I went to Value Village on the weekend, and got the following items for a total cost of $42.77 tax included. This is why I have to remind myself to stop paying a ridiculous, extravagant amount of money for clothing, and just spend an extra hour shopping vintage.
SICK Yves Saint Laurent MINT condition FRENCH DESIGNER SKIRT. $5.00.
Pair of high-waisted black pleated pants. $5.00.
Pair of navy high-waisted cuffed shorts. $5.00.
Mint condition grey high-waisted Ralph Lauren skirt. $5.00.
The truth is this: I really, really, really don’t use much of what I learned in high school. In fact, I don’t remember much of what I learned in high school. Being an anti-social and frizzy-haired loser, I had ample time to pour over books and assignments, and I got really, really, really good marks. Annnnnnnnd it was all for balls.
Point and case – I got 100% in Grade 12 Algebra. Not to be vain, but there it is. Today, while I was preparing to write this blog, I actually searched Algebra in Wikipedia because I totally even forget what kind of math algebra is. Yes. That is how much I use it now. So I thought I would provide some insight into how I use my high school education in my everyday life.
So, here is the one thing I remember from Biology class. Your body can burn calories by melting an ice cube in your mouth! Energy is required to melt ice, and it’s usually measured in Kj (kilojoules, baby!). KILOJOULES can be converted to calories, sucka! However, I think my teacher said that to burn 100 calories (about 1/3 of a chocolate bar), you need to melt like a litre of ice in your mouth. So, it’s not really that practical. But STILL. Super-useful information!
All I remember from Physics is that I was one of the only girls who was in Physics class and all the boys had half-chubbies while doing Physics experiments out in the main forum because I think it made them feel smarter and more powerful than everyone. ME MAN. ME THROW BALL AND MEASURE VELOCITY. NOW CRUSH BEER CAN ON HEAD.
The chemistry teacher HATED me because I openly bitched about how BORING chemistry is to his face, and yet I still got good marks. AND he had really, really bad facial hair. He totally was Billy Mays’ twin:
All I remember from gym is that, for some reason, Rhythmic Gymnastics seemed to take up like 12 weeks of the year. Not that I’m complaining, I totally heart the ribbon. I was awesome at the ribbon.
RELEASE THE SPIT VALVE. And, I also remember the first day of Grade 9 music. The music teacher (who also looked like Billy Mays, by the way), played us this song (see below). It has looped in my brain like a soundtrack to my life ever since.
Math (Algebra, Calculus, etc.):
This is the math I use on a daily basis…
Amount needed to cover rent and bills = x
Amount needed to purchase that item of clothing I really, really want = y
Amount that I’m getting paid this month = x
Amount of suckage that produces = (x)(y)
I’m an English nerd. I loved English. Loved. It. English was the the best class ever and it made me a totally awesome person. And I met my long-time serious boyfriend, Fitzwilliam Darcy.
La grenouille mange le pamplemousse.
I also loved drama. Sigh. Why aren’t I still doing drama?
I learned how to gaze at boys secretly while pretending to study for chemistry. Surprisingly, I think this “lurking” skill is probably the one skill that I actually use on a day to day basis… not that I’m creepy… or lurk-y… ummmmmmmm… yeah. I lurk.
High school for me was a blur of awkward hairstyles, ill-fitting jeans, and anti-climactic school dances. Basically, I was Angela Chase, without the cool red hair (I believe it was called “Crimson Glow”) and doe-eyes. And about 30 pounds heavier.
Looking back on my awkwardness, I am struck with the fact that I actually put myself together like that and walked out of the house thinking that I was presentable.
Here is a picture of what I believe I looked like in High School:
Frizzy Triangle Hair: In its natural state, my hair is lustrous, curly and disheveled. This infuriated me when I was 15 – I wanted straight, thin hair that stuck to my head like a sheet (for some reason). This led to daily attempts to straighten my hair (this was before the invention of ceramic hair straighteners). Not sure if you know this, but if you have curly hair and you try to straighten it, it turns into a hair triangle that’s straight on top and frizzy on the bottom. AND HORRIBLE-LOOKING.
