Memories or A Circle of Hell Called High School

I was wandering through the parking lot of my high school with my children when memories came flooding over me. 

One, I made the kids march on the parking lot line with high knees and pointed toes like we did in band.

Two, I explained what it was like to sit through four years of classes in a building from the energy crisis of the 70s with tiny windows you cannot see out of. Do you know how you cope with that kind of boredom? Obvious. You write notes to your friends, fold them, and then flick them across the room like a football. Texting has nothing on note passing.

Three, I did not whine about missing valedictorian by a hundredth of a point to the guy I helped through math. I've moved on. No need to relive that again. Unless someone does care, and then I'll be happy to whine.

Four, we talked about the Lichtenstein reproduction in the cafeteria and why I still say, "M-Maybe he became ill and couldn't leave the studio."

I also told them the story of why it was necessary for me to drive to school even though I only lived a couple hundred feet from school and it took me three times as long to drive. It's actually pretty inexcusable, except that I got heckled walking by the woods and I did not have the self-confidence to hold my head up high. 

I can't say high school is overflowing with awesome memories. I remember getting teased quite a bit. I had big unruly hair and I think I might have been a nerd. It was the 80s, but my hair couldn't even be tamed by hairspray. One unpleasant memory was the popular boys behind me in lunch line making fun of me. It culminated with one of them putting gum in my hair. Do you know what it is like getting gum out of huge hairsprayed hair?

I cried. Not in front of them, but as soon as I could lock myself in the bathroom and start cutting and icing it out. There are times I'd love to go back and tell that crushed girl to stand up for herself and teach her a few helpful words.

I also have great memories. A crew of us would buy all the bouncy balls we could afford and take them to the parking garages in downtown Columbus to send them flying all over. Whoever caught the most won. 

I remember doing giant shadow shows on the side of the downtown buildings standing in front of the big lights. 

I'm always thankful to my brother's friend Mark who was willing to take me to my senior prom when I couldn't find a date. He was so much cooler than I was and the fifty dollars to talk him into going was well spent.

Good and bad memories. 

It all goes into who I am now. I can laugh at most things, cry at some, and marvel at how it all works together for good or at least some good stories walking through a parking lot.