I bought an oversized Wayne Gretzsky jersey the fall of my sophomore year in high school from some resale shop on Clark Street downtown Chicago. Having a desire for some romantic story to happen to me at that age, I proclaimed that the first boy to notice this shirt would also notice (and then promptly fall in love with) me. This was confirmed by three other friends who were in my company upon the purchase of this shirt. My fashion sense was a little "left of center" and I found it appropriate to pair Wayne Gretzsky with my long, white hippie skirts, tall pink socks, and black & white Adidas soccer shoes. In hindsite, a sure fire way to catch a boyfriend ::cough cough::.
But there was a boy and he did notice my Wayne Gretzsky shirt the very first day I wore it. His name was Ben and he was in my eighth period math class. We always graded each other's assignments and I drew pictures for him at the top of his paper. My initial plan of love didn't go accordingly and that was perfectly fine. He was dating someone, she was super cute, and we all were happy being friends. He was a dear, sweet being that I shared time and space with for the following three years.
Ben contacted me via facebook a few months ago and this weekend I found a sweet email from him saying that he was happy that I looked to be doing well and that I was a "good friend throughout high school". My heart melted. I suddenly realized how hardened I became toward the word, the experience, and the facebook/friendster/myspace world of highschool. Somewhere between befriending the slow runners at the back of the pack in track (as well as the gothed out stage crew) and today, I have lost the reality that high school was a place where I toiled, smiled, laughed, leapt, sometimes cried, but ultimately developed an important part of myself. Over the years I became positive that highschool was a horrible place that I experienced nothing but saddness & lonliness. This weekend I realized he gross, gamey feelings I get from websites like friendster, the sight of my high school year book, or the thought of a reunion is all mustered by one set of relationships that went sour and for a little while broke my heart. I am so thankful that I received such a simple but dear email from Ben that was able to reveal my jaded perspective re: high school. Not that I am rushing full throttle toward any reunions but I think I feel a little more at peace with the thought that I was once there with Dr Martens & Michelle's cutout picture of Bob Dyllan hanging in our locker. And damnit, I was a good friend throughout high school (or at least, most of the time) :o).
Hey you!
My name is Jenny & this is my chance indulge in life twice-- once to experience and once to reflect. I love old trucks, succulents, and crazy-weird details that make life interesting. This is my chance to document the little things. I hope you enjoy.
