consider Wooster, because my Dad had gone there.  I felt the same about Trenton State (now the College of New Jersey) because it was my mother’s alma mater.

I had my heart set on Salisbury State in Maryland, until I went there and realized it just did nothing for me.

I decided to give Wooster a try, and my Dad drove me out.

I fell instantly in love.

It’s a small, liberal arts school that was plunked down in a town that felt like it was in the middle of cornfields for miles.

The buildings were all old and made of stone, and my Dad was able to tell me stories about each and every one.

I applied, I got in, I was thrilled.

As August neared, I received the letter that had my roommates name and contact information.

I daydreamed about who she was and what she might be like, and then I got up the courage to call her.

Unlike me, going so far from home, DeeDee lived 30 minutes away from campus.

She was dating her high school sweetheart and had a job at home and planned on going home each weekend.

I was disappointed because I had images of she and I becoming the best of friends and spending all of our time together, but this was how it was and I would deal with it.

I remember going college shopping with Kim.

There was this big drug store place that we went to get all of our toiletries and random items, like shower caddies, comforters, etc.

It was SO exciting and I loved looking at all of my new things, imagining what my life would be at Wooster.

One by one, we all left for school.

I made Kim, Erin and Michaela cassette tapes with music and me talking and being a goofball to remind them of home, and then we all started to leave.

Kim was the first to go to school.  The night before she left for Penn State, we all got together and cried and laughed and hung out.

Michaela left for Syracuse soon after, and a few days after that, Erin left for Grove City.

And then it was my turn.

My parents and I packed everything into the car and drove to my grandparents house, a few hours away from campus.  We spent the night, ate Kentucky Fried Chicken, and they slept while I stayed up all night, so nervous and excited.

The next day, they took me to Wooster and helped me move in.  Soon after they left, DeeDee showed up and moved in and then it was just the two of us.

We had our first floor meeting and I was pleasantly surprised to find a girl who had been in Kim, Erin, and my Brownie troop when we were in 2nd grade, but had moved to Connecticut after that.  It was so random, but really cool.  We liked the girls on our floor, and we liked each other.

There were growing pains, for DeeDee and I, along the way and we both learned a lot from each other.

I went home with her a few weekends and had a really good time.

She decided to stay on campus a few weekends and had a really good time.

My friend, Sandy, who lived in a neighboring town at home and had gone to church with me since I was in 2nd grade, also was at Wooster, living in a dorm across campus, and so she and her roommate, Cari, would come and hang with us sometimes as well.

I loved it.

I laughed more during my Freshman year than I think I did during any other year at college.

We had community showers in our dorm.  No stalls, just a big room with showerheads sticking out of the wall.

One night, I decided to take a shower after coming home from water aerobics (DeeDee and I were the only people under the age of 60 in the pool).

The night before, DeeDee and I had watched the movie “It” on television, so if you’ve ever seen it, you can imagine that I was a little edgy in a dimly lit community shower at night.

Suddenly, the lights went out.

“Hello?” I called.

Nothing.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

Then, things started to rain down on me…washcloths, loofas, shower puffs.

Scared the living daylights out of me.

Then, DeeDee’s hysterical laughter.

Then mine.

It was a time of finding myself, being independent.

Learning things like night-0wls shouldn’t schedule 8 am classes on Monday mornings.

DeeDee and I were at a Wooster basketball game when we went to war with Iraq and I remember the announcement being made and everyone taking a collective gasp in the stands.  They took a break from the game to make the announcement that the siege had begun and then they played the national anthem.  I’ve never heard it sung more strongly in a crowd, until the days directly following the September 11 attacks.

Then we all went back to our rooms and huddled together watching the footage of “Shock and Awe” and the beginnings of Operation Desert Storm.

Freshman year was a great, great year for me (despite Real Man and I dating for a bit then breaking up again).

DeeDee and I decided to be roommates for the rest of college.

By the spring of freshman year, she eventually broke up with the guy from home and met and started dating a guy from school, who she later married.

Sophomore year, I played intramural rugby with Sandy and had a blast, despite my utter lack of athletic ability.

Unfortunately, I wound up in an unhealthy relationship that lasted a little over two years and marred much of the rest of my college experience, but there were still lessons to be learned and there was fun to be had with my friends.

