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I thought I had trouble with boys in middle school, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. High school opened up a whole new series of horrible awkward encounters, beginning on the very first day. After all, now I was old enough to actually start dating, though it took most of three years to get that far. With the progression of my teen years came a progression of awkward encounters marked by a serious lack of understanding of the basics of flirtation. I also failed to understand myself much of the time. I was only just recovering from the uncomfortable transitional phase that was middle school, which in turn had been mostly a recovery from my childhood. High school meant I could focus on learning who I was, who I wanted to be, and how to get there. I spent most of ninth grade as slightly liberated from my middle school self, and not until tenth grade (which was terrible) did I begin to develop into the person I am today. That awful experience led to a much more pleasant junior year—better both in that I was happier, and happier with who I was. Then I moved to Austin, and I took a wrong step in my senior year by going too far with my newfound individuality, but luckily, I sorted that out when I graduated, before I embarrassed myself in college. Anyway, high school was nothing like I thought it would be. It was utterly unlike every stupid movie or book or song, and the other teenagers were not remotely what I had expected. It was exactly like middle school, only slightly less immature. The girls were still bitchy and wore too much makeup and obsessed too much about clothes; and the boys were still gross, overly focussed on sports, and fought too much. The people were mostly taller and the voices were mostly deeper, and it was a bit weird seeing male students who needed to shave, but it was otherwise very much like junior high. The stupid giggling, the gossiping, the school dances, the student council, and the fuss over academic credits were the same. Later on there would come fussing over college applications and driver's ed. For me there would be two years of Technical Theatre that would change my life. And of course, there were crushes. I had many. Only one actually resulted in dating. My first boyfriend was also my worst. In retrospect, I should have dated anyone else at all, really, but at least the grave misfortune of my token stalker ex taught me to set some standards and learn what to expect and what was—or wasn't—remotely acceptable in relationships. Learning by bad example is always a good method to mold your own policies. Not ideal, but good. Anyway, my high school ARSEs begin, of course, with a continuation of the epic saga of the Nemesis. I have listed the stories in chronological order, plus there is a color coded timeline below the list. |
