Top Five 8th Grade Memories

My brother is graduating 8th grade.

What does this mean for me? Nothing, really, except inevitable nostalgia and feeling 22 (I’m only 20, but you get the idea). I really feel like looking back at my life as a 13-year-old is necessary at this particular moment. I think it happened long enough ago that we can finally laugh about it. Right?

I’m not posting pictures. That’s crossing the line.

1. Panther Choir. Okay, we thought we were coo (admit it). The maroon and gold robes were a symbol of elite sophistication, even though they were ugly. My taste in music started shifting from Duff and Lavigne to Chenoweth (thank God) even though my obsession with trying to hit Glinda’s high notes in Wicked wasn’t quite enough to actually help me get there, if you know what I mean.

2. Painting the wall mural in art class. You know those yellow stripes? Yeah, I painted those. I make sure to mention this every time I go back to JH for one of my brother’s concerts. No one ever seems too impressed, though. I’m still proud.

3. The talent show. I wasn’t going to bring this up, but hey, it happened. My dreams of singer/songwriter stardom were crushed, but at least I had enough determination to get up there and try. I doubt anyone really remembers (most of the audience talked through the whole thing) but I do. I rocked that Aly & AJ, thank you very much.

4. Trying to be cool. This goes on everyone’s Top 5 teenage reminiscence posts, but I had goals. I had lists. I wasn’t going to let any 4.0 grade point average or past dating relationship failures stand in my way of being “da bomb.” (I have proof of this phrase actually used in a yearbook. I’m not making stuff up.) I wore those wristbands long after they stopped being cool – sorry, past self; you were never meant to be a fashionista.

5. The dance. It’s like a mini-version of prom, unfortunately. I spent at least three hours that day getting my hair flat-ironed and styled. Do you know how many bobby pins were wasted in the making of that vital element? I went without a date and left with a new crush – that’s all I remember and I’m glad. Real prom, three years later, was much better.

Okay, maybe just one picture.


We made it through braces, bullies and bad days – and we’re still best friends. Some good came out of that year after all.

Thank the Lord we’re all grown up now.


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