And that’s what I see when I see these former students of mine posting their college stories.

The potential and the amazing future for these kids, as well as my own poignant memories of how great it was.

Real Man made me very happy, a few weeks ago.

I mean, he makes me happy all the time, but you know what I mean.

There is a room off the dining room that was used as a guest room by the previous owners.

We are using it as an office.

We don’t have any office furniture, but we are using it as an office.

The closet was set up for a guest room, and is of no use to us in an office.

So, I took a little bookcase that was partially ruined in Irene, last fall, and stuck it in there to help make the closet a bit more useful.

Still, so much wasted space.

Imagine my insane pleasure upon arriving home from the beach to see what Real Man had done, one evening, when he was still home because he had to work, but the kids and I were on vacation with my parents.

My guy cut down some shelves that we had brought from the old house (the frugalista in me loves the re-purposing…and we had moved those shelves through 3 houses and never used them for anything, but knew we would some day!) and put up supports and made it a fully functional office closet (the professional organizer that lives inside me sings with joy)!

So, helpful!

My guy?

He knows exactly what kinds of gifts make me smile!

1.  I cried for a good 45 minutes the other day because I realized that Monkey Girl would be going to college (or off to do whatever she decides to do if college isn’t for her) in 7 years.

I sat at the table and sobbed and said things to Real Man like, “She won’t be here when we wake up in the morning or when we go to bed at night!  She’ll be somewhere else where I am not!”

She hugged me and kissed me and told me it would be alright (because, apparently, she is 40 and I am 11) but I just couldn’t stop imagining a world without Monkey Girl by my side every minute of the day (except for school, but you know what I mean.)

Getting a little teary typing this right now.

2. When I posted that whole “I love fall” post the other day, I forgot about my fall allergies.

They suck.

3.  I need to find a globe for a lamp we have in the living room.

Tiny and I were hanging out in the living room, a few weeks ago, and he kept going behind the couch and calling me and then I’d pop up and say “Here I am” and we’d laugh and it was fun.

Until I was waiting for him to call me and I wasn’t hearing him and suddenly, I saw the tall lamp start wobbling back and forth, and I knew it was little boy hands that were causing the motion.

“No! No!'” I yelled, while doing my best Lolo Jones impression as I attempted to hurdle the couch, and you can imagine how well that went, so as I clambered over the couch, crash went the lamp, glass everywhere.

He was so startled, luckily, he didn’t move, and I scooped him up and deposited him in the basement with his siblings while I swept, re-swept and re-swept the living room, making sure I got every last particle of glass.

And now we need a new globe.

4.  I’ve been working on my class website and I’m pretty excited about it.

I’ve got a little “This Day in History” section, all the directions for long-term assignments, and can upload all direction sheets for assessments and assignments right to the site.

There is the potential for a lot of other cool stuff and I’m hoping to play more with it during Tiny’s nap today.

Love doing new things with my classes.

You’d think after 18 years in education, it would get stale, but the good news is…it’s a career that is always new and fresh because you are always dealing with new students, and in middle school, even the same kid is a different kid every day.

It’s never, never boring!

5.  Speaking of school, I’m starting to get a little tic, thinking about all of the papers I’m going to have to fill out on the first night of school.  3 kids, 3 packets.  Good times.

Saturday night was a good night.

Real Man and I headed into NYC to meet Kim, Erin, Michaela, their significant others and some of Kim’s other friends (although why she would need other friends, I’ll never know) to celebrate Kim’s birthday.

We met up with Erin and Michaela and their husbands, then headed over to the restaurant.

After the restaurant, we headed to Koreatown for some karaoke.

It is my greatest hope that there is no video evidence of karaoke.

It was fun.

It’s about an hour and a half train ride home (because they hit every single station), so we headed out and made the 12:34 train.

We waited in Penn Station until they posted the track, then fought the mob to get to the train.

If you’ve ever caught the train out of Penn Station on the Morris/Essex line, you know of what I speak.

On the train, we took some seats on the upper level and waited.

Immediately, a woman came onto the train, sat diagonally across from us and began speaking into her cell phone in a ridiculously loud voice.

This is not a weird thing on a train.

The weird part was that I honestly believe she was speaking a made-up language.

I’m pretty good with the languages, but this one?

