Jr High Hi-jinks

I met my best friend Michele in the 8th grade.  She had a very life changing move that brought her to Utah and to EJH for 7th grade, I moved there the year after.  With both of us having children in Jr. High now she wrote about her girls starting 7th grade and how hard and horrible Jr. High was for her.  I warned her on her post that I was going to share some of the fun stuff that we experienced, even some of the embarrassing stuff, to remind her that it wasn't all bad and even if she (us) did turn into Napoleon Dynamite it was okay.

This first part was just how we met. We met in math class where our teacher couldn't pronounce either of our names.  Mine was understandable, Shiflett and Rachelle, was always transformed into Rachel and Sh, Sh, Shif by then I would just answer here and let the teacher give up.  I have never understood why it was so hard to just say my name the way it is spelled! Michele's name on the other hand was just a normal name, however, this teacher always changed it to Micheal Beek.  Somehow this made us always look at each other and smile and then she would grab the roll that he set by the door and would change her absence for the teacher since she was there.  He never did catch on or say either of our names correctly that entire year. Sad!

Our next moment of connection was that we were (can still be) fashion police and would take great pride in commenting on all the outfits that others were wearing.  This was the late 80's and early 90's, there was a lot to comment on.  We were however the height of preppy by helping ourselves to her moms closet and wearing pleated skirts with blazers and loafers.  I even have pictures and may scan them in one day.  I could do that since by the time we had group pictures taken with all of our friends my hair was all one length. At least her "bad hair" was only beautiful thick wavy hair and not my crooked hair.

Michele's parents thought she was crazy the first time I came over and met them.  I had unfortunately taken the advice of my moms gay friend and let him cut my hair in a very modern haircut that wouldn't be popular in Utah for another decade or so. It was above my ear on my right side and tapered down to shoulder length on my left side.  I also let him put Henna in my hair at the same time.  Way to draw attention to an already strange haircut by turning it Bozo red.  In his defense, I did like it because I didn't like the whole following the crowd thing and I did keep my hair that way for quit a while.  I did finally decide to conform a little and cut my hair to one length but kept dying my hair red, just a more subtle red and not quit so Bozo.

I also listened to rock music, didn't watch westerns or know any cowboy poetry...her dad still teases me to this day. Especially about the hair!  I was quickly educated in the art of all things cowboy and still treasure those moments and "lessons".

We had lots of sleep overs, Dr. Pepper and cookie dough!  All of these were accompanied by lot of girl talk. Some nice and not so nice and some that was down right snarky.  As it should be for most all teenage girls.

One of those sleep overs consisted of us and one other friend that I will protect her identity because she was the helpless victim in the story. We were having such a good time and we had decided to sleep on the balcony of my apartment.  In our hast to take snacks out to our "anyone under 13" off limits area, my poor friend didn't notice that we had closed the screen door and ran right through it. She went down on top of the door.  Michele and I were laughing so hard we couldn't even help her up.  I know, we are such good friends to have :)  Once the fits of laughter stopped we quickly figured that we had better fix the door before my mom came home.  We tried to straighten the frame the best we could and put it on the track.  We went to sleep and hoped that it would not be noticeable.  The next morning my mom came out to check on us but we had closed the screen door (not the smartest thing to do when trying to hide a broken door). When she tried to open it it wouldn't' budge and so we woke up to her, not quit yelling but speaking loudly, to us trying to figure out what was wrong with the door.  Instead of cowing and repentantly explaining what happened we all started laughing because we were remembering how our dear friend had looked as she went through the door.  Through peals of laughter we somehow explained what happened and that it was an accident.  After my mom got over the initial anger and frustration of how she was going to fix the door, she started to laugh as well.  Okay, who wouldn't laugh.  Just picture it and think about it, someone going through and taking out a screen door.  It was one of the best sleep overs in my life!

We made friends, tortured teachers (not as bad as our husbands did though), and tortured one nameless girl that we will forever tell stories about.  Jr. High was just the beginnings of what we would bring to High School.  And that will entail a whole series of entries that I could start sharing soon since Kelton started High School (and drivers ed) this year.