5.06.2010

Middle School: Hey, at least it wasn't when I peaked?

Uh, so the world of e-commerce is slightly more complicated than I thought. Specifically because I've decided to Jew out and order everything in bulk and set up the store and handle the inventory and shipping myself. Because let's not lie; I've got the time. That and I don't need an e-pimp taking the majority of my hard earned sorr about the bag money. I saw Hustle & Flow. I know how that shit works. Plus, if anyone's going to monetize off of the severe emotional trauma caused by "sorr about the bag," it sure as shit isn't going to be Cafe Press. I don't remember them wiping away any tears after the incident or taking the X-Acto blade out of my shaky little talons.

I think my mom is 97% sure that my little 2b1b merch store is going to be audited by the IRS within it's first two minutes of being open. And honestly, I don't blame her. I'm a wile, shifty little character, to say the least. If I'm trying to get from point A to point B, I'm pretty much willing to do whatever it takes to get there no matter what corners I have to cut or which morals I have to throw to the wind. I mean, need I remind you that I recently dreamt I exchanged unspeakable sexual favors involving my parents' shower for a role in the fictitious 2010 remake of Shag? My subconscious cooked that up, looked it over and said, "Yep. Seems about right." and threw in the towel. Some people call this characteristic "being a horrible person"; I call it dedication.

The point being, I can understand why my mom would think I'd try to dick over Uncle Sam upside down and sideways. But, surprisingly, I'm not. I'm being responsible. I spent the better part of today researching this whole LLC/Inc/sales tax/income tax/we'll put a boot in your ass, it's the American way tax, thing and I won't open the store until it's all figured out and I know that all of my ducks are in a row. Which sucks because everything's designed and looks sexy and I want to show you guys now now now! But no! Must. be. responsible. Which is why I keep sending manic emails at all hours of the night to our good friend Nate asking him 9,000 questions (accompanied by delightful Leverne & Shirley clips) about the world of e-commerce. Nate's been super helpful and nice about taking time out of his day to answer my questions, despite having just been fired himself (TWINSIES!!!!!1), so if you get a chance, you should totally head over and check out his store. Thanks Nate!

This afternoon (in between doing tax research and masturbating to the sorr about the bag design) I started feeling overwhelmed by my e-commerce confusion, so I decided to take a break and make myself a relaxing cup of chamomile tea. You know how a scent can take you back to a really specific time or moment in your life? Like, white musk reminds me of 8th grade OBGC field hockey season, "Very Sexy For Her" reminds me of Junior year of college and Dolce & Gabanna "Light Blue" reminds me of slicing wrists in New York? Well, the smell of chamomile tea instantly transported back to sitting on the couch with my parents at 8pm on a weekday night, watching TV and sipping chamomile tea while trying not to cry and/or have an anxiety attack because I had to go to school the next day. But not just any school—middle school.

To say "middle school was hard for me" is such a gross understatement that it's just laughable. My middle school experience was straight-up traumatic. I am in no way saying this just for effect, but I would rather suck Paul Simon's dick for days on end with a stadium full of anonymous blog commentors watching and emailing me their in-depth critiques of my fellatio techniques than relive even five minutes of my middle school experience. That is how much I hated it. Elementary school was elementary school, high school was awesome, college was irritating but still fun, and middle school? Middle school was the equivalent of being emotionally waterboarded for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, for 3 years in a row. Why was middle school so traumatic for? Well, truthfully, I had a few things working against me:

- For the better part of middle school I had braces, board shorts, less than mediocre hygiene skills and a perm. I mean, what part of that doesn't scream "middle school was hard for me"?

- I went to Farquhar Middle School in Olney, Maryland. (Or, Farqueer, if you will.) Farquhar is what every middle school in America must have looked like in 1972. Nothing in Farquhar has been updated since the Nixon administration and the walls are painted in neon yellow and powder blue spirals so when you walk down the ramp from the library to the cafeteria, it honestly seemed plausible that this all just might be a bad acid trip and at any point it's going to wear off and you'll wake up safe in your bed, far, far away from this pre-pubescent Hunter S. Thompsonian nightmare.

To up the creepy factor even further, Farquhar was located on a plot of land isolated in the middle of a cornfield, in the middle of a forest, in the middle of a small town in the middle of Maryland. Every morning on the ride to school, there was this disturbing moment when the bus would turn from Dr. Bird Road onto Bachelor's Forest Road and as you approached school, the only thing you could see on the horizon was a small, rundown, brick building, surrounded by nothing but ominous cornfields back-lit by the eerie red morning sky. Shit was fucked up. Like going to school wasn't hard enough, we had to do it on the set of a Tim Burton period piece.