Totally made up.

As the ride went on, the engineer began getting a bit punchy and started singing the train stops.

“Suuuuuuuummit!  Summit, Summit, Summit!  Next stop!”

It had everyone on the train laughing, which was nice.

Until the guys in front of us started their conversation.

I’d say they were in their late 30’s, early 40’s.

They were engaged in one of those late night conversations.  You know the ones.

So impossibly deep that they are blowing their own minds.

They were talking about old television shows and somehow Golden Girls came up, at which point they both began to sing the theme song in these sensitive guy, sitting around a campfire with the guitar even though I really don’t know how to play but I brought the guitar anyway to impress the ladies voices.

They sang the entire song and I didn’t think to pull out my phone to record them.

Deep Guy #1:  You know, that song was, like, a top 10 song in the 70’s and then the show used it for their theme song.

Deep Guy #2:  Genius.  Freaking Genius.

(Genius?  I don’t know about that, but it was a top 25 hit in 1978.  Score 1/2 for Deep Guy #1.)

Then, they started to talk about books and the one guy was saying how he read “The Hunger Games” with his kids, but they hadn’t finished it when the movie came out, but they saw the movie anyway and decided to quit reading the book because the movie was so bad.

I almost stepped into the conversation at this point, but let it go.

Hunger Games?

Bad?

Whatever.

So, then the conversation moved to Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit.

Deep Guy #2:  You heard about The Hobbit, right?  About all the extra footage?

Deep Guy #1:  No, what?

Deep Guy #2:  When they filmed it and finished the editing, it was just one movie.  But, they decided to turn it into two movies.  After they watched the two, they finally decided that it was so good, they should make it into three!

Deep Guy #1:  That’s amazing.  I heard that when they finished filming, they found out that they had, like, 82 hours of footage.  That’s why they made 3 movies.

Deep Guy #2:  Awesome.  That’s just awesome.  (Completely missing the fact that Deep Guy #1 just told him he was wrong about why there are 3 movies, despite the fact he said he hadn’t heard anything about The Hobbit.)

Then one of them had to go to the bathroom.

He went and when he returned, the other went, so we had about 7 minutes of peace.

Until they began talking about music.

Deep Guy #1:  Man, you know who I really love?  Bob Seger.

(Real Man and I nod to each other because we love Bob Seger, too.)

Deep Guy #2:  Who?

Deep Guy #1:  You know, Bob Seger.  He’s had, like, 40 top 10 hits.  He’s awesome.

(At this point Real Man pulls out his cell phone because we may love Bob Seger, but we also both know he did NOT have, like, 40 top 10 hits.  Wikipedia confirmed our belief.)

Deep Guy #2:  Oh, yeah, I think I’ve heard of him.

Deep Guy #1:  Bruce Springsteen did an awesome album of Bob Seger songs.  I can’t remember what it was called.

(Real Man and I are now exchanging looks like, “huh?” because we both know that Springsteen did NOT do an album of Bob Seger songs.)

Deep Guy #2:  Are you sure you don’t mean Pete Seeger?

Deep Guy #1:  Who’s Pete Seeger?

Deep Guy #2:  You know, Pete Seeger, he sang that song…

At which point he begins to sing and Deep Guy #1 joins him.

(And I have the presence of mind to whip out my iPhone and record for your listening pleasure, but I only caught the last few notes.)

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Total sensitive guy voice, right?

And total annoying girl with large group dying to be the center of attention a few seats ahead of them right after he finishes his song.

Deep Guy #1:  Oh yeah…Pete Seeger.  That’s who Springsteen did.  But man, I love Bob Seger.

From there the conversation kind of dwindled until they got off the train and we were forced to spend the rest of the trip listening to annoying girl who got off the stop before we did.

Still, it was an entertaining ride home, as it always is when coming home from the city.  We rolled in around 2 and Tiny was up around 5:45, so you can imagine how our Sunday went, but we were so glad we went.

Always great to see the girls, wonderful to celebrate Kim, and nice to get a night out with Real Man.

And of course, good times on the train.

I can smell it in the air and can feel it in the evenings.

Monkey in the Middle has his first football practice tonight and the Giants and the Jets had their first pre-season showdown.

I’ll be spending a good portion of today working on my class website and a good portion of tomorrow updating all of my parent letters and year-opening directions for the students.

I have the packet, from the middle school where I teach and Monkey Girl now goes, of emergency forms, Home and School paperwork, and need to fill those out, as well.

School supplies for Monkey Girl have been purchased and she spent yesterday afternoon putting together her binders for A-Days and B-Days and deciding how she is going to decorate her locker.

I’m calling the chimney cleaner today so we can use our fireplace for the first time, this fall, and we took out our first Halloween books from the library yesterday.

I’m happy and getting excited, because, for me…

There is nothing like the fall.

What signifies fall for you?

Somebody was paid to make this movie.

Someone wrote the script and someone read it and said “This is great!”

Somebody thought this would be a great kick-start to their career.

So sorry I missed this in my list of favorite movies.

You don’t need to watch all 10 minutes, but you must get to the end of the conversation between Tammy and the T-Rex.

So touching.

I have a long-running love affair with the cinema.

I’ve inherited this love from my Dad, who continues his love affair as well.

Since I can remember, my Dad would take me to the movies.

Bambi at the drive-through.

The original Star Wars at the theater.

We were among the first to get a VCR, a subscription to HBO and a membership to Blockbuster.

When Real Man and I were dating, we would often go to one movie, watch it, get back in line and buy tickets for another one.

Scary movies are my favorite.

Our first date was Pet Cemetery.

We were young.  We had no responsibility.  Why not?

Once the kids came along, we seriously curtailed our cinema trips and didn’t have cable, but we did make the most of our Blockbuster card.

If there was something we were dying to see, like the Lord of the Rings movies, we would have my parents or my father-in-law sit, and we’d head out.

But, for the most part, it was rentals for us.

As the kids grew up and were old enough to go to the movies and behave, (I have NEVER understood people who take little, little kids to the movies…you can’t enjoy the show because you are constantly shushing your child, they don’t understand the show, and the people around you certainly don’t appreciate it), we would take them to kids movies that they would want to see, as a treat.

Not all, but some.

And so, the love affair continues.

This summer, we’ve taken the monkeys to see “Brave,” “Diary of a Wimpy Kid,” and “Ice Age.”  Tomorrow, I’ll be taking them to see “Paranorman.”

Real Man and I have seen “The Campaign,” and I’m waiting with baited breath for “The Possession” and “The Odd Life of Timothy Green.”

We’re financially smart movie-goers.  We have the AMC Stubs card, which gives you money back, and we try to hit the movies before 11 am, so we get a reduced rate.  We don’t see the 3D versions.

Unfortunately, my student ID no longer works.  Had to happen someday.

Why do I love the movies?

Probably for much the same reason that I love books.

I love a good story.  I want to be entertained and let my imagination run free.

A great plot, great actors, great sets, great costumes…not much like it.

Favorites?

Shawshank Redemption.  A Few Good Men.  E.T. Labyrinth.  Stealing Home.  Field of Dreams.  Three Men and a Little Lady.  Fear.  All of the Lord of the Rings Movies.  Raiders of the Lost Ark.  Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  Do the Right Thing.  To Sir With Love.  Mr. Holland’s Opus.  Air Force One.  The Ring.  10 Things I Hate About You.  Pump Up The Volume.  Sleeping with the Enemy.  Always.  Timecop.  Dangerous Minds.  An American President.  Wedding Crashers.  A Time to Kill.  Stepmom.  It’s a Wonderful Life.  White Christmas.  Amadeus.  Die Hard with a Vengeance.  The Prophecy.  Signs.  The Harry Potter movies.

I’m sure there are more.  If you mentioned one, I would say “Oh my God!  I loved that movie!”

Movies I hate?

I don’t like a lot of movies, but actually hate?

I fell asleep in Clockers.

I turned off Swingers (although Real Man and I are thinking we might give that another chance.)

I just couldn’t get into Star Wars Episodes 1, 2 or 3.  Better graphics?  Sure.  But the characters and storyline just didn’t grab me like the classics.  While I’ll stop while channel surfing to watch the originals, I can’t switch the channel fast enough to escape the new ones.

I don’t get the hype of Pulp Fiction.  “Cheeseburger Royale.”  Yeah, I don’t get it.

I’m sure there are more of these, as well, but why dwell in the negative?

