Just kidding. I think.
Anyway. Happy hump day, people! Fun fact, it wasn't until my senior year of high school that I first understood the non-sexual meaning of "hump day". I genuinely thought that Wednesday was just sex day for all.
In honor of my high school naiveté, PLL's epic high school drama, my recent reconnection with a high school friend, and the fact that my high school reunion is rapidly approaching, I want to back track to the days when sneaking out at night and sneaking in after curfew was a right of passage and sign of bad-assiness. Back to the time when wearing the most expensive clothing was more important than being comfortable. Back to the time when lying to yourself about who you were seemed like a better decision than being yourself. Simply put, back to the time you thought was the greatest life could ever get, clouded with tons of shitiness you just assumed was a staple of life.
What were you like in high school? It doesn't matter. I am a firm believer that people can change and what we were in high school probably isn't what or who we are now.
It's great you changed. Really, it is. You know who doesn't care? The people you screwed over back then. Yes, there is such a thing as 'forgive and forget' but let's throw that out the window for now. Let it fall til it whacks the ground and shatters to teeny tiny unidentifiable remnants of the past. Just like the egg assignment from elementary school that I still don't think I'd be successful with today.
Anyway, we've all talked smack about someone behind their back and it's gotten back to them. We learn from it. The person you talked about may never forgive you, and that's fine. You may never forgive the girl that made up bizarre rumors about you. That's fine too. But we learn how to move on and we're better people because of it. We're better without those people.
One day one of my supposed BFFs, Ingrid, was talking about me behind my back. In front of my face. I was like "BITCH PLEASE" and then I cried. She told me I'd changed so much because I started wearing eyeliner. Yes, seriously, that is what made me cry. I think I just hated her so much that I cried over whatever she said even if it was funny. And Ingrid was one to talk! Girl caked makeup on, including eyeliner, like a transvestite show girl in Vegas. Not really, I'm just still bitter about this apparently. I forgive her, but I will never be her friend.
Then I transferred schools, but not because of Ingrid. Because of my love of eyeliner and my want to wear it openly without judgement. Just kidding. I transferred to an all girls school so I could get away without brushing my hair in the morning or shaving my legs on a regular basis. It was glorious. I highly recommend single sex education if you want your child to forget everything they know about personal hygiene. Really, it's a great move.
Those PLLs should learn something from me. Wear less makeup, don't talk about your friends behind their backs, and go to an all girls school to avoid Toby and other sexy traitors like him. Also, call the police. Just do it. And don't go to remote cabins with creepers. Just make out with them on your front porch steps.
*thanks, "Mean Girls"
*thanks, "Mean Girls"
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