- Children at that age, specifically girls, are down-right cruel. I could expand on this topic but it would go some place very real, very fast.

- OK, I'm going there: I had a bully. I was bullied. I'm scared to say her name because the mere thought of her puts me right back in those board shorts, but let's just say that it rhymed with Schmessica Schmith. Schmessica Schmith was total a cunt to me. I think that might have been because she was kind of a cunt in general, but she caused me a lot of anxiety in middle school. (Side note: I just found her on Facebook and she scares me just as much as she did in '96, if not more. Mostly because her Facebook photo utilizes the Photoshop charcoal filter. Snobbery. Proceed.)

The only specific example of her cuntyness that I can think of is this time in 6th grade gym class floor hockey unit, I was talking to one of my "friends" (and I put that in quotations because I clearly didn't have any) and this "friend" was complaining about how weird this kid in our class Jonathan Bligh was and desperate to join the conversation, I was like, "Ohmygawd, I know. Jonathan Bligh is such a prick."

Now, looking back, I seriously misused the term "prick" there. Jonathan Bligh was like, a painfully shy nerd with glasses who kept to himself in the corner and did puzzles. I think referring to him as a "prick" was giving him a lot of credit. The truth of the mater was that I didn't know what the word meant; I was just really eager for a chance to use it. And when I did, Schmessica Schmith just so happened to be walking by. And being kind of "schwite shrash," Schmessica Schmmith did know what a prick was and shamelessly made fun of me for misusing it and for making fun of Jonathan Bligh in the first place. Because glass houses Meg McBlogger, glass houses.

I realize that Schmessica Schmith making fun of me for misusing the term "prick" during a game of floor hockey doesn't seem that traumatic, but trust me, it was. (Side note: I just found Jonathan Bligh on Facebook and according to his picture, he just got married. Mozel tov, ya old son-of-a-prick!)

Another one of my middle school bullies was this short, stout African American girl who's name escapes me right now, but she scared the shit out of everyone, including me. Even in high school. She was always screaming at someone and being really aggressive and confrontational and just generally really unpleasant. (Jesus Chris, what the fuck was her name?? Ali and/or Eileen: I expect a text when you read this.)

Now, the halls in Farquhar are very, very narrow and one day in 8th grade, said girl was standing in front of her locker with all of her shit—her jacket, backpack, books, purse—carelessly strewn about the floor. BY COMPLETE ACCIDENT, I stepped on a tiny corner of the hoodie of her jacket, didn't notice and continued to walk on.

Suddenly the girl got all up in my face and screamed, "AWWWWWWWWWWW HAAAAAYYYYYLLL NO, BITCH! [Said girl is now AN single inch away from my face with her own.] You do NOT. Step. On a black woman's clothing."

I swear to fucking god.

I like, peed my pants. I have never been so scared in my entire life. I was like, "WHAT?!?!?! HOW DID RACE GET INVOLVED, MA'AM?!?!?!" and ran into my social studies class and hid until the bell rang. Jesus Christ. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with people?

- I stand that Farquhar had specifically evil teachers. I know everybody looks back and thinks, "Oh man, my teachers were the worst!" But seriously, Farquhar was like, oddly chock full of horrible teachers. I'm specifically thinking of my 6th grade writing teacher, Mrs. McVeigh. Jesus Christ. What a waste of a vagina. I remember one day we read this story that was from the perspective of a thorn talking about how great it is to be a thorn and how it felt bad for the rose bud, so then we had to write a story from the perspective of something typically considered ugly or undesirable and what it felt sorry for. Everyone did their stories on weeds and shit, but I wrote mine from the perspective of the wrapper of a liverwurst sandwich and how it felt sorry for the so-called "delicious" smelling popcorn bucket. (Imaginative and hungry; even back then.)

When Mrs. McVeigh asked for volunteers to share their story, my little Meglet hand shot up immediately and I was picked to share with the class first. Shortly after I started, Mrs. McVeigh stopped me and told me that there wasn't time in her class for "these funny little stories" and if I wasn't going to take the assignment seriously, I might as well not do it at all. And oh my fucking god. To this day, I am still livid that upon hearing this, my mom didn't call her up at her home, during dinner and tell her to suck a rock and die. I mean, what's the point of having hippie parents if not for calling close-minded teachers and telling them to suck rocks and die?! When my kids ask me why they have to go to a weirdo School Without Walls where they're graded on a sliding scale of Tibetan prayer beads and hugs, this is the story I will tell them. And they're welcome.

