Do you have a defining moment in your life when you discovered the concept of "cool" and also simultaneously realized you were definitely not cool? Yeah, I have one. OF COURSE I DO. Also, this story ended up longer than I anticipated...
The year was 1991 and a classmate (let's call her Christine. That might actually be her real name, I have the worst memory for things like that) had invited everyone in our fifth-grade class to her birthday party. I was a bit surprised, it was a girl that I did not hang out with or talk to; she wasn't in my social circle (and by "social circle" I mean two other girls, Lorna and Jackie. Hey, I remembered some names!). Christine hung out with the other pretty girls and they all had boyfriends and would sneak off to the creek to make out (at least, this was the "gossip" that I heard, I honestly don't know if the making out part is true). I was busy playing double dutch and wearing shirts with my best friends names on them in puffy paint (this is probably why I remember their names, I wore that shirt like every week).
Another girl (I think this girls name was Thuy, but don't hold me to that. I think she was Vietnamese) arranges to be dropped off at my house so my mom can take us both to the party. This girl shows up at my house in a similar party outfit, a ridiculous poofy nineties atrocity. I'm feeling excited about pinatas and candy and weird cake with almonds on it, cause every birthday party I went to had cake with nasty almonds on them. Like, hello, yummy cake! Just kidding, we fucked it up with all these nuts. (I have since revised my opinion of nuts in baked goods, but I still prefer no nuts).
There weren't any two-story homes in my neighborhood, and at this point in my life, I don't know how many homes I've ever been in (I led a cloistered childhood) let alone any with two floors. I'm in awe and I'm excited. Maybe I'll get to run up and down the stairs! Maybe if that's not allowed, I will at least try to stand near them and peek upstairs. What could be upstairs anyway? I just remember my thoughts were completely preoccupied with stairs because that is totally normal.
The birthday girl's mom opens the door and is surprised because we are early (on time is late to my parents, so my family is always awkwardly standing around while the host is trying to still get stuff together for the party. Like I need more reasons to be awkward). She was also fairly excited about our party dresses.
She calls out to the birthday girl to come downstairs, your friends are here! (Um, friends is a stretch there lady...). There is a bit of a pause then she stands close to the stairs and yells up some more encouraging words for the birthday girl to come downstairs. This is when I start to feel weird. Even my socially stunted brain started to sense something was not right.
Slowly Christine descends the stairs and stops halfway. She sees it's us, not her friends like her mom said. Her mom gushes, look! They are wearing cute party dresses! I told you to wear one!
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| I don't remember what her shirt actually looked like. And yes I purposely drew her to look like Ariel, ha, this isn't what she looked like in real life. |
The birthday girl looks slightly annoyed. She is wearing a New Kids on the Block tee and jeans. I'm not sure what New Kids on the Block is. A TV show? A movie? Something on cable? I don't have cable and it seems everything I don't know is on there. I make up my mind it must be a cable thing (I also did not quite understand what "cable" was, I knew it was a TV thing somehow, just that it was something other people had, and I did not).
I'm also beginning to put together this social puzzle and realize that of course this girl didn't invite me to her party. Her mom did. That makes a lot more sense.
The mom has me and Thuy sit on the couch to wait while she finishes up decorating and getting party things together. The couch is black leather and the tv is HUGE. It's the biggest tv I've ever seen and I'm a bit in awe of it. It's like I'm at the movies! (I think at this time in my life I have been to the movies maybe 3 times, tops: Pinocchio, Duck Tails, The Land Before Time). She asks if we've seen The Little Mermaid in an offhand way while she is already opening up the VHS case and I say no, I don't know what that is. She pauses and looks at me like she wasn't sure if I was messing with her, and gives me a face like what kid hasn't seen this movie let alone not know what it is??? And slowly puts the tape in the VCR.
(I had to look it up, The Little Mermaid came out in 1989 and this is 1991, so yeah, not a new movie).
AWESOME. It's a cartoon! That's a relief. I'm sitting on a comfy couch in front of a huge TV with a cartoon I haven't seen! And I don't have to interact awkwardly with the birthday girl? Introvert heaven. But soon more kids show up and I'm supposed to go in the garage that the mom set up with New Kids on the Block decorations: plates, balloons, napkins, the whole bit. I kind of just want to finish the cartoon but reluctantly join the party.
(Fun fact: I've only just recently seen The Little Mermaid in its entirety)
I don't remember much of the party except there were party games and such in the garage. One game was running back and forth to pop balloons by sitting on them. I don't even remember what I bought her. Probably something she didn't want.
In hindsight, I realize that most likely the birthday party was pushed by her mom, not something the girl wanted at all. Christine was really reluctant about the whole thing. I'm thinking maybe the mom was feeling a little lost about her daughter growing up so fast. It was definitely a very childish type party for her, I think a slumber party with her best friends would have been more her level.
Christine was the type of girl that made me wonder if we were even the same species. She was a french maid for Halloween that year complete with a feather duster (keep in mind, this was the fifth grade, so we were TEN-YEAR-OLDS), and I wore my ladybug costume that my mom made for me. I wish I had a photo of it. It was like two round pillows front and pack and a hood that velcroed under my chin with antennae on top. This would be the THIRD YEAR IN A ROW that I wore this costume. I really liked that costume, it made me so happy to wear it (and later, my younger brother would end up wearing the same costume. I wonder if my mom still has it? I should try to rock it one Halloween). A guy in my class had been in my classes the past few years and had asked me if I was going to be a ladybug again and if my mom was bringing cupcakes. Yes and yes, ya'll!
The last day of fifth grade Christine wore a pair of jean shorts with the phrase "Can't Touch This" bedazzled on it. I had no idea that it was a song lyric, I just remember thinking how inappropriate it was for her to be wearing it. Heather was judging her hard that day. Hello, we were only ten. This is the one time I think the sarcastic phrase "you must be fun at parties" is apropos because, no I was (am?) not.
In middle school, I happen to have PE class with her 7th grade and I saw that not only were her bra and panties matching, they were black. I was wearing a faded training bra with little flowers on it that clasped in the front and too big for me white briefs. She was light years ahead of me at every stage and yet it only made me feel awkward for the few moments I interacted with her, it never sparked a change in me to not go home and play Barbies or make a little house out of mud blocks I painstakingly hand formed to be identical in size and drying in the sun and then building a little cabin out of them that my younger brother would fill with worms so it wouldn't be empty, or try to find clothes that looked more "fashionable" (I didn't even know what brands were, stores just had clothes, you know?). So that in itself is perplexing, I could recognize cool, but I wasn't interested in being cool.
But seriously, that moment is when I started (again I say started, not completely because as long as I stayed in my little bubble I didn't really care or notice) to realize that I was weird, awkward, and out of the loop.
At my current age, I still get moments when I feel like I'm ten-year-old Heather and everyone else is that birthday girl. I'm always afraid of wearing the wrong thing to a party or group outing (and I still do manage to mess up) and having no idea what everyone else is talking about. But I'm also still not interested in being cool. Which works out, because I'm really not.
My husband loves this story. He has been pushing me to blog about it so I finally got around to doing it. He really likes hearing about young Heather, she is so weird and funny to him. And you know what? She's weird and funny to me, too.
Any specific stories about when you figured out you weren't cool? Or are you Christine in this story, ha. In that case, tell me about the weirdo in one of your classes!!!
Here are some bonus photos of me during that time frame. I almost feel like I should do a separate post on these, breaking down my fabulous fashion. Triangle hair? Check. Multiple baggy purple tees (notice that the white one has a purple design on it)? Check. With sleeves that go down to my elbow? Check. Baggy leggings? With socks? Hells yes:
