varias co

Just a quickie:
There are some cool teenagers out there. I don't remember how I ended up reading parts of a 16-year old's blog, but I followed from link to link and saw that there are some smart teens writing and making waves and influencing other young people and society. Being over a decade and a half past my own teenagerhood, I've just assumed my bright and interesting teenaged students are exceptions to the rule. But apparently there are a lot of kids out there who don't look up to Pariss Hilton (deliberately misspelled so that my post doesn't come up when people google her name).

Speaking of getting names wrong and being an adolescent, I remember I used to think that the best way to get back at a "popular" kid that said sth nasty would be to pretend you didn't know who they were. In my high school this was plausible since there were almost 4000 students in four grades. So anyway, I always thought I'd reply with, "Wait, who are you? How do you even know me?" And that would make them feel small and unimportant, the worst punishment for somebody who valued their popularity.

The weird thing is, I don't think anyone ever made fun of me. Unless I've blocked it out. So that really speaks to my old insecurities, doesn't it? I was so afraid of some confrontation that never even happened that I had my comeback ready to go. Actually in the 6th grade this dude Tom (big guy with freckles and red hair) said something obnoxious to somebody and I said "Tom, you're rude" and he said, "you're fat". Also in the second grade John "Liver Diapers" made fun of me because of my lisp (cured by Christmas thanks to the speech lady). (By the way, K and I only called the L brothers "liver diapers" between ourselves because they were mean.) Gee I'm on a roll. Maybe I'll think of lots of other examples of people making fun of me and have to come back and revise this post.

PS: A piece of me trivia: I still know that John Liver Diapers's birthday is January 26th. HOW THE HELL DO I REMEMBER THAT??? Probably because we were the only two January birthdays in Mrs Larson's 2nd grade. ALMOST 30 YEARS AGO.

Another good (private) insulting name K and I had for a nasty cow: Barfella aka Barfelle. She was older than us but skated at Centennial and was mean. She was also fat and ugly as mud, but apparently thought it was appropriate to tell other people they were.

Speaking of the speech lady, am I unkind if I say that people with speech impediments shouldn't be TV and radio presenters? Isn't the voice what it's all about? Shouldn't the network make them visit the speech lady for a few sessions? Also cops and riot police who are so out of shape they look like heart attacks waiting to happen. Isn't fitness a huge part of their job? As you know, in my current condition, I couldn't run a block without keeling over and I've heard my voice on tape and it's terrible. So I'm not making these points from a position of superiority, but I'm also not applying for either of these jobs.

Some things just puzzle me, that's all.

See how I started my post pointing out something positive and it spiraled into negativity? I think my recent depression is to blame. I like to believe I'm a nice person. Cutting out the 'roids is probably responsible. No worries, though, as the new chemo regimen calls for a full 60mg a day, so I'll soon be my old Miss Piggy-faced, good-humored self.

Random memory:
Late bus home from high school after staying late for yearbook, bus driver trying to figure out who my sister was, light dawning on his face: "Oh, I know her. She's the happy-go-lucky one."
I'm really not sure what it means to be happy go lucky, which is why I've never called anybody that, but ok, sure.