- The combination of all of the above made it impossible for me to sleep at night because I was so consumed with anxiety about school the next day. It was bad. I wouldn't sleep all night and then the next morning, the combination of anxiety and lack of sleep would make me sick to my stomach and I'd routinely vomit all over first period. (Again, I didn't have any friends for the better part of middle school?—SHOCKER!)


We tried everything to cure my insomnia naturally—aromatherapy, noise machines, classical music tape after classical music tape after classical music tape, therapy sessions for my anxiety, herbal teas (which is where the chamomile tea flashback comes in)—and the only thing that worked was getting a lava lamp. Let me repeat that for you: the only thing that cured my debilitating anxiety and insomnia was a lava lamp. I swear to god. One day my parents took me to Sharper Image in Lakeforest Mall, we picked up a snazzy silver lava lamp with neon pink lava and from that night on (for a considerable amount of time), I was lulled to sleep by the zen-like amorphous shapes of its neon pink lava and it's warm glowing-glow.

...Do you know how much I internally struggle with this? Do you know what a complete douchebag I feel like because my body's natural Ambien is a lava lamp?? I mean, was I Shaggy in my past life??

I don't even remember why I started talking about middle school in the first place now. Why did I do this to myself? I'm completely lost in a series of anxious flashbacks. What was I talking about? Merch store -> more difficult than I thought -> taxes: whaaa? -> overwhelmed -> chamomile tea -> flashback to middle school. YES! OK. Well, so, yeah, in a nutshell: middle school was hard for me and I wouldn't go back for all the tea in China. Specifically all the chamomile tea in China. ZING!

(Yes that ZING! was forced, but I have now completely lost my concentration and all I want to do is curl up in a little ball, listen to the Spice Girls' Spice World on repeat, channel my 6th grade self and forgive.)

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80 comments:

Anonymous said...

Middle school is something unheard of in my country. We go from elementary straight on to high school. Also bullying is relatively unheard of here.

-Southeast Asian Island Girl

Anonymous said...

Oh and and, are your merch/merches/merchies/ whatevs available in southeast asia? I would so love a hoodie of "walking around in Joy Behar's bra all day."

- Southeast Asian Island Girl 2

Rachel said...

lets not forget to mention that Farquhar had THE BEST mascot....THE ROADRUNNER!!!

Liz said...

I really thought this was going to be an "I'm sorry I snapped at you anonymous asshat yesterday, I still harbor enormous insecurities from middle school" post.

And I was going to be pissed if you took back what you said to those smug pug(s). Glad to see you kept calm and carried on.

Sarah P said...

I would like this post so much more if it didn't just cause an anxiety attack about my own middle school experience. My own personal version of Schmessica Schmith put a bug in my hair - a cicada, I think.

My awesome parents fulfilled my two-year dream of moving to another school district. You've never seen a kid so psyched to change schools. It was awesome.

Anonymous said...

Middle school is an awkward, terrible time for most people and I feel your MoCo middle school pain! (I went to White Oak, shudder) Don't you feel sorry for those people who DID peak in middle school? Best wishes on executing the merch line!

Courtney Alexis said...

Middle School should just be eliminated, period. After elementary school everyone should get to be homeschooled for the next two years and be greasy and zitty in the privacy of their own home. Oh my lord, I was SO AWKWARD in 7th and 8th grade. This is shameful to admit, but it's the intranets and no one knows me anyway, so, I feel comfortable sharing that when I was in middle school I ...


Shaved my eyebrows.


I didn't pluck them. Oh no! 13 year olds don't have that kind of time. I drug a RAZOR BLADE down the space between my eyes to prevent my unibrow from growing back because everyone knows RAZOR BURN on the face of a PUBERTY-STRICKEN GIRL is far cuter than a few stray hairs.


I blame my mom. Why didn't she ever say, "Honey, put the Schick down and let's have a talk."


UGH.
And there are pictures. That time in my life is immortalized FOREVER.

Courtney Alexis said...

sorr about the extra line breaks in my previous comment.

Stephanie G said...

Mrs. McVeigh sounds like the anti christ and is probably somehow related to Timothy McVeigh. Just saying.

The Realist said...

Oh jesus. Middle school. I went to a super christian school in northeast texas and I literally still fear one of my "friends" slithering up when I say "oh my god" to give me a lecture on how using the lord's name in vain is going to send me to hell, not that it mattered, I was presbyterian and every knew you had to be church of christ to get through the pearly gates. mean girls: the holier than thou art version.

Talia said...

GAAAAGY!!!, don't call me GAAGY here, people thinks it sounds like GAY!

I hate this school :(

farquhar sucked!, unless you are a cool hawaiian girl named gabby

Anonymous said...

Middle school was very traumatic for all of us, though this is more a comment on Courtney Alexis's post: Some of us still do that. Yes, that's right. I am a 24-year-old, socially capable and acceptable woman with great eyebrows and I shave my unibrow and tell everyone I know about it. (Though I am commenting anonymously, fail). It takes me 3.8 seconds, is completely painless, and as a redhead, my stray eyebrows barely show bc they're pretty much translucent.

But the point of this is that some of the awkward things you do in middle school turn out to be AWESOME, even if you're the only one who thinks so. I may or may not be going to see the Backstreet Boys at Wolf Trap on June 9. You are all welcome to join me.

Jules said...

WAIT. Back up.

I'm a fellow MoCo-an.

Do you pronounce Farquhar "Faw-key-er"? Because if you do, I have never seen "Faw-key-er" spelled before, and the crazy spelling is blowing my mind.

I've only previously heard it mentioned on the radio, like the mythical cities of Upper Marlboro and Landover and other traffic-ridden areas the announcer wants you to avoid on your morning commute.

Lexi said...

That story about the teacher makes me SO SAD!!! Seriously, to crush creativity like that! Ugh, I don't know why that gets my panties in such a bunch since it happens years ago and you obviously didn't have your creative spirit crushed forever, but how many other kids had her for writing and had their dreams crushed!

Patrick said...

I was a chubby kid who wore sweat pants or track (wind breaker style) pants almost everyday for 3 years in middle school. A tucked in t-shirt with jean shorts was also acceptable attire to me then.

+2 points to me for being the least fashionable person at my school.

Wiggs (The Beholder) said...

Oh, girl. I hear you. I used to freak out about having to go to middle school too, because I got bad acne when I was 10 (10! What sort of cruel joke is that?) and that made me an easy target for all of the porcelain-skinned children of the corn who were my classmates. Their evil peaked in seventh grade, when Pat Crowthers threw a corn-dog at the back of my head, Kevin White poured a cup of scalding water on my lap, and a crowd of their cronies followed me into the locker room when I went to clean myself up and tied my ankles together with my shoelaces. I friggin hate those guys STILL (even though I'm pretty sure they didn't graduate high school) and if/when I'm ever in a position to help them out by, say, offering them a job as my personal assistant, I will exact 14 years' worth of revenge on them.

Anyway, I feel your pain.

Also, I'm sure you already did this, but have you looked into Etsy? They only take 3.5% off the top. http://www.etsy.com/fees.php

Britty said...

Ugh - just looking at that picture of Farquhar gives me anxiety. I'm pretty sure that same "stout" girl told me that my shoes were ugly and I still haven't gotten over it.

Kelly said...

"When my kids ask me why they have to go to a weirdo School Without Walls where they're graded on a sliding scale of Tibetan prayer beads and hugs, this is the story I will tell them. And they're welcome."

Best.

jen said...

jules: farquar middle school and fauquier county in va. two very different places. i remember when school was cancelled back in the day due to snow, that stupid ass fauquier county ALWAYS was cancelled, when montgomery county rarely was. (basically, i heard it mentioned on the news all the time). the middle school is pronounced more like "far kwar", while the county is pronounced like you said.

and meg: why don't you set up the merch store and instead of allowing people to buy anything yet, allow people to "pre-purchase" or whatever it is they do on itunes before a cd is released. people can pay a little to reserve a sorr about the bag bag, then when its up and running they pay the rest (aka tax and shipping) and you mail it. OR put up the merch store and allow people to click something that shows their interest in the bag, so you can start getting them made while waiting for the tax shit to come through. that way, when its up and running we'll have less time to wait for the bags to be delivered.

DO IT.

oh and i don't know the name of the girl your talking about from middle school, but is she the same scary girl who would run anyone over in the hallway that was in her way? slash walk reaaallly slow in the middle of the hallway when she wasn't in a hurry so no one could get by? then yell at people when they tried to pass her?

why is this comment so long? i've had too much coffee.

Lia said...

In DC we have Middle Schools AND junior highs. It depends where you go. Junior high was possibly the worst thing I have ever experienced, more because of the administration. It is actually the reason I didn't go to my local high school. I actually went to the School Without Walls. We were not graded in Tibetan prayer beads...instead on a 94-100-is-an-A, so too bad if you got a 93.

Pop-Punk Junkie said...

Meg, I had a lava lamp too. All through middle school and into part of high school. I never had insomnia but it defs had some crazy hippie calming effect!

Can't wait for you to launch the merch store so I can get a Sorr About The Bag bag!

Anonymous said...

