|I'd like to think that I outgrew that awkward phase, but...|
Flipping through the pages, a little voice in my head did a voice-over every time I recognized a face:
He was so annoying back then, but now, he's a catch! Cute, smart, and fun. I wish I could have dated him. Heh.
God, even back then, she was so full of herself!
I wonder what happened to this guy? Last I heard, he was off doing drugs every other day and screwing anything that moves. [exaggerated greatly]
Wow, this girl looked so plain back then, but now she is drop-dead gorgeous!
All of it felt like from another life. I spent eight years in that school, with almost the same people in it. Nice people, boring people, annoying people, awesome people, and douchebags. It's a mark of how often I forget to look at the bright side that I can remember the douchebags better than the nice people.
My friends would probably ask why if I told them I didn't like elementary and high school. I hated it, actually, but I've no concrete reason why.
I wasn't picked on, so I don't have any cliche troubled teenhood stories, nor did I have bad grades. I was entered in Speechfests and citywide journalism competitions and essay-writing contests and actually won a few. I had fun friends and a boyfriend from another school. In other words, while I didn't have the Cher Horowitz experience of high school royalty, I sort of had it made.
It was probably all of that, however, that made me hate it. It was too made. It stifled me.
Looking at all the faces with gap-toothed smiles and hair in kiddie braids, I got to thinking, how many of these people did I keep as friends? How many did I hurt? Help? Know, love?
In college, I hope not to make the same mistakes I did back then. Maybe I'd close my 2013 yearbook with a smile of contentment instead of scorn.
Also, yay for writing a moderately meaningful blog post for the first time this year! Let's look forward to a 2011 filled with hope and love and sunshine rainbow glitters unicorns!
(Yes, I am currently filled with optimism.)