My She's All That Moment

It's been so long I don't know where to begin. Here's to hoping you all had black-out drunk St. Patty's Days! Mine? Not so much. Ebeth and I went downtown and met up with the usual crew. The only difference from any other Saturday night were those cheesy green beads around my neck. Early on in VIP, I recognized a guy I graduated with from high school. I'm always surprised when I see people from high school downtown. I didn't particularly enjoy high school and ridiculous as it sounds, I like to think of the downtown area as "my turf." For the most part, it seems most everyone I graduated with is married or tends to stick to the bars south of the river, but occasionally, I bump into former classmates. This is why I was so upset when I realized Ugly High School Snot lived in my apartment. Although I'm pleased to report she has vacated the premises as of several months ago and has returned to the southern suburbs (what would I do without MySpace?).

I never said one word to this guy in high school. He was the embodiment of your stereotypical jock -- captain of the football team, charming, boyish good looks. And of all the things to wear on the eve of St. Patrick's Day, what does he show up to the bar in? A tan suit. Tan blazer, open with blue button-down shirt, and tan slacks. Yes, in March, the snowiest month in Minnesota. Yet it still looks sharp on him. Not that I ever thought he was hot -- he's way too cocky for my taste. No, my heart only has room for one cocky bad boy as evidenced by my 7th grade journal entries. Yet I couldn't help but feel slightly giddy when he passed by me, stopped and said I looked familiar. Even though we had speech class together where we were required to stand alone at the head of the class and engage the audience try not to put them to sleep with your articulate, eloquent [mono]tone, I never expected him to recognize me. But he did. I suddenly found myself willing to overlook the fact he failed to recall we went to high school together when he somehow remembered my name, as if it just appeared out of thin air or in some bizarre premonition. I'm not sure who was more shocked. For that instant, I suddenly felt like I was back in high school. Or watching a made for TV movie where the popular guy knows the shy girl's name. Yup, that was me.

That's all I've got time for now. Try to post more later.

High School Snot Invading My Territory

Thankfully, I'm not old enough to attend my 10 year high school reunion (haha, suckers), but I share md's sentiments about those years of my life -- former classmates are better off left in the past.

At my high school, the cool guys were "jocks" and cool girls were "preps." I can't imagine the term "prep" in that context is still in use today, but what do I know? I'm fucking ancient. In the popularity hierarchy, there were two rungs so to speak, the "really cool" and the "cool." The latter group consisted of the girls who had "really cool" friends, but they weren't part of that inner circle. They were destined to remain an outsider due to one or more of the following: a.) weren't pretty enough b.) didn't have a big enough rack or c.) got good grades

A year ago I was in the elevator of my apartment, about to leave for work, when it stopped on the 4th floor. Much to my horror, the doors opened to reveal UglyHighSchoolSnot. Shocked, I didn't say a word. And neither did she. Who is UHSS? She's one of those lower-rung, not-pretty-enough chicks. In fact, she suffers from a., b., and c. -- all of the above. While we've never spoken, I have this inner hatred toward her. In elementary school, she happened to befriend the right group of girls so by the time high school rolled around, you could tell by the smug look on her face she thought she was better than everyone else.

Out of ALL the apartments in Minneapolis, why must she occupy mine?!? I've been in my apartment four years now -- seniority should count for something. Why can't she respect that and move to the other side of the river? To make matters worse, she switched units a few months back and now she lives right down the hall.

What irks me the most is I see her on a daily basis! Not only do we leave and arrive home at the same time every day, making for awkward elevator rides, but we pass one another going opposite directions while running across the Stone Arch Bridge. Yesterday I doubled my normal run (13 miles, woo hoo) so she ended up passing me and going in front of me as I hit the halfway point. It was disappointing to realize I couldn't keep up with her pace, but it was a valiant effort on my part -- I can be pretty competitive when I want to be. I kept thinking to myself, I bet she's not doing 13 miles!

Maybe she's actually a very nice person and I will never know, but I associate her as a representation of all the popular preps I'd just as soon forget.