So, there you have it.  Documentation of my love affair with the movies.

I don’t go around quoting the movies I love, and my love of movies is part of a balanced lifestyle.

But I love ’em, all the same.

Had to get blood work drawn this morning.

I have to go every few months, for my diabetes, but usually I can go after school, before the kids get home.

Clearly, not an option in the summer.

Of course, the blood work must be done while I am fasting, so I also need it to get done first thing in the morning.

That’s one of the fun things about diabetes.

If you don’t eat, your blood sugar can fall perilously low, which can cause all sorts of issues.

However, your blood work must be done while fasting.

Good times.

So, Tiny and I wake up, Monkey in the Middle and Baby are soon to follow.

Monkey Girl, however, is in full teen mode with her morning hours.

If left to her own devices, she won’t get up until around 9.

So, at 6:45, I woke her…much to my own peril.

I’m not in the mood for any whining, either, this morning, because the fasting means no medication and you’ll remember my Log Flume adventure?

Yeah, turns out the neck is bad…really bad.  So, after an exam where my doctor says “Wow…I can feel how tight and in spasm these muscles are!” she puts me on muscle relaxants 3 times a day and tells me to take Motrin 3 times a day.

Except today.

Because I have to drive and fast.

So, whining?  It will not be met with my usual patience.

We get in the car and head to Lab Corp.

Luckily, because it is early, there aren’t many people there, so I sign in and we wait.

Tiny gets busy walking around the waiting room, charming the old ladies, while Monkey in the Middle frantically follows him, telling him “no” and trying to control his every movement.

I keep explaining that he’s fine and to just leave him alone, but Monkey in the Middle isn’t happy if he’s not in control of everything.

I can’t even begin to imagine where he gets that from.

I finally get called and I asked Monkey Girl to keep Tiny in the waiting room.

She says, “I’ll hold him…I just want to come with you.”

Baby and MM absolutely do NOT want to come with me for fear one of the techs might be wildly tossing around needles and accidentally take THEIR blood.

So, the boys stay in the waiting room and Monkey Girl brings Tiny with me in the back.

I say “Do not put him down.”

She says, “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Until she does and the lab tech walks in and says “Ooh, I wouldn’t put him on the floor back here…lots of different kinds of specimens get spilled.”

Monkey Girl scoops him up immediately and takes him to the waiting room, and I immediately begin drawing his bath, in my mind.

Ick.

So, it’s just me and the tech now and I hold out both arms and say “They usually can only get blood out of the right arm.”

She says, “Let me take a look,” and decides that the left is the better arm.

Until, that is, she has stuck in the needle, put on the vial, dug around a little, had me clench and unclench my fist, untied the tourniquet, and slapped at my arm a little longer.

“Hmmm…let’s try the other one.”

Oh, you think?

So, she does the other arm, and it comes right out.

While all of this is going on, I can hear Tiny yelling “No! No! No!” from the waiting room and I know what is happening.

Monkey in the Middle is picking him up when he thinks Tiny is too close to the door, or too close to someone else who is waiting.

Monkey in the Middle is constantly moving that child around.

I think of the two of them like a giant claw machine. No matter where Tiny goes, MM finds him, picks him up and relocates him to some other, inconvenient place, but never quite gets him to the promised land.

So, when she puts my second bandage on, she proclaims me done and I stand.  A little woozy.

But, I gotta get out there, so off I go.

Sure enough, as I approach the waiting room, Monkey Girl is standing with her hands on her hips looking at MM who is holding Tiny in awkward position, where one leg and arm are flailing about, the others bent in some strange way, both of them yelling “No!” at each other.

Baby Monkey is in his own world, pretending to be a superhero who needs to climb on chairs to save the day.

I can see the other patients breathe a collective sigh of relief as I walk in the room and proclaim, “Okay babies!  Let’s go!” and out the door we go.

My embarrassment has my blood flowing, once again, so I am no longer feeling woozy and we head to the Acme, as we are out of milk (I bought 4 gallons on Sunday…it’s Wednesday), and to get a bagel for myself.  Terrible for me to eat, but on fasting days, it’s how I break the fast.  Carbtastic.

