In Which I Am A Very Mean Person

I read this post by She's Just Another Manic Mommy the other day. It got me thinking about things I'm done that I'm not proud of. Her memory was from when she was a teenager--I don't think it's a coincidence that mine are also from the teenage years. Underdeveloped prefrontal cerebral cortex anyone?

Social Butterfly and I had a conversation about the school dress code and visible bra straps and how hard it is to be one of the girls in 8th grade that doesn't need a bra. That conversation reminded me of this incident, which took place in the summer between 7th and 8th grades.

Backstory: I moved to Scripps Ranch the summer before 7th grade. I was befriended by Kathy who in turn introduced me to her friend Teresa. Over the course of the school year Teresa and I became much closer than Kathy and Teresa and Kathy and I were. Not that big a deal when you're an adult, but when you're in 8th grade . . .

 

This is Jenn circa 1977. You can't see it in the picture, but I actually have a pretty good figure--okay, by 8th grade standards it was excellent because I had boobs. Teresa was similarly blessed. Kathy . . . not so much.

So, we're out shopping at the mall and we hit the fabric store. Does anyone remember the Insta-Dress?  Smocking at the top, pre-hemmed, all you needed was to sew a seam up the back, add ribbon straps, and you had an, well, you had an instant sundress.

           I  have no idea who this child is, but this is the dress I'm talking about.

We're browsing, we're fingering fabrics, we're talking about how much we looooooove the song "Heaven on the 7th Floor."

Kathy: I think I'll get this fabric for an Insta-Dress.

Mean, Horrible, Opens Mouth Before Engaging Brain, Anything For A Laugh Jenn: I think you need an Insta-Figure first.

Practically before it's out of my mouth I'm apologizing. Not before Teresa laughs though. I can't count the number of times I have felt bad for this, or the number of times I apologized for it. Still, some remarks you cannot take back.

The second incident happened one hot September day in the beginning of 8th grade. We were let out of school early when the temperature was predicted to rise over 100 degrees by 11 a.m. Teresa, her younger brother (by 1 year), and I walked to her house because she had a pool.

Hmmmm. I'm beginning to see a pattern here . . . Teresa. You would think that just because she was beautiful, had perfect Farrah hair, wore her Ditto jeans to perfection, and was drooled over by 10th grade guys that I was trying to impress her. Hmmmmm.

Teresa, Doug and I are splashing in the pool. Out to the back yard comes next door neighbor Vincent. Also an 8th grader. Doug's friend and Teresa's admirer. Definitely not up to our snotty, full-of-ourselves, 8th grade standards. Still, Teresa's known him her whole life, so we let him hang around once in a while. As long as he remains exquisitely aware of how lucky he is. And he does.

Vincent: Can I swim with you guys?

Teresa: Sure. There's just one catch. You have to go get your swim trunks by jumping over the fence.

Vincent: Ummm. The fence is 6 feet high.

Teresa and Jenn (wearing string bikinis and being 14): It's up to you.

So Vincent backs up, gets a running start, and leaps over the fence. We're duly impressed. Except, he never comes back. In fact, we don't see Vincent until the next day. When we do see him his leg is in a cast. Yes, he broke his leg when he hit the ground on the other side of the fence. And he waited three hours for his mother to come home to find him rather than ask us to call for help. What little bitches were we?

Teresa got pregnant and 18 and got married right away. I'm sure she's a grandmother by now. Vincent embraced his oddity, moved to Hollywood and is doing well as a special-effects technician. Jenn started a blog and is now milking the stories in which she was a horrible, awful, shallow adolescent with a quick wit for laughs.

 

Comments

[Kalynne Pudner]

It has been scientifically established that the cruelest creatures on Planet Earth are middle school girls. I think I'm going to have the ones living in my house read this post. Thanks for putting it out there!

[standing still]

I love the photo. You rocked that haircut, man.

[gary]

Farrah hair, yeow!

[The Girl Next Door]

You Rock for posting that photo...and yeah, I am so glad my daughter is past that middle school age. I think I have permanently blocked those years of my life from my brain. Whew Cat-EE!!

[Denise]

I think there is a reason I can't remember anything from my school years. :o)

[Sue @ My Party of 6]

We had the same haircut in 8th grade! (But I was boobless.) So I guess Vincent won out in the end. (That story is funny and sad all at the same time.)

