Factoid Numero Dos
(that’s #2 for you non-Spanish speakers)
I bet you didn’t know that May 19 is quite a day for me.
Back at Central Catholic Highschool in 1996 (oh my, that sounds really ancient), when I was a junior in highschool, my group of friends and I were a bit of hellraisers. Back in ’96, May 19th started out like any other day…
We first went to a party where we didn’t drink alcohol, but I drank 8 cans of Surge, a short-lived soda that doubled the amount of caffeine in Mountain Dew, and sent my heart pounding for days.
After the party, we head back to a friend’s house for more partying.
We get dressed up and decide to TP all of the houses of guys we had crushes on in hopes they’d ask us to the next homecoming dance (because, you know, TPing someone’s house is the way to communicate desire when you are 16)…
So, I am wearing a long dress and heels. We’re ALL ridiculously dressed up with an ungodly amount of toilet paper in the car. We squeeze seven into my friend Meg’s huge Buick and take off, laughing about how COOL and AWESOME our idea is. Then we have another brilliant idea: let’s throw rotten apples on the lawn and make signs on paper plates.
Then geeky me who is scared of breaking laws stutters, “Isn’t that vandalism?”
Of course everyone ignores and moves on with the rotten apples and paper plates plan.
While we make signs that say ASK TRICIA TO PROM. ASK JEN TO HOMECOMING. I silently hope that I would get thrown out of the car so I can run home.
We stop at the first house. I am shaking my head. It’s May 19 and only 9pm which means THERE IS STILL A LOT OF LIGHT IN THE SKY AND PEOPLE CAN SEE US.
I duck while my friends litter this poor guy’s house. And then this poor guy walks out of his house with his girlfriend and we take off down the road, speeding 90mph down a cul-de-sac. Ugh.
House number 2.
We decide to TP the house, no apples or paper plates for this guy. Relieved, I get out of the car in my heels and, this being my first TP experience throw the TP in all kinds of directions. As the TP bundle lands at my feet, I bend down to pick it up and the wind blows right up my fanny and the long skirt I had been wearing flies over the back of my head and veils me from behind.
As I am flailing my arms because I can’t see, my rear end exposed for the world to see with the TP in my hand, one of the neighbors comes out and turns on her light, “Um, girls, what are you doing?”
Blinded by a long skirt, I start running in the direction of where I think the big Buick is and finally free myself from my skirt and dive into the backseat…when we think everyone’s in the car I scream, “GO MEG!”
She slams on the accelerator and takes off… and I didn’t see that one of the doors was still open and poor Kara is hanging onto the open door for dear life screaming, “NO MEG!”
Which sounds a lot like my scream, “GO MEG!”
And Kara nearly got dragged by the car.
Fortunately, we pulled her in and we were all safe. Ridiculous, but safe.
It was only 10pm.
WHAT REBELS we were.
That night concluded with another party, probably more Surge for me, and talking about how we would always be best friends. We always said that if we could survive that night, we could survive anything.
Isn’t it funny how we measure life’s obstacles when we’re 16?
I still keep in touch with some of those friends. They are still ridiculous and hilarious, but we’ve been through more serious things as friends. Some of them have children, some have had divorce, some have had illnesses.
But, we always email each other a greeting on May 19 that we dubbed “our day,” to remember how great it was to be in high school, have your license, freedom, and especially friends.
Happy May 19 to Tricia (“Trick”), Jen (“Jenny-D”), Kara (“Deeters”), Meg (“Smeg”), Tara (“TLM”), Heather (“HK”)…from Lisa (“Slee”)