Tag: school
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Losing a friend, and then really losing a friend
It didn’t feel real to me when she died. It had been years since I had seen Anna, years since we had last spoken. Sadly, our last conversation had been a difficult one, and we had both ended up in tears. After that I had tried to put her and the high school drama behind me…
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Losing a friend, and then really losing a friend
It didn’t feel real to me when she died. It had been years since I had seen Anna, years since we had last spoken. Sadly, our last conversation had been a difficult one, and we had both ended up in tears. After that I had tried to put her and the high school drama behind me…
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High school photos round 3
I thought I published this a long time ago, but it appears I didn’t actually hit “publish.” If you want to see old photos of me and my friends, here you go! Here are pictures from 1995-1996: See photos from 1993-1994 here and read about the photos here and here.
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A childhood, found 15 minutes away.
It’s the 1980s and I complain as my legs burn against the sun-heated blue vinyl of Mom’s Oldsmobile. We are getting ready to head to The Complex, where we go almost every day during every summer that I can remember as I child. The perfect place to cool off – a huge indoor pool (my…
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Seeing your byline not always a good thing
Amy suggested we write about the first time we got published, a topic which should have been easy for me but instead I started getting muddled in the details: First time I got what published? – A book? Dictated from me to Mom, who wrote it down on construction paper and tied it together with string, 1983.…
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Seeing your byline not always a good thing
Amy suggested we write about the first time we got published, a topic which should have been easy for me but instead I started getting muddled in the details: First time I got what published? – A book? Dictated from me to Mom, who wrote it down on construction paper and tied it together with string, 1983.…
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Cold hands, cold hiking, and I miss my mom
Apologies if this doesn’t make much sense. I’m on deadline and I’m sleep deprived. I asked Chris what I should blog about and he said “cold hands make it hard to type.” Which is true – I make a lot more typos when I’m cold. So apologies to those of you who Instant Message with me, because…
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When stars and Spin Doctors align
I have known Amy since we were both 8, so most of our child and adult memories include each other at some level. Even if we weren’t there, we were there. In fact, I wrote in one of my diaries in high school, about making out with a boy: “I couldn’t wait for it to…
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High school photos round 2
I wrote about posting some old photos on facebook recently. After more digging and scanning, I have more! Here are some pictures from the 1993-1994 FMHS school year. I’m posting the ones that were on Facebook plus new ones, for those that don’t have FB. I will display other years in other posts. I apologize…
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Busted for tapping on a boy’s window
A memory It is 1993, the day before Christmas Eve, and I have told my parents I’m staying at Carmen’s house. She’s told her parents she’s staying at my house. A risky move, but one that has worked a few times. We are out playing all night long, driving around, hanging out with people at…
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Old diaries, new perspective
I decided very early on that I wanted to be a writer. Elementary school, in fact. I always wanted to be a novelist (and this year, I will be!) but around fifth grade, I decided that might be too difficult to break into the industry and be a bestseller, so instead I would “just” be…
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A first love
This is an attempt to capture with words the purity of a first romance … and the ability to reflect on it years later with fondness. A memory It’s 1993, I am 15 years old, and this is no summer romance. No, this one sparks during a snowfall and a power outage, and this one will warm me for…
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Waffle House, an exboyfriend, and being 18
A memory It is 1996, and we are seniors in high school. Brian and I had just broken up, so things are weird between us. Susan, Brian and I are at Waffle House, so it must be the middle of the night. I am so happy to just be in his presence, although I am…
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Laughing at the 15-year-old me (and my friends)
I may have mentioned that I’m slightly addicted to organizing. When the baseboards have been cleaned and the tile grout scrubbed and the light fixtures dusted (yes, I’m serious), then I move on to see how I can further organize something – anything. Recently I came to realize that I have no organization when it…