I have SO missed writing on this blog!
But when I have to tether my big computer to my phone to get 3G internet, because we live without wifi it's just a hassle, you know?
But guess what?
It's not a hassle tonight!
And that is because of the reason called "procrastination."
Which is a fancy way of saying, "laundry swallowed my couch."
So after a few months hiatus
(fancy way of saying the couch was identifiable because it wasn't Laundry Mountain),
I have returned with a story that to this day makes me roll my eyes and cringe.
In Jr. High I think we’ve all made decisions we’ve regretted. Like the time I clamped my bangs in the curling iron and then curled them opposite direction ensuring I had bangs with a ridge at the ends all day long.
I had no idea what I’d done wrong.
Or when I wore the shirt to school I’d slept in the night before.
Ewww.
Or the time attempted to freestyle dance during my magic routine at the school talent show. Holy awkward white girl dance.
But none of these come close to the horror of my decision one afternoon in the 8th grade.
My BFF, Katie, and I were in the hallway taking down all the paper from the bulletin boards and cramming them into a trash can.
This is probably because we were highly responsible students and also because Mr. Smith, being the world's best teacher, recognized this.
As I wadded up another giant ball of paper I glanced to my right and saw Andy Williamson strolling down the hall towards us.
I can honestly say I was completely, totally, and obsessively head over heels in Jr. High-like with Andy. He was the goalie for the soccer team and had a nice smile. Other than that I only knew a few creepy details like where he lived and his dog’s name--(Sugar Bear and Candy Cane Lane; I'll let y'all decide which was which).
Be impressed now, I learned that without the help of Facebook or Google. That’s some legit old school Jr. High girl stalking right there.
When I saw Andy walking towards us I immediately spun around to Katie to tell her.
Then I started to panic.
My brilliant 13 year old brain came up with a strategy:
I would get Andy to notice me, to see that I had been chosen to be out in the hallway during class time, and I was doing a fantastic job at tearing paper off the bulletin board.
I spun back around to the trash can and shoved the wad of paper into it.
I then…
I can’t say it. My cheeks are burning in remembrance as I type this.
I then climbed into, INTO the trash can and began to jump in it in hopes of killing two birds with one stone:
smashing the paper down and getting Andy to notice me in a trash can.
For the love of….
What was I thinking?!?
So on the second leap that standard classroom size 30 gallon waste basket was knocked off balance and tipped as I landed.
When my weight hit the precariously tipped can it slipped onto it’s side and I slammed onto the floor.
In the space of several seconds in my dazed processing:
Did I just jump in a TRASH CAN?
Did I just fall out of that trash can?
Did my crush see this?
Did they have to make the floors cement?
I opened my eyes to Katie doubled over me in laughter, her eyes not visible for her hysterics, and precious lamb that she is she said,
“Jordan, Andy’s laughing at you!”
……
Oh.
My.
Goodness.
...…
My Jr. High brain then had only one thought:
YES!!!
Andy noticed me!
*mission accomplished*
Me (circa Jr. High),
rockin' the shoulder pads on my Christmas Eve dress.
And then my precious sisters, Jillian and Catlin,
who look nice and normal in comparison to my adolescent-self.
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