[Hilary]

I love your summary and am impressed that you're still in touch enough with friends so long ago that you know the directions their lives took.

[suburbancorrespondent]

They still have the Insta-Dress at Joanne's Fabrics...

[david]

Love the haircut!
Great story

[Suzanne]

I am sorry. But I find this very funny.
Yes, you were mean...but I blame it on Teresa fully. She obviously was a bad influence. We have all had a Teresa in our life....poor vincent

[Alesia]

Have you ever read Finslippy's post on dumb mom moves? It will make you feel so superior (but you may die laughing).
http://www.finslippy.com/finslippy/2008/01/we-are-all-winn.html

[Cheri @ Blog This Mom!]

Poop. I was in the middle of a perfectly decent comment and then "poof" it was gone. If it shows back up again half-assed, sorry.

I'll try again:

Jenn, We have all said and done things as teenagers that we wish we could take back. You are a glass-half-full kind of gal, so instead of feeling bad now, be glad that you have learned from it and shared what you learned. Some girls do not learn such lessons and the mean girls grow up to be the mean mommies. You're a good one. Plus, the 8th Grade Jenn looks pretty sweet to me. I'm glad you're my friend, in the Blogosphere and for 7 out of 10 Thai.

[The Mom Bomb]

You know what? It's hard to be one of the middle-aged moms that doesn't need a bra. *Sob!*

Oooh, sister, you were a snarky little she-devil. Now I know why your other blog is called "San Diego Bitches". :)

[Suzy]

Look at it this way, you KNOW that somewhere down the line Vincent pulled some shiz on some girl somewhere so I think he was going to deserve a broken leg ONE DAY.

[Kellan]

Those are not "happy" childhood stories from your past - but, I'm sure you have many stories wherein you tell how sweet you were too!

Have a good day - Kellan

[Wenderina]

Ah...been there, done that. And been there, had that done to me. Rites of passage I guess.

[melissa]

I'm almost 40 and I don't really need a bra. Oddly, I'd probably rock in an insty-dress now!
Oh that poor boy. I agree, a rite of passage to have a bit of bitchiness in the past.

[Don Mills Diva]

Oh Jenn you had ne laughing out loud! I was just like that when I was 14 - just too cool for school. Poor Vincent - bless his poor wee broken-legged soul!

[Domestically Challenged]

We've all said things we'd like to take back, but at least you can admit it -
love the photos!
Have a lovely weekend
Hen

[Mary-Momathon]

eh. I'm going to hell too. See ya there!

[Lori]

I don't want to remember these things. I was the flat as the board one that was teased. My daughter is about to enter 8th grade and I'm pretty sure she's one of the "mean girls", even though I try to make sure she's not.

[coffeeyogurt]

in 7th grade, my best friend and I repeatedly name-called a boy "queer" .. he was annoying (teased us about our periods and called us out when we carried tampons to the bathroom) so it wasn't un-provoked but it was still mean and hurtful.

these days its my son who is teased, except its "gay" now, not "queer" .. Its been very trying for him.

karma, huh?

[Jess]

Oh god, I don't even want to THINK about junior high.

I was a real a-hole in elementary school, and junior high was payback time.

(How much of an a-hole? I once stuffed a girl in a school dumpster. THAT much of an a-hole.)

[Tricia]

The best part of junior high is graduating from junior high. You know...there are some people who never pass the stage you're talking about. They are still mean and nasty today. Give yourself a hug. It's quite apparent to everyone here that you learned the lessons and graduated with honors.

[JCK]

The last paragraph was the best part!

It is hard to look back at ourselves, most especially when we don't like what we see. Maybe writing about it helps ease the burden. I wonder what happened to Kathy? :)

[Reluctant Blogger]

haha what a bad girl you were.

I'm sure I was equally obnoxious but I must have cut all those memories out of my mind because I have sat here for a while now and I can't think of one example. But I am pretty sure there were plenty. I quite like my selective memory on occasions!

[kate]

well, you have made up for it. you're very nice now.

[Manic Mommy]

Everytime RC pours syrup on the dog (not exaggerating for effect) I tell myself that I'll be grateful to have boys when puberty kicks in.

Poor, poor Vincent. You know he had Jenn and Theresa voo doo dolls.

[Jennifer H]

Poor Vincent. I wonder how he tells the story? :-)

Yeah, I need an Insta-Figure, too.