1. Just because someone says you can't do something does NOT mean you can't.
For example, my freshman year of high school I foolishly signed up for a public speaking course, which I thought would be good for me. Yes, good for Me- one of the most publicly shy people I know... When I realized that the class was filled with bubbly seniors, and I was clearly outnumbered by confidence, I freaked. I ran to Mrs. Phillip's office to switch out of the class, and I was met with stern resistance. "You can't sign out of this class," she had said. "You signed up for it yourself." I shrunk in her chair determined to right my own self-sacrificing wrong. Little by little, my eyes filled with tears until they had to roll down my cheeks or drown me. "I can't be in that class!" I wailed. "I'm the only freshman, and I just can't do it!" Clearly, she had a nervous wreck on her hands, and quite simply, switching out wasn't as hard as she'd made it sound.
2. Hymen who?
It was after gymnastics class, and I was happy to be rid of teacher constructed exercises. My mother and my best friend's mother stood chatting while we got ready to go home. It had been raining that day, and I enjoyed slipping my stockinged foot into my high-top sneakers. Oh, the days before cankles were ever a worry! I squeaked my feet in circles on the floor relishing in each nails-on-the-chalkboard cringe it elicited from others. "Watch me," I said to my friend. Without remembering the reason why it's not allowed to mount the balance beam in sneakers, I crawled on, started to walk, slipped and fell onto my lady parts. If no one had noticed when it happened, my cries of hysteria were sure to grab their attention. I got home and iced the area for awhile, until the pain went down, and then I was off to play with my friends. "I have to use the bathroom," I said. I sat on the toilet and could see everyone through the window happily convened in my front yard across the street. The eminent release of relief was met with another burst of pain. "It burns!" I screamed. "It burns!" Apparently, I'd inflamed my private parts and learned a valuable lesson all in one day!
3. If you don't like school, don't go.
Freshman year of high school I continued getting my way by exerting a sense of control over my own fate. I didn't like school, and not that I outwardly refused going under that pretense alone, I devised a way to stop going and get credit too. Homeschooling, but not the traditional type. Blame it on the rain, stomach pain, or sadness of the brain... I was depressed and suffered from a weak stomach or irritable bowel syndrome, but mostly a combination of both. So, to accomodate my desires, high school teachers would come to my house and teach me there while I rested comfortably and avoided the politics of high school. Yay!
Disclaimer: I now LOVE school and can't get enough of it. So figure things out for yourself, and make sure there's a positive reason for why you do what you do.
4. Try things even if they make you look or seem funny!
I'm white as can be, and there's no denying that. Somehow along the way my Irish heritage took me by the epidermis and decided to bequeath its pale pigment unto me. Sure, if I'd had it my way I'd be a bronze goddess able to pull of any color on the spectrum. Anyhow, it was eighth grade, and I decided that no one would notice I had a fake spray on tan even if all I wore was white. Wrong! This memory brings to mind a particular Jet-Dry commercial where there's mention of "streaks, spots, wipe, wipe, wipe." My palms were orange. My face was a shiny dried out version what it once was, only seemingly grazed with a bulky highlighter pen. Plain and simple, I looked ridiculous. If I could go back in time and watch myself move through the halls of my middle school, like John Travolta in "Saturday Night Fever," I would probably throw up from embarrassment, laugh hysterically at myself, or erase this post from my blog in hopes of never reminding people of that day. In any event, I did it, and I learned something. Spray tans don't work. They look fake and unnatural, and they stink- literally. I now walk the streets as a brunette babe contrasting with very light skin, and it works for me. Who knows? If I hadn't tried fake baking it in eighth grade, I might have been bold enough to try it now, and that would be very unfortunate.
5. Follow your childhood desires...
When I was little all I wanted was a plain piece of paper and a pen. I liked to draw ladies with large hoop earrings and high-heels, and I loved to write stories for them to come alive in. Now, my life is pretty much the same. I doodle pictures on paper and let my creative hand become my muse. It works, and I'm happy.
Cheers to unconventionalism! Think about what makes you stand out from the crowd, and do something about it. Write a rant, leave a comment, draw a picture, take a photograph, tell someone what you think... whatever. Celebrate you!
Today, I'll continue procrastinating my homework and stuffing my face. It's just what I do.
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