Your middle school trauma sounds like my 6th grade nightmare in elementary school. I was never so happy to move on to Jr. High in my life. I had gone through puberty much earlier than other kids and one day when it was hot outside I had worn a tank top and had forgotten to shave my underarms. It wasn't completely gross, just like a little shadow of stubble, and this one bitch had the whole entire grade make fun of me for the rest of the year for having underarm hair. I was traumatized. Luckily, that girl is not a legitimate crack addict, so I guess I win.

Hails said...

oh dear god don't get me started thinking about middle school. it was only 2 years long for me but THE HORROR, I TELL YOU, THE HORROR!

we didn't have air conditioning in our school, the lunch room was in the BASEMENT, and the ceiling tiles in the gym would randomly fall, almost killing you.
and that's just the building.
My dad even accused the vice principal of extortion.
I just can't even get into it.
I refuse to go back there even mentally.

Anonymous said...

*now

Meagan said...

AMANDA. That is her name. Amanda. She was horrible. She harassed me too- I dated one of her friends (AT AGE 12) and she seriously cornered me to tell me that I wasn't allowed to date a black man because I was white. WE WERE 12!

Also, McVeigh had a nervous breakdown when we were in 8th grade. Which was precipitated by that kid Fred (the one who got kicked by a horse? do you remember him?) who just snapped and started screaming at her one class (rightfully) and she started to cry about her abusive mother. It was a lot.

*Shudder* Farquhar...

True story- I don't remember where it is. I couldn't drive you there if I wanted to. I've literally blocked it out.

Kate said...

Is it sad that, upon noticing an UNATTENDED MACBOOK PRO at starbucks this morning, I almost swiped it for you? The owner was a cute, petite asian girl who I totally could have taken out.

Also, Middle School could possibly be the most miserable years of my life. Reached my full height in 7th grade (6'-0") and had the figure of a No.2 pencil. Awkward doesn't even begin to describe it.

Beatrice said...

Gaithersburg Middle has PINK STRIPES on the walls.

I vaguely remember having to read the same poem/short story about a thorn and a rosebud. Good to know MCPS uses the same exact lesson plan across the board.

RIP Lakeforest Sharper Image.

Jessica said...

God I loved my lava lamps in middle school.

Is it bad that I just had an internal debate with myself on whether or not it would be justified for a 24 year old single female to have a lava lamp in her apartment?

Damn. It.

I guess MY misty water-colored memories of warm fuzzies staring at my lava lamp will have to do...fml.

<3

RC said...

So, I referenced you on my blog today because you add so much to my work day. I also had to do it because of our shared affinity for em dashes. Also? Can't wait to own a "sorr about the bag" bag. You're welcome.

Jessica Ellis said...

Where is this "weirdo School Without Walls where they're graded on a sliding scale of Tibetan prayer beads and hugs"? Cause that is where I want my kids to go.

Shelagh said...

I totally went to one of those beads-for-grades schools in 6th grade... they taught us Eurythmics instead of P.E., and math class often consisted of making geometric shapes out of yarn on slabs of wood. And yet somehow I still managed to be a dorky little outcast... that's quite a feat in a school full of crazy hippies.

Mikey said...

I used to get really bad stomach aches from anxiety during middle/high school too. The only thing that helped was curling up into a ball on my bed and pretending to be interviewed by Rosie O'Donnell on her talk show lol.

Kelly said...

farquhar reminds me of Lord Farqwad and makes me think of schmessica schmith as an ogre. Good day! :)

Kelly said...

farquhar reminds me of Lord Farqwad and makes me think of schmessica schmith as an ogre. Good day! :)

Susan said...

tween bullies are the scariest fucking people you'll ever meet. mine was named amber. she threatened to break my arm!

Maria said...

So while this has nothing to do with today's post, I felt obligated to tell you that I saw Anna, from More to Love fame, in a Ross discount clothing store commerical this morning.
And to think I ever doubted that she was actually a model.

Andrea said...

When I was in middle school a boy told me I had Alligator Toes.

Do I know what that even means? No.

Do I still look at my feet every time I try on open toed shoes and wonder if they look Alligatorish? Yes.

Ugh, trauma.

Andrea said...

& Kelly - I had the same Shrek mental image too!

Anonymous said...

My middle school was orange. The trim outside, the lockers, key walls indoors, all the orange of a grubby tangerine. We were the only middle school to suffer a school shooting with a paintball gun.

-Tulane Chris

Courtney Alexis said...

To Anonymous who also partakes in the shaving of the brow:

I don't fault anyone for having to shave their unibrow if they can pull if off properly, as you seem to do. I was referring to the fact that I would shave a space equal to the length of the razor blade. My eyerbrows ended right above the middle of my eyeball.

Personal grooming FAIL.

Meghan said...

