Rant and rave. Hem and haw.
Spiced Girls
I haven't giggled in years.
Oh sure, I've laughed out loud, smirked, simpered at everyday's jokes and amusing what-have-yous, but owing to a pact I made with myself right after high school graduation ---I haven't giggled.
But first, a little explanation.
Straight out of a strict, all-girls, Catholic high school and into a premier State University, I tried to rid myself of all traces of my former giggly, bouncy high school self. Full of ideas and bursting at the seams with philosophical and political ideas I couldn't wait to try out, I resolved to take life seriously. It was, after all, the time to grow up. Time to foster the ties which would last me a lifetime, and build the roads to my successful career.
Several years later found me in a high school joint, sitting beside an old school friend. A common acquaintance paved the way for this short reunion, and what could have been idle chitchat ending in promises of keeping in touch turned into something more extraordinary for me. Oh, of course we filled each other in on what happened after our own college graduations, current jobs, love interests, failed relationships, etc. But after a while, and there seems to be no escaping this road, we talked about our former classmates We updated each other on who got pregnant and got married when, who said such and such, and which fossil-old professors still managed to live on in our old school after all these years. Then there was the trip down memory lane of who hated whom, yet eventually became friends with, who had the worst acne, and who was caught doing what with whom in the Seniors' comfort room.
And to think there are a lot of other things we could talk about. As with most schoolgirls, this kind of sentimentality could really not be avoided. While my friend was relating a particularly juicy story, she stopped and looked at my fingers, which I had been drumming against the table, impatiently waiting for the punchline. " You haven't changed a bit, you still drum your fingers like that, the way you used, too," she said.
And she was absolutely right. In fact, looking back, I began to wonder why I even needed the dramatic metamorphosis from eager schoolgirl to aspiring college student. It seemed that life was volatile and profound enough, what with all the rite of passages we go through from high school to college to employement or unemployment to job-hopping to finally finding our niche in this world, without changing ourselves all over and over again.
Suffice it to say that I giggled a lot throughout the whole conversation. Especially when we got to the part of the popular songs then, when Spice Girls was the trend. We got a hoot at how we've always dissected the lines, "Be a little bit wiser baby....put it on, put it on...." from 2 Become 1, arguing in hushed, whispered, voices if the Spice Girls had been indicating a condom as "it."
It was already quite late by the time we checked our watches and bemoaned our 9 to 5 jobs the following day. We downed the rest of our Frostys and slipped off the stools. As we walked towards the door, we talked about who else chanced upon who and if they are now meeting regularly. There were talks about a reunion, an alumni homecoming, even putting up a Web Site, or a yahoogroup. Being Ms. Bouncy and Giggly, and quite comfortable with the title again, I volunteered for the job. Then we went our separate ways.
And after coming home, kicking off my shoes, flicking on and sitting in front of my computer, and lighting a Marlboro, I went to www.yahoogroups.com, smiling in a rather silly way.
After fifteen or so minutes, I had formally created the group. With a giggle I leaned back and read the group description and heading.....
"Hi everyone! Welcome back, girls!............."
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