The kids ask if they can get a bagel, also, and I say yes, which immediately begins a conversation about whether or not we can buy cream cheese and how big the container should be and whether or not MM and Baby should be allowed to have bagels because they had Raisin Bran before we went to the lab and that Tiny doesn’t get a bagel, but maybe Baby could have his bagel and what kind of glue do I think they use to build radio towers and is it okay to have butter on one side of the bagel and cream cheese on the other and do I think they’ll have cinnamon raisin and will they have the same bus driver this year even though their bus number is different and do I think Batman has a pet and they think Tiny might have pooped, but no, he didn’t it was just one of them passing gas because it doesn’t smell like baby poop but more like big kid gas and why are we going to Acme again?

So, it’s no surprise that when I got out of the truck and dropped my cell phone on the ground, I whacked my head on the sideview mirror on the bend down to get it AND on the way to stand up.

Because that’s how it goes.

Real Man and I have been reminiscing about high school, lately.

It’s caused us to pull out our yearbooks and give them a good look-through.

We’re having a blast reading what people wrote to us.  I keep thinking about writing the quotes on Facebook and see if people recognize what they wrote.

I’m sure I wouldn’t recognize what I wrote in someone else’s yearbook 22 years ago, but it would be fun to guess!

Anyway, the things that I enjoyed looking at (and shaking my head over) were the senior favorites.

Some, I’m sure, are par for the course.

Favorite Food – Pizza

Seniors could go off campus for lunch, and most of us headed up to the local pizza place, so this one is a no-brainer.

I would have imagined this would have also been our favorite hangout.

But, no.  It was the atrium.  The wide-open space, in front of the main office, where seniors would sit on benches and talk and watch people walk by, when we should have all been in class.

Favorite TV Show – 21 Jump Street

Really?

Okay, I guess.  90210 wouldn’t start until the fall when we were all in college, so I’ll go with 21 Jump Street.

Favorite Movie – Lethal Weapon II

It had been the movie of the summer, before our senior year, and Joe Pesci was hysterical, so I can go with this one, as well.

Favorite Album – American Beauty

Grateful Dead

This does not surprise me, when I think of my class.

I, on the other hand, had to just look it up on Wikipedia.  I was NOT one of the cool crowd.

Favorite Song – Hotel California

I love that song, so I’m okay with it.

Favorite Participating Sport – Twister

Ah, to be a snarky senior again.  To think you are so ironic and be so sure of yourself.  Twister.  Ay-yay-yay.

Favorite Spectator Sport – Hockey

We loved hockey.  Our hockey team was great and drew large crowds.  We were proud of those boys.  (Ahem…and Real Man was one of them)

Favorite Actor – Mel Gibson

Remember, this was Lethal Weapon 2 Mel Gibson…not racist, crazy Mel Gibson.

Favorite Actress – Kim Basinger

I’m guessing it was because she was fresh off of her stint as Vicky Vale in the original Batman movie, because I know Kim and I were singing the Batdance song in my car on a regular basis.

“Ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?  Vicky Vale…Vick, Vick, Vick…Vicky Vale.”

Favorite Teacher – Mr. Gordon

Never had him, but think it’s interesting that our senior yearbook was dedicated to a different teacher, Mrs. Tribus, who was, in fact, MY favorite teacher.

Favorite Subject – Free

No surprise.  Seniors could have a free period if they fulfilled all of their graduation requirements and there were no electives they wanted to take.

Erin had her free period during first block, while I had Business Law.

Guess how often I went to Business Law?

Still got an A.

Favorite Car – Miata

Yeah, it was.  Hot car.

Favorite Game Show Host – Ken Ober

I’m completely down with that.  Remote Control was the first game show MTV produced (back in the day when MTV was actually awesome and showed videos 24-7).  Ken Ober was the host, and he was good.

So, you’d think that our favorite game show would be Remote Control, right?

You’d be wrong.

Favorite Game Show – The Price is Right

Oh, we were a class of contradictions.

And, our favorite munchies, probably enjoyed by half of the class while they listened to American Beauty – Doritos

So, there you have it.  Our senior favorites.

Get out your own yearbook.  See what your classmates loved.  It’s definitely been a trip looking at these yearbooks.  Think I might have to send an email to a guy who wrote in Real Man’s yearbook that they had both dated the stupidest woman in the world.

That would be me.

Nice.