High School Rock

From 1999 - 2002, I attended high school. Four years of life that had a large impact on who I later became. In other words, I developed during that time.

Now, sitting in my living room on an unusually warm January day, my fiance's iPod plays on shuffle. A series of songs parade over my eardrums and I smile. I can't help but smile. Nothing will take you back in time better, more efficiently than a song you haven't heard for years.

Here, I'm experiencing some of the relics of my high school years. "Closing Time by Semisonic followed closely by "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith. Songs I haven't heard in years and frankly, I would be content not hearing ever again. 

But the combination of those chords, lyrics, and melody takes me back to after school cross country practice, watching the Swede pretend to tie his shoes, stupid fights with my mom about the length of my hair, that one high school cheerleader who represented my definition of love for a number of years, the strange smell of the hallways on that first day back to school in August, and saying goodbye to those familiar hallways on that graduation night when we stood in our black robes all smiles and camera flashes. 

Letting the music transport me, I realize that I'll never need a time machine. Forget the Delorean. I've got pop music to transport me to a different age and simpler time. So here's to Boss music, 105.7 KTTL, and the Alva High Band of Gold for keeping me in touch with the music of my generation.

Cooler Weather; Colder Beer

For a moment, just a moment, she walked into my line of sight. Her. The "she" that haunts my dreams, makes them hopes, makes me hope. The "her" who I can never get out of my mind, but I try. I swear I try. And try.

You spend days peeling back the memories, going over every part of your house like it's some sort of inventory day, in hopes that you can remove all traces of her. In hopes that she will not sneak up on you when you're not ready. I did all that. Spent days going through old pictures. Pictures that weren't necessarily of us or her, but of things we did together. There was the one of the fountain down near the park. She took the picture right before I fell in. Of course she'd tried to take one after, but her laughter prevented her from managing.

I found it, and I threw it away.

It's just a picture, after all. A picture of a fountain. Not that I don't like the fountain and not that it's not a good picture, but what if I'm going through the drawer where I keep my pictures and I find it? What then? The memory will hit me and I'll have to spend the day trying to come up with ways to remove the memory from my head.

I did so well until today.

All she has to do is walk by, without so much as a glimpse my way, and I'm devastated. Completely. My day is ruined now and I didn't even show up on her radar.

And October used to be my favorite month of the year.

The Dance of the Infamous

Dance on, Dance Man

Show the world your smooth legs.

Wear all the designer’s clothes

To make you look great.

Collapse in a fit of hunger,

Waiting too long to eat.

You can beat them once you join

And you will never be the same.

Jam on, Jam Man

Win the world with your tunes.

Cover your arms in ink

Because it’s the cool thing to do.

Shake it hard on a stage,

Party hard behind it.

Be their leader everyday,

Let them down and love it.

Dance on, Dance Man,

Dance, man, Dance.

Wear your clothes a little tighter,

And give the world a taste.

Dance in your own light,

And try not to fall down,

Just keep on dancing, man,

Dancing with the crowd.

So What if I don't Capitalize?

While at church on Easter Sunday, I learned a valuable lesson in capitalization. While singing a praise song, the words pop up on the screen, "O death, where is your sting? O hell, where is your victory?"

While this may not catch everyone's attention, as an English teacher, I find joys in the little things in life. This happened to be one of them. Without capitalizing the word Hell, they've used it's more inappropriate brother, hell. Hell, representing the Christian afterlife for non-followers of Jesus Christ, should always be capitalized because it is the proper name for a place. While hell is better known as a curse word and is incidentally commonly preceded by the word "Oh".

So while in church on Sunday, I sang along with the words, "O hell." And I couldn't help but wonder if I was considered to be cussing since I knew the difference in the non-capitalized and the capitalized.

In reality, however, I simply had a good giggle about the typo and went on enjoying church.

I Always Liked That One

I found her t-shirt today.

The red one that she always wore. I tried not to cry when my hands touched the fabric. The tears came anyway.

White letters decorated the front. They said something, formed words I should know. Every picture of her in my mind has that shirt. Every memory, she wears red.

I found that shirt today, and I thought of her. Of every good time. Of every bad time. I remembered her for the first time in a while. She must be mad that I have her shirt. It was her favorite one after all.

Cleaning out these memories isn’t as easy as she made it seem. It’s slow and tedious, and at times, it hurts. At least for me, it does. Sometimes, the memories are so raw that I can’t continue.

            But I must.

I want to be rid of her. At the same time, I want her here. That’s the reason I’ve put this off for so long. One side is finally winning. Finally I move on.

My mom never helps. “What happened to that girl?” she asks me every time I talk to her. “I always liked her.” I just tell her that I did, too. I always liked that one.

So I pack all of her things into one box. All the memories go in. I drop them in the dumpster outside my house. I say goodbye to her, all of her memories.

Everything but the red t-shirt.