I'm sorry, has anyone mentioned that your middle school is eerily close if not the same to the little Lord so and so character from Shrek? and I have to say...he freaks me out, so your middle school sure as hell doesn't sound like a carnival. oh and if it helps Meg, I had a silver lava lamp with light blue lava that had to be on for a solid 2 1/2 years of my life. didn't help me sleep necessarily, but damned if I would let my parents house burn down before I would have that thing turned off.

Andrew said...

Middle school must just breed stupidity. We had this big fad in the 7th grade where everyone wore those breakaway track pants. Well what happens when you put together 100 idiots wearing breakaway pants. Rampant pantsing, hilariously traumatizing.

josh said...

Try transferring from a strict catholic middle school to a rowdy public school 8th grade year. I still shutter thinking about 8th grade year. I was so naive, I was still playing pogs and kids were getting bj's during lunch period. I feel ya Meg.

ME said...

My middle school bully/frenemy put a dead spider in my hair during "group-work time" in English(a figgin BIG black one!! i still shudder to think if it was a black widow to this day...probably wasn't. but it COULD have been. b*tch ) and when i screamed, I got in trouble and sent to the principal. ME. not her. ME!!! how stupid is that?? Im pretty sure the Principal was on my side...or at least that is the reality i have created for myself.

ugh.

Anonymous said...

In middle school, I started an AIM relationship with a boy I loved and he was dating someone else. She found out and brought me a black rose to school on Valentine's day and called me Monica Lewinsky. I lost all of my friends. I was so depressed that I would come home and eat a steak and cheese sandwich every day after school and go to sleep at 4pm. My already awkward body got fat and then I had to put in a transfer to go to a different high school than the rest of the fucks.

Meg said...

Oh, middle school. Just reading this post made my stomach do anxious flip-flops as I remembered my too-long cordoroy pants (GREEN!), ill-fitting little T-shirts and braces with blue rubberbands that stretched across my entire mouth.

And the fake Airwalks I wore and was subsequently teased about -- because I didn't have the heart to ask my parents to buy me real Airwalks. GAH THE PAIN.

(And now you can buy them at Payless. That would have saved me YEARS of TRAUMA.)

Linda said...

I came home crying every day in middle school. My mom said it was the worst girl-cruelty she's ever seen. 7th grade girls are awful.

2 Birds, 1 Blog: The sardonic voice of 20-somethings everywhere, Monday through Friday. said...

oh and i don't know the name of the girl your talking about from middle school, but is she the same scary girl who would run anyone over in the hallway that was in her way? slash walk reaaallly slow in the middle of the hallway when she wasn't in a hurry so no one could get by? then yell at people when they tried to pass her?

YES!!!! So frightening...And Nate just emailed me back about tax stuff and it only confused me more. Meh...I'll be napping if you need me.

Also, McVeigh had a nervous breakdown when we were in 8th grade. Which was precipitated by that kid Fred (the one who got kicked by a horse? do you remember him?) who just snapped and started screaming at her one class (rightfully) and she started to cry about her abusive mother. It was a lot.
A.) AMANDA! YES!
B.) Wow, really? Abusive mom? That's intense...she was still an asshat though.

I used to get really bad stomach aches from anxiety during middle/high school too. The only thing that helped was curling up into a ball on my bed and pretending to be interviewed by Rosie O'Donnell on her talk show
That's the funniest thing I've ever read in my entire life. SLASH, sorr about your pain.

I saw Anna, from More to Love fame, in a Ross discount clothing store commerical this morning.
And to think, Luke coulda had all of that.

Anonymous said...

Middle school was the worst! Whoever decided it would be a good idea to take a bunch of kids and trap them together during the 3 most hormonally unbalanced years of their adolescent lives?? I shudder every time I think of middle school.
And about the bullying, I hear you. When I was 13 my ex-boyfriend started rumors that I loved phone sex and gave my teacher sexual favors in exchange for A's, and started a hate website about me. Complete with pictures of me with devil horns drawn on. Understandable retaliation for me ending a 2 month relationship during which we did nothing more than hold hands? I think not. Stupid middle school.

Anonymous said...

that alligator toe comment makes me feel so awful, because i was in love with this boy all throughout middle school and high school, and he was really tall so also had enormous feet. as love-struck girls are wont to do, i made fun of him (ie, the feet), and i actually think in retrospect that was a really low blow because christ, the kid was like, 6'4'' and built like a celery stalk. he had enough shit to deal with.

Anonymous said...

Meg, you are really on a roll this week! Love it!

Anonymous said...

My god. I must be the only person who didn't have a horribly traumatic experience happen to me in middle school. And I didn't even have middle school; I went to a grades 7-12 school. So during those formative years I was with high-schoolers, too. I must have been the bully. I mean, I know I was an asshole, but, well, hell! We were twelve! Regardless, to anyone I picked on, sorr about the wedgie.

Laura said...

Don't worry Meggles, your "funny little stories" made you DC's best local blogger so clearly Mrs. McVeigh had no eye for talent...

Kristen said...

Ohh muh GAWD. Junior high was my nightmarish hell. I was tormented by my former best friend and her stupid giggly friends. I missed a huge chunk of 7th grade because I preferred to fake recurrent bouts of influenza and pneumonia. (The worse the disease, the longer I can be out!) Thank goodness I was such a good student and was able to keep up in my classes, so the school never complained. I distinctly remember accidentally closing my locker door on the finger of one of the popular guys. He proceeded to rip my locker door open and throw all of my belongings all over the hall. Then he ripped all my folders in half. I still have nightmares about it. It probably didn't help that I had huge glasses, a frizzed out former perm, and could not for the life of me dress myself appropriately. Might as well have tattooed "Bully me now!" on my forehead.

Anonymous said...

Wow, this post and its comments were like a therapy session for recovering repressed traumatic memories. I was all, 'ho hum, haha middle school stories', until some pretty terrible memories came flooding back:

1) In fifth grade, I became really close friends with a girl who I thought was super cool, because she had kissed a boy and already shaved her legs and gotten her period. Soooo much more advanced than me. We would write notes all day and write our names + BFFs 4EVER all over our notebooks, have sleepovers every weekend, and she'd mentor me in the ways of being cool and mature. Then, one day, she decided that because she lived in a trailer and I lived in a house, I was a stuck up snob who deserved no friends. She turned all the girls in the grade against me and suddenly I had lost my best friend AND any other potential girl friends in one fell swoop.

2) The next year, in grade 6, I was head over heels in unrequited love wiht one of the cool boys in my grade, who actually happened to be the only cool boy who was nice to me, which is why I thought I had a shot in hell. We were assigned to sit together at a table in science class with another girl and the Top Dog cool boy of the grade, who also happened to be a huge asshole to anyone less cool than him. One day while we were in class doing work, Top Dog leaned over to my crush, gestured to me, and said, loud enough for everyone at hte table to hear, including me, "She's an ugly bitch, ain't she?". I died. Right there. And fell even more in love with my crush because he refused to react to Top Dog, a mighty feat in middle school when fitting in is basically equivalent to survival.

Yeeeeeah.

KES said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

Not to encourage slacking off, but .... http://www.hulu.com/watch/142700/spice-world

Yes. I watched that today.

-B- said...

I can definitely relate to your trauma about middle school - though I fully acknowledge that you seem to have gotten an even shorter end of the stick than me. And that's despite the fact that I am tortured daily by the realization that the name of the girl who bullied me most rhymes with "vaginas" and I didn't even notice.

However, I was even more peeved by your writing teacher story. I'm living in the kind of genteel poverty you read about in 19th century novels in order to earn the right to study how people learn to write as my job, and fuck - teachers like that should be shot. Or at least have former students like you who've achieved success through writing paraded in front of them constantly during the most painfully static years of their careers.

Also, as a fellow AU alum, I'd love to see more reflection on your college past. I enjoy the reflection of those years through your lens. And I'm hoping to make the mystery of what year you graduated in into my Lost substitute once it ends.

Helena said...

Question: Did we or did we not trek out and pee on your middle school freshman year of college after a pretty classy dinner at PF Chang's?

Ali said...

Most of middle school is a blur to me (and not because it was "so long ago", but rather because I repressed so much of it haha).

Though I do have one traumatizing middle school story/event that sticks out to me: My 7th grade yearbook photo. I looked like a boy with a bowl cut in it (when in reality I was a socially awkward girl with obnoxious bangs and a not so obvious ponytail, who liked to dress like a slob). I was made fun of for weeks because of it, and still lament that humilation eight years later. Ever since then, I've been extremely self-concious about how I look not only in pictures, but in general.

Fuck you, middle school.

Miglet said...

There's no middle school in Oz, but kids will be cruel no matter what age. I remember an incident on the bus where a poor, little red-headed Year 7 boy was humiliated by a Year 12 boy for not cleaning his ears properly. I have cleaned my ears every morning (and evening) since!

I've pretty much blocked out most of the humiliating things that happened to me, but I did get "dacked" a lot in Year 7 and sexually harassed by my male classmates because I was the only girl in my class with boobs.

Oh, and I once wrote a story about a blind canary called Thor who was a superhero for my Year 9 English class. It was supremely silly, and I received an A. My English teacher (whose name was Mr English, by the way) was the best! I feel bad for you and that McVeigh woman. Nasty.

Hope said...

I transferred from a private, southern Baptist school to a lawless public middle school in 7th grade. I didn't even own a pair of blue jeans. Hello, culture shock. Take the "p" out of my name, and you'll figure out my nickname compliments of my new friends! I had no idea what it meant. OK, off to therapy.

Blondie said...

Imagine having your MOM as your middle school 7th grade math AND home room teacher! And on top of that, she was the single-most hated teacher in the building. Gave kids detention like it was going out of style!

p.s. I was bullied in 5th grade...bad...every day. The kid and his crazy-ass, white trash mom threatened my Mom and me at one point and the cops were called. It was horribly traumatic. Then the kid's mom was killed by his step-dad. Shot in the face. No joke. The poor kid never had a chance.

Brittan said...

whoa there, meg. i am surrrusly freaking out right now. it's like you just wrote the story of my life. i too had chronic, debilitating insomnia from middle school trauma. for me it was lacy reed telling the whole school that her mom wouldn't let her hang out with me because i was a lesbian and tried to watch her get undressed. no joke. to this day i can not watch mean girls because it is so upsetting going back to this place. then it was iesha (eye-ee-sha... yeah.) who cornered me in the girls bathroom when i made the basketball team and told me if i didn't quit she would kick my scrawny white ass. omg. i can't... i can't. ahhhhhhh why did we go back to that place meg, it's not healthy for anyone!

i can't effing believe i never tried a lava lamp. i had the opposite of your parents so it was pretty much "get over it and go to bed or watch tv all night, i don't care, just leave me alone." i am very familiar with every episode of i love lucy, frasier, the simpsons, friends, seinfeld, etc.

let's just take comfort in the fact that we're way hotter and more clever than our middle school bullies who probably actually DID peak in 8th grade.

oh also mrs. puryear. *shudder*

Jamie said...

I also went to Farquhar... 6th and 7th grades were like the worst of my life.

Was Mr. Eisenacher (however you spell it) or Mr. "Eyes" as he liked to be called (yes, creepy) there when you were there?

I never had him for gym but he honestly scared the SHIT out of me.

Also, Mrs. Deberry literally made me cry one day in math.

Ohhh, Farqueer

Katie said...

I remember unwrapping the lava lamp I asked for at Christmas and my cousin said it was "phat with a PH" and then asked me if I knew what he meant.

Anonymous said...

Reagan sent me my own "sorr about the bag" tank... i am sure its not as sexy as what is up and coming. But it will do in a pinch- Group photo needed....

Ginny E said...

And we need dog fashions- sorr about the bag on a wiener dog is just friggin hilarious-

pook555 said...

I think I'm getting anxiety issues just thinking back to Jr. High, Meg. I went to a lovely (sarcasm here) very dangerous public school. Being a very short, naieve white girl went over Rull well there. The thing was that the kids in the regular classes would threaten to like, shank you after school (psh, or during school). The kids in the honors classes were total snotty biatches who would rag on your clothing and shoes for not being expensive enough. Thankfully in 9th grade I grew like 5 inches and had mostly honors classes (since at least the snotty biatches didn't try to shank you, just insult you which was much safer).

Oh, and I had an honors english teacher who scared me (and everyone) to death for 7th and 8th grade (think Cruella de Ville - seriously, she even LOOKED like her in the cartoon).

And then there was my 9th grade choral-banquet-from-hell...shudder shudder...too many horrible memories, must go back to blocking them out now...

The Disillusionists said...

Meg- longtime reader, first time commenter- everytime I see a report about a kid going postal and shooting up a school I think, "Yeah, I get it kid" BECAUSE of the intentional hell people put me through in middle school.

I was 30lbs overweight, rocked a puffed headband AVEC a scrunchie and glasses. There were only one of two roads to choose- psycho killer or comedian...I went with the latter.

I tell myself I'm a better person for it but God as my witness, my future children will be black belts and will not hesitate to drop a bitch! Stage mom? Never. Fight mom? Hells yes!!

Much love, Sarah
PS: Serious respect point for the "Shag" reference. I can't hear "Stagger Lee" without breaking into a solo shag!

Anna said...

i keep reading this post over and over throughout my dull day bc its one of my num one stun(nas).

emily said...

BAH! I thought I was the only one with crazy scent recall! One day I was getting coffee at work when a brand new coworker walked into the breakroom and I made the following comment, rather dreamily and definitely creepily: "Mmmmmm. You smell like high school boyfriend," without even making eye contact. And then fumbled to explain that I wasn't sexually harassing him. Which was even more awkward... because he couldn't be any gayer, as it turns out. Liiiiiiiiiiife!

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