To piggyback off the whole remembering older things better than more recent things, the same could be said about my school days.
My hometown has the same big-city attitude that most cities have, in that life is a giant popularity contest; the problem, besides popularity contests sucking in general, is that my hometown is just that... a town.
Honestly, I kinda get it... I mean, we had a former NFL player, and one of the "Real Housewives" used to live there, so that kinda put us on the map, per sé, at different timeframes. I won't say which Real Housewife, or which show she is from, but I will say she came to my family Thanksgiving one year and posted a photo of us from the event on her X, formerly Twitter. That's a big flex in my book, as I'm sure you can tell since I made a point to mention it.
But yes, here is where the piggybacking comes into play. I can remember some things that happened in earlier grades of school, than later ones. Remember when I mentioned your mind might be doing you a favor by forgetting certain things? I can't help but wonder if that's the case... but it certainly gets me thinking.
Alright. So, I'm just gonna give you a quick run-down of grades in order, and anything notable that happens in that time frame, I'll tell you as quickly as I can. If I don't remember any significant details for that grade, I'll just say that, as well. And, if there is anything that happens within that time frame that warrants more details – or even a chapter of its own – I'll mentally stick a pin in the topic to address later. Let's go!
PRE-K: If you rewind to when the boys lined up to tell me goodbye as my momma would show up to pick me up? This was around the time that happened. This was also around the time I ended up with stitches after a small fall at the babysitter's house. She had these glass crystal rocks in the flower bed in the backyard. I decided I wanted to pretend I was Dominique Moceanu – one of my idols when I got a little older. I doubt I knew who she was at that point, but I'm insinuating I was pretending the edging around the flower bed was a balance beam like I was some wannabe Olympic gymnast. When I inevitably slipped off the edging, my fingers scraped against one of the sharper edges of the decorative glass crystal rocks. I just got back up and ran off to continue playing, when I felt my hand drenched in something wet. I wiped my hand on the back of my pants, thinking it was some kind of moisture from landing on the ground. When I felt the wetness coat my hand once more, I decided to check it out and take a look. After observing my hand doused in a viscous, crimson-red substance, I knew I should probably let the babysitter know. I had to have somewhere along the lines of I think thirteen stitches, it could have been more, or it could have been less... I honestly don't recall. But I do still have the scars on 4 of 5 of my fingers on my left hand. I also have a scar on my right eyebrow, a la Robert Welsh, although I don't recall how I got it. I mentioned Dominique Moceanu earlier. Since I don't recall what age range I was when I was a big fan of figure skating and gymnastics of competitors around my age... I'll mention it here. Dominique Moceanu, Dominique Dawes, and Shannon Miller were my favorites in gymnastics; while Tara Lipinski, Oksana Baiul, Kristi Yamaguchi, Sasha Cohen & Michelle Kwan were among my favorites in figure skating.
Okay, moving along to kindergarten.
KINDERGARTEN: There is one thing I specifically remember here, and it only takes two words that, on their own, are seemingly innocent enough – but together, make my momma shudder to her very core...
...dinosaur...
...t-shirt.
You heard that correctly. Two words placed together that can make her tremble is, in fact, "dinosaur t-shirt."
I don't know how many schools have a picture day for kindergarten and how many don't... but my hometown did. We even had them in pre-k, I still have mine! I picked out an outfit that I wanted to wear for picture day, which consisted of plain purple cotton shorts and, you guessed it – a powder pink dinosaur t-shirt. My mom, of course, said that I could not wear that for picture day at school. Alternatively, she dressed me up in this cute orange and black-striped set and sent me on my merry way. When she got the proofs back, however, much to her dismay... I was not wearing what she sent me to school in. I just figured I would pack my beloved dinosaur t-shirt and purple short ensemble in my backpack so I could change into it when I got to school... out of momma's sight.
I never have been capable of being left unsupervised. This, and obvious evidence of this fact, will come into play again later.
Then come into play again...
...and again... and again.
Needless to say, I had to do picture retakes, and my momma did not order any of the first photos with said dino shirt in it. Shirts very similar to the infamous dinosaur t-shirt, however, show up in other childhood photos of me acting like a complete, total, and utter goofball. These photos come complete with crooked, rolling eyeballs, weird stances, mouth agape, and no fear of the photo being seen by potential contenders for a future spouse.
She did, however, order the retaken photos. I won't lie – they turned out super cute. Then again, I was super adorable – I looked cute in every picture.
I'm not bitter. I'm okay. I'm fine.
I'm just kiddin'.
FIRST GRADE: Nothing worth mentioning.
SECOND GRADE: Also, nothing worth mentioning.
THIRD GRADE: I landed my first boyfriend around this time. Moving along. (Haha, just kidding. I say it sarcastic like that because I know he's gonna be listening to this and I just gotta mess with him.) What's funny about this whole thing, is now his young daughter has a boyfriend and I'm secretly hoping I don't have to post bail for him.
FOURTH GRADE: Moving along. In 4th grade, I won the first round of the district spelling bee – but was eliminated in the second round. I mention it in case anyone cares – I found it to be a big flex back then!
FIFTH & SIXTH GRADES: I am gonna combine these because this time in my life is a total blur as it led up to the flames. So, I'm just gonna tell you some things that I can recall happening around this time. At least, I'm pretty sure it was around this time in my life. Anyways!
I hung out with my friends a lot, there's video footage and, I can be honest and say... I was super obnoxious growing up. I remember rambling on about a neon green inflatable chair for a full twenty minutes once. I probably still do shit like that to this day, I'm sure.
I'm too scared of asking my friends and loved ones.
I don't feel up to having my feelings hurt right now.
Maybe later, when I'm braver.
Sometimes, people can get all bent out of shape over a dude wearing a dress. But I grew up wearing the top couture from "Space Jam, Threw Up on Me, Unlimited."
Think back please and refer to the infamous dinosaur t-shirt era – I was the sheer definition of a tomboy growing up – yet no one had any qualms about that. Oversized graphic tees with logos I knew nothing about, baggy gym shorts, and sneakers made up the core of my wardrobe throughout grade school. It probably didn't help matters that I was also very flat-chested. I'll cover more on that in a bit – as it plays a role in another story I'll tell you about later.
I'm sure you've had plenty of time to adapt to my random moments, so now is just as good a time as any to point out that I've noticed a significant influx of more and more people within my age demographic getting more and more randomly scattered piercings and tattoos... including myself. I think I finally discovered why my peers, specifically, have started doing this.
It's because we grew up with stick-on earrings.
If you ever had the misfortune of growing up with those awful stick-on earrings that just ended up being jewelry for your hair at the end of the day... if you know, you know.
This is also right around the time when what happens in the next few chapters... happens.
There are some things you should know first.