Sorry it’s a two-parter. This theme doesn’t allow long posts, and I haven’t fixed it yet.
1 Who was your best friend?
I had two best friends, Stacy and Kim. In stereotypical girl form, at any given moment two of the three of us were fighting, putting the third friend in the middle. I can’t say it led to a lot of social stability for me.
2 What sports did you play?
Ha ha ha ha hahaha. Um. No.
On free choice days in gym class, my friends and I would ROCK the badminton court. I will say I was pretty good at that, but I only made the effort at it because it was safe. No one else wanted to play it but us, so there was never any real competition. Come to think of it, that is pretty much par for my entire high school course.
3 What kind of car did you drive?
Back in the day, Drivers Ed was offered through the school. I learned to drive in a powder blue 1989 Ford Escort hatchback. Ah, good times. My first car was a 1984 pavement gray Ford Mustang.
4 It’s Friday night, where were you?
Pre-car: Home, I guess, or at Kim’s or Stacy’s house. I don’t really remember. If I was home, though, I was on the phone with one of them.
Post-car: Anywhere my friends wanted to be. I was the only one with a car, so I was the taxi. And, as can be expected, I became quite popular with a lot of youngsters, and we spent considerable time at Detroit clubs known for serving underage kids. Hey. Don’t blame me. I didn’t drink since I was driving – at least, that was my story. The truth is I didn’t drink because I didn’t want to get busted drinking underage. Why were we there? Who knows. But the end result is that I was building the necessary social contacts so that I could grow up and marry a rock star. (see item 22.)
5 Were you a party animal?
Ha! Ha ha ha ha hahaha. Um. No.
But I did find the rock club party atmosphere intoxicating in its own right. I was smitten with the idea that a person could be so self-confident that they would play in a band, let alone play a show. To this day I get a little lightheaded, in that dizzy drunk way, when I watch a band I know and love play live. It’s like a contact buzz without the contact.
6 Were you considered a flirt?
I hardly think so, but there might have been times when I came across as flirtatious and didn’t know it or I meant to be and it didn’t work because I had no idea what in the holy hell I was doing.
7 Were you in band, orchestra, or choir?
Band. French Horn. All the way until my senior year. I quit because:
a) I sucked.
b) Do you know what the music department does to French Horn players during marching band season? We got stuck playing the Flugelhorn. If you think I sucked at French Horn, you should have heard me on the Flugelhorn.
c) C’mon. Do I need a third reason? Um, okay. To piss my mom off. She wanted me to stay in band because, I don’t know, maybe she thought four years of band would keep me from getting pregnant before I got married, or something. Also? It worked. Not the pregnancy prevention, okay well I guess that too, but the pissing-off. When she found out I quit, she went through. the. roof. Through It.
8 Were you a nerd?
For humanities and all sciences that were not Chemistry, yes; math, no.
9 Did you get suspended/expelled?
Nope, but I did do a stint in Summer School. That’s a story for another day.
10 Can you sing the fight song?
No, but I can tell you it was the same as the Notre*Dame fight song and for years after high school, I could sing the Flugelhorn part.
11 Who was your favorite teacher?
Mrs. Hall and Miss Rhode. Both English teachers, and both treated me like a human after my brother died, instead of how everyone else in that school did – like a firecracker that didn’t go off but should go off any second now it should go off but it hasn’t gone off.
12 School mascot?
13 Did you go to Prom?
Why, I certainly did. My junior year, I went with my boyfriend Rob, who was a senior. It is painfully obvious to me that he wanted to have sex with me, and because I was naive, I did not put it together until that night. I honestly thought Prom was just a dance. Too cute for words, huh?
Then, my senior year, I planned to go to Prom with my asshole boyfriend, Jim. He was an asshole. I knew he was not the ideal, Cinderella-Prince Charming Prom date, but he was my boyfriend and I did want to go to Prom, even if it was with an asshole. And he was an asshole.
I don’t remember how it happened now, but we got into a fight, I told him I wasn’t going to take him to my Prom, he said he didn’t want to go anyhow, and I guess we broke up. The next morning, I approached my friend, with whom I had planned to double-date and share a limo, and he suggested a replacement date. For the rest of this saga, please hold until item 22, which will appear in Part Two.