Rebel Without A Clue (Or Stupid Things I've Done Over The Years)

I'm in a funny, light-hearted kind of mood right now.  Motivational, self-help Mandy has the day off today.  Jillian Michaels has her in a headlock for slacking off this week.  So it's just goofy Mandy here now.  :-)

And why am I talking and typing about myself in the third person?  Don't you hate it when people do that?  Anyway....

A day ago, I was speaking to a friend I've known my entire life.  I'm talking since we were in diapers together.  JP and I were babysat by the same lady while our mothers taught at the same school.  That's how way back she and I go.

This friend, JP,  has all the good dirt on me.  Every time we talk, she reminds me of something silly or outrageous I have done in the past. 

Well today I thought.... Why not share some of those things?  They are the kind of stories I'll reveal to Vivian someday anyway.

So here goes....  The rebellious things I've done in my younger days..... a time where I didn't use my head and usually got caught red-handed by my shenanigans:

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  In second grade, I remember mocking the teacher behind her back.  Except I was way over-doing it.  While Mrs. Arceneaux was writing simple math equations on the chalk board, I decided to show off to my classmate by flinging my arms wilding and uncontrollably.  I also made lots of "nanny-nanny-boo-boo" facial expressions.  Well, wouldn't you know it?  The teacher turns around and catches me in the act.  I spent the next half hour in the hallway on my knees while all the other classes went by on recess and laughed at me.  I cried and hung my head in shame.

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  Also, while I was in elementary school, probably around third or fourth grade, I had my hand slapped by the lunch lady in the cafeteria.  That's what I got for trying to take two extra chicken nuggets from the hot plate.  Oh yes!  I'm serious.  The three or four strips weren't good enough for me.  I wanted more and took matters into my own hands, only to have those hands slapped by a woman with a hairnet.  My firend JP says I later became sick and threw up over the whole ordeal.  I don't remember that part but I won't deny it either. 

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  Sometime around age 11, when New Kids On The Block was all the musical rage, I attempted my first crime -- theft.  I had posters of Joey and Jordan all over my walls but I wanted more.  So while in the local K&B pharmacy/drug store, I gathered up my Bop magazine where I had inserted torn out poster pages from the Seventeen magazine that I wasn't purchasing of my favorite five guys.  I must've looked awkward or guilty because the checkout clerk decided to flip through the magazine I was purchasing only to discover the extra pages in there.  "How did that get in there?" I tried to play off and said I'd return it to the shelf for another copy.  Then I sprinted down the aisle and slipped out the back entrace with a red face and a sad heart.  I haven't tried to steal anything since then.

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  In high school, (don't remember which grade), three of us girls planned to have a sleepover at another girl friend's house.  As it turned out, that friend didn't get permission from her mother and we had already arrived at her doorstep with bags in hand.  Since none of us wanted to go home and were too lazy to call our parents, we found an alternative just a few blocks away - at a BOY's house that we knew.  This boy was one of our classmates who was dating our other friend.  His parents weren't home so he and his older brother didn't mind.  Before you go thinking the worst, NOTHING happened.  I swear.  All three of us girls slept on the floor in a guest room.  It was not comfortable and it was not fun.  But somehow, my parents did find out a few days later.  And let's just say I was grounded for a month.  Maybe even longer.  My mom even drove me to that boy's house to confront him and his parents about the incident.  Also NOT fun.   To this day, I still do NOT know how my folks found out what we did.  (Mom and Dad, if you're reading this blog entry.... I'm over 30 years old now... how did you know?  Who told you? )

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  My senior year of high school proved to be my most rebellious year (without a clue) to date.  I kicked things off by going to a classmate's house without my parent's permission -- one of those girls who had a party where lots of alcohol was involved, and on a school night too.  Well, I was trying to be a big shot.  I started off with a few beers, moved onto a few shots of various hard liquors, threw in a few daquiris, and then gawd only knows what else after that.  I never went to sleep that night and I wasn't completely sober the next morning when I drove to school.  I ended the drinking fest with some greasy breakfast from McDonald's.  Yes, you heard me correctly.  Nothing like hash browns, fake eggs and bacon to wash down that peppermint schnapps.  So by the time my second class in school had come along, my stomach had more than it could take!  I threw up.  But get this!?  I threw up sitting at my own desk and in my own shirt.  Ya know, so I wouldn't disturb anyone (except my own sick mind, I suppose??)  I don't know what the hell I was thinking???  That hiding it at my desk trick didn't last long though, as the day went on.  During each additional class, I felt worse and worse.  And I really shouldn't have forced myself to do the dance team performance during lunchtime pep rally either.  Because that probably led to me spewing in classes 4 and 5 by the afternoon.  In fact, it was TWO days later before I finally felt like me again.  I missed the football game on Friday night and had to surrender my duties as dance team captain.  I was too hungover.  But hey, at least I proved a point..... the point that alcohol and Mandy on a school night combined with greasy breakfast foods do NOT mix!  

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  A few months after the school hangover incident, I became cocky once again.  Not over alcohol this time.  I didn't touch that stuff for awhile after that.  But I thought I was untouchable and that I could leave school early if I wanted to, without anyone finding out.  My boyfriend at the time was on his spring break from college.  What's the harm in missing the last two school periods of the day? Especially since one of them was my "free" period of the time where I volunteered in the guidance office.  Well the problem with that is.... that if the guidance counselor (you gotta love Mrs. G) expects you to be there and you're not, she becomes worried.  And then she checks in with your last class of the day to discover that you're not there either BUT you were in classes 1 through 4.  So she becomes more worried.  You're a good kid, after all.  You don't get into trouble.  She calls your parents at work.  They become worried too.  Worried enough to start making calls looking for you. Until they catch you.... at your boyfriend's house......not at school.  They are no longer worried.  They are very angry now.  I'm grounded.  Again.  Insert lots of yelling.  All because I was a rebel without a clue.
  
  

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  I had one more incident of stupidity during my first semester of college that I haven't told many people to this day.   I was still paired with the goofy high school boyfriend.  He was going to a college about four hours away from mine, in a small hick Mississippi town.   I drove by myself to see him.  After getting lost, being scared and thinking I'd never find him, I arrive at his doorstep only for him to tell me me to go back home.  No girls were allowed on his campus.  But he did manage to sneak away with me for a half-hour, to a disgusting diner about fifteen minutes away.  This was the ONLY place to eat food within an hour's radius.  That is how small and hick this place was where he stayed.  Stupid, stupid me orders a three course meal at this diner before I kiss my boyfriend good bye.   Our relationship went downhill shortly after that evening (thank gawd).  But oh the memories of that visit and that diner stayed with me for the entire four hour drive back to my Louisiana college dorm room.   At one point, I had to pull over on the side of the road to relieve my bubbling stomach pains.  Yep, you guessed it.  I did number two on the side of the road.  In the middle of nowhere, Mississippi.  Pitch black.   Cue music from "Deliverance" and someone jumping out to make me squeal like a pig.  Thankfully though, it was just me in my humiliating moment.  And after I wiped my butt with my socks, since I had no tissue or toilet paper handy, I vowed not to do anything like that again. THIS IS IT I said to myself.   I'M DONE with this side of me.

Shortly, after my road adventures, I came to my senses.   That boyfriend quickly became history and I ditched my rebellious ways. 

After all, it just wasn't me.  I felt bad.  I'd either get caught Or Karma would hand me a silver platter filled with truth and consequences that I didn't need.  

Since those crazy days, I've been a mostly good girl.  Yes, I can honestly say that. 

But oh, what fun it is to look back at how incredibly stupid I was!  

I hope you enjoyed my stories.  I hope I made you laugh.  I hope I even shocked you! 

We all do dumb things from time to time.  I'm no exception. 

At least I've lived to tell about my tales and I'm not afraid to reveal my goofy antics.  They are a part of who I am today, poop-filled sock and all.  (Just kidding!  I left that sock on the roadside, of course!  A family of flies had a great meal that night!)

I look forward to laughing and sharing these stories over drinks with my daughter someday......