My High School Musical

High school was hell. Every morning was pressure packed with the emotionally draining dilemma of what I was gong to wear. I’d rip blouses, skirts, and sweaters our of my closet desperately trying to remember when I wore them last. At my school we had the unwritten “one week” rule – no repeat outfits for one week. Talk about anxiety. I wasn’t great at mixing and matching so by Thursday I was a nervous wreck and declared I was sick and had to stay home. “Get dressed,” my mother would declare. Fortunately my girlfriends and I traded off clothes at our lockers to keep pace. I still have no idea who has my greenish blue Villager cable knit button down sweater and if you’re reading this I’ll pay for the Fed-ex to ship it to me.
 
Yes, I probably have better things to do than ruminate about A-line skirts and cable knit sweaters but I just had three of my girlfriends from high school visit and it was like we were back in 1966. Is an afternoon of giggling and shrieking at a chic Palm Springs restaurant appropriate for grown women? We didn’t care and didn’t apologize to the other diners who glared at us. First and foremost we were convinced we all looked exactly the same. Exactly.

Barbara for reasons as yet undetermined had kept her assignment notebook from sophomore year and we recreated each and every day. We were very shallow. Birthdays, half birthdays, parties, driving around aimlessly and boys filled our waking hours. We all went to college but I have no idea how given our busy schedules. I am however, convinced Barbara was invited to more sweet sixteen parties than I was which is disturbing. I’m still shallow. I was also surprised at how many boys we mixed and matched. They were a huge part of our thought process or our only thought. Some relationships lasted three days, others two weeks and why Bill F. dropped me is still a mystery. It set me back most of freshman year. Thankfully Dave S. asked me out behind his cheerleader girlfriend’s back and I recovered. Shallow but happy again.

Our lunch lasted 5 hours yet felt way too short. There’s no end to re-living the times we shared. I liked being in 1966 again. I have to confess however I don’t look exactly the same…my hair’s a different color. I may have outgrown all my cute Villager outfits but gratefully I haven’t outgrown my high school girlfriends.

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