BULL CRAP.
This was all about those most desirable chicks being able to act surprised and sweetly embarrassed when a bucketful of flowers were dumped on their desks in homeroom. They complained about having to carry them around all day from class to class, how INCONVENIENT it all was, how they couldn't understand how it was possible that Tom, Joe, Tim, Patrick AND Tony all bought them flowers the same day...I mean didn't those guys know she was already dating Peter? It was almost as bad as when they complained about having to wear their boyfriend's football jersey to school on game day. "Oh, it's so big, I look like a whale." "Oh I hate our school colors...if my boyfriend didn't MAKE me wear it I'd never wear this color."
GAG.
In my senior year of high school, I sat duty at the flower sale table rolling my eyes as the same names were written on the delivery cards over and over again. Nothing had changed for FOUR LONG YEARS. It was almost always the RASCK (a clique that was created using the first letters of each of the girls' first names). Renata, Amy, Stacy, Cindi, Karen....(notice there is NO W in RASCK).
At one point I actually asked a guy I was friends with to just BUY ME A DAMN FLOWER ALREADY. I told him he could send it to me ANONYMOUSLY. I told him I would GIVE him the dollar.
He politely declined.
Color me embarrassed.
Now, I've always had friends. And lots of them. Even in high school and across all cliques. My friends are top quality folks and I love them. Even though most of them continue to abandon me and scatter to the four corners of the earth these days. But I guess I still suffer from that sense of non-popular (a.k.a. inferiority) complex that was represented by my flowerless days in high school.
Time for redemption.
Last week I was recommended for an on-line interview on the internet. And, well, they have a voting process for the most popular blogs. I don't pretend to play in the big leagues here - no penetrating discussions here of hot news topics, no in-depth soul searching, not even superior writing or even good grammar.
But, I sure would like to get a couple of votes.
Click here, read my boring interview, and give me your vote.
(You can vote once every 24 hours...you know American Idol style)
And while you're at it, why not visit the upper right corner of my blog and "Follow me" so I can believe in the hordes of you out there hanging on my every word.
Won't you make me just a little popular??
3 comments:
We had carnation sales in junior high. I bought four of them for myself and ate them in 30 seconds.
Ok I'll admit it I got a few flowers that I didn't want to receive and hid them in my locker --don't hate me!
You capture the flower/candygram thing perfectly. It was always the girls who could put their hair into a bun with a pencil--so I was already predisposed to dislike them.
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