In about 2nd year university, I made the decision to stop being so judgmental of my natural hair, and work WITH its natural curl. To be perfectly honest, it looks pretty good – I get compliments on it all the time. MEEEEH! So much wasted straightening time!
Potato Nose and Bum Chin: I have a potato-nose and a bum-chin. It’s how I look and it can’t really be changed. And although I still don’t like either one, I was SO focused on this in high school. Damn popular chicks all had that ski-jump nose thing that Sailor Moon had. Damn Sailor Moon! Setting unrealistic expectations for women everywhere with her 5 foot 11, 98-pound frame and ski jump nose and balls-on-the-head hairstyle.
Anyways, I grew into my potato nose, and my bum chin isn’t TOO bum-esque. I mean, it’s not like John Travolta’s or anything like that.
Oversized Men’s Clothes: I was just as into vintage shopping back then as I am now. However, I was a bit of a heifer in high school and I wasn’t really the most confident chick in the world. What ended up happening is that I would buy cool men’s clothes, like 1970s jeans and western shirts and bell-bottom dress pants, and wear them with oversized sweaters that completely covered me and made me look like a big yam. I remember a pair of plaid bell-bottoms that I used to wear… jesus. Since then I’ve learned that my body type can wear certain things, and can’t wear other things, and I’ve learned (at least I THINK I’ve learned) how to dress to avoid a yam-like appearance.
Airwalks: Yeah, I had those blue suede Airwalks. Whatever. I bet they’ll be back in style in about 3 years.
So, in conclusion, pubescent populace, your time at high-school really is a transition while you figure out what you actually look like. You’ll grow out of it.
Ladies. You know who I’m talking about. That guy you have a big crush on, who you think about while listening to Justin Beiber songs (or, in my case, Side A of OK Computer). He’s got that “disheveled yet still perfectly coiffed” hairstyle. He skips class and hangs out with the “smokers” in the “smoker’s pit”. He looks sexier in a jean jacket than anyone you’ve ever seen before.
Yes, I had that guy, too. I was totally, and completely, obsessed with him, and fantasized about him suddenly realizing that, despite my frizzy hair and awkward tomboy aesthetic, I am beautiful and perfect for him, and we would ride out of the school parking lot together in his parent’s vintage blue MG that he would drive to school.
And now that I’ve been out of high school for several years, I’m here to tell you why you need to realize he is balls.
After several years of allowing my life to grow beyond the confines of my small suburban high school, I’ve discovered the following: the guy you like in high school will probably turn out to be an awful, awful catch when you are an adult. Here is a pie chart to help you understand.
WHAT WILL END UP HAPPENING TO YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH:
My advice, as a sage, older, wiser person, is to fall in love with the guy that people tend to overlook. The truth is that the best guys are the ones who are gangly and awkward and not the coolest in high school. Those guys didn’t rely on their laid-back good looks and actually had to develop a personality. Then, they grow into their looks and become jaw-droppingly gorgeous. I present, as an example, one of my current man-crushes, John Krasinski:
John in 2000 as an intern:
John in 2010 as one of the sexiest men alive:
Basically, my thesis is as follows:
COOL GUY IN HIGH SCHOOL LOOKS LIKE THIS WHEN HE’S 28:
Today, while at Shoppers Drug Mart purchasing some shampoo, I noticed that the “Back to School” display had been put up on cue for August 1st. I used to love Back to School shite, and especially loved the ridiculous and pubescent “Teen Packs” that they hock to 13 year old girls who are worried about smelling like zit creme.
After walking down zit creme lane for a few minutes, I realized how HORRIBLE high school was for me, and how THRILLED I am that I am no longer the awkward, unpopular, frizzy-haired loser that I once was. Well, kinda. Anyways, I thought that I could impart some pearls of wisdom to those 13-18 year-olds who are all wrapped up in the meaninglessness of high school. Yey! High School awkwardness!