9:41 a.m. - March 08, 2007
I brought my iPod, of course and the new Chuck Klosterman book that I just received from Amazon to pass the time. There were a few familiar faces there in the dance studio that I gave a polite nod towards. It seems that the dance class parents all have this relationship where they know each other without really knowing each other. It’s like, “Your daughter and my daughter are in this building at the same time, so we may as well acknowledge each other’s presence.”
While Katie was changing shoes, I went to put her tennis shoes under my chair, and I noticed a half piece of paper, ripped out of a spiral notebook. It looked like a note, and by gosh, it was a note.
Now, I had thought that note writing had gone out with Ataris and LA Gear shoes. I had thought all of the kids used IM, text messaging, and blackberries to stay in touch. Writing notes on paper seemed to be a lost art.
Of course, I remember junior high, which seems to be the peak ages for note writing. In fact, one of the worst decisions I ever made in junior high had to do with note writing.
When I was in eighth grade, I had met this tall seventh grader named Jenny. She was shy, but cute (even though she had some buck teeth, but I thought that added to her cute factor, really) and seemed to be impressed with my feeble attempts at humor and charm. My charisma rating wasn’t so hot back in the day. I’m glad I got to re-roll those dice when I graduated from college.
Anyway, we weren’t ‘going together’, mainly because I didn’t ask her, but she always hung out with me at my locker and we talked a bit before and after school. Then she started leaving me notes in my locker.
First it was one a day, then a couple, and then it seemed like one each period.
At first, I liked the attention, but two lockers down from me was my friend from elementary school Mike, who thought I needed to assert some control and distance, or something. Basically, the message was that a few notes were OK, but too many notes isn’t cool.
Heck, I was 14, like I knew everything.
Anyway, one day, Jenny left about six or seven notes in my locker after one period. They all tumbled to the ground. Mike saw that and basically said, “Dude, now she embarrassed you.”
So I saw Jenny and put a stop to the note writing.
Well, she stopped talking with me, of course, but by the end of the school year, we started to chat a little bit. And the next year, after about a month, we were a ‘couple’. After school, we used to sneak kisses in empty classrooms. I had braces, so she had to get used to that. (But they were pretty chaste kisses.)
There were a few notes, of course, because that’s what you did when you ‘went’ together. But need I tell you that we never really went OUT, we always just hung out at school and didn’t call that much, and there was a reason for that.
Her parents were pretty devout people, and didn’t cotton to their 8th grade girl hanging around with boys, especially boys that didn’t go to their church. Now, mind you I went to a Methodist Church, but they went to a Baptist Church in New Market, and I guess that made all of the difference in the world.
So by the end of April, it was over, due to irreconcilable religious differences, or something. Ah, well. Anyway, the point is that I almost blew a chance to kiss an actual real live girl (and I did in 8th grade) because of a provincial attitude towards notes.
But I really had thought they were a relic of the past, until I found this one.
Like I said, this note was on a half piece of notebook paper ripped out. It had been folded at some point, and there was a flap on it that had the address and a little note. In reading it, this was a note passed between close friends who were in different dance classes, and they were at least 8th grade, or maybe higher.
The flap said “Wear Dance Sweet shirt and call Emily so she will. 2: MacKenzie F/M: Me.”
The text from “Me”, which my ace detective skillz deduced that it was “Meagan” read as follows:
“Hey ok getting ready 2 go in 2 jazz – jazz hands – lol so shorts and orange shirt t*ts (sp) or no t*ts (sp)
Love ya sis w/b before u live please call me c ya bye Meagan
The response from MacKenzie:
“there is not lots of room 2 write but I will anyway! I will wear…”
And now I’m flipping over the note, as MacKenzie wrote on the back.
“tights and I will wear the shorts + the t-shirt u gave me! I hoep u don’t break up with Zain any time soon cause I mean he called u sexy just because u dance! Wow! Don’t let the Chris memories hold u back u no I promised I wouldn’t go out with him!
Love ya like a sis! Kenzie Jo!”
Well, know, there’s drama. So Zain (that HAS to be a Zane, right?) and Meagan are a couple and MacKenzie thinks Zane is a keeper because she things Meagan is sexy, and that MacKenzie acknowledges that Meagan had a tough breakup with Chris, but MacKenzie promised that she wouldn’t go out with him.
Well, now, what are your conclusions? Will MacKenzie keep her promise, or will she and Chris have a torrid affair behind Meagan’s back. Will Zane and Meagan last past the school year? Isn’t Kenzie Jