Don't Always Trust a Wiener in Two Buns


In honor of my 14 year high school reunion tomorrow I give you some photos, and some "year-play." Keep in mind that I don't have a working scanner, therefore I had to photograph with the world's oldest digital camera a page out of my Sophomore Yearbook. Now, the lady in red is me. I am not quite sure who defaced me--probably I did it to myself--but this page affords you a good snapshot of not onle me, but two players in yesterday's post right on the page--To my right is the omni-present Seamus Ruane with the ski-slope cowlick and below me is Alex Schafran, the boy I once pretended had knocked me up for the sake of high school journalism. The photo below gives you a slightly better close up. That's me, 16 years ago. Holy shit. 16!!

Now, to reveal the true nature of some of these people, let me post their comments in my Sophomore yearbook in all their pithy glory. Italics are my comments.

"Jordan, it was very interesting (that's because I told dirty jokes) talking with you during 7th period (I was always the girl you wanted to be friends, not date). Photo was quite boring. I'm glad I got to know you this year and I hope we'll coninue next year or even over the summer (oh the promises!!). I won't be around much, but maybe." Alex.

"Jordie. French was fun. You stole my best friend, thief!" Jennifer (I have no recall of this purported theft).

"Jordie. I think you're the only person I know with a name as weird as mine. It's been nice seeing you every morning although I'm usually grumpy. You probably can't say the same."
--Florie.

"Jordie, I'm not very good at writing long sentimental things (as you know). I'm sorry for the mistakes (Oh yeah? Like having the audacity to tell me, "I really think we're going to have sex!" --as if it was your decision--and then dumping my ass a week later? Like that?) Enough of the hokey B.S. (spoken like a true 16 year old boy). Have a good time this summer and remember as I quote the great prophet Russel Violet (his buddy and band mate), "Don't always trust a wiener in two buns." (Amen, my friend. Amen).-- Bill "I wanna be a rock star" Rousseau

"Jordie have a great summer if I don't see ya, surf drunk but don't skate stoned. Don't drink too much coffee, it will stunt your grwoth. But good drugs won't. Cheap ones are bad, got that?" --Jack. (excellent advice I have lived my life by).

"Hey Jordie, like I said in Jen's yearbook, I'm very sorry."--Jeni (Yeah you big ho. You trash talking bit...wait...For what? I can't even remember what she did to me!)

And the piece de resistance, the most original one in my whole yearbook:
"Jordie, I glad that we are friends. You are really sweet. Never change. Call me over the summer." Chris(tina).

Never change? God. Can you imagine? I'd still be wearing crazy baby-doll dresses and neon tights, dying my hair red and blaring Sinead O'Connor while lying in bed all day pining for boys who didn't give two hoots. Or I'd still be in that corner cafe down in Fairfax, except that instead of mochas, I'd be drinking coffee and rum and bumming change off people so I could afford to eat before I made it to my night job at Kinkos, where I'd dream of becoming a writer.

Thank holy high heaven for change!

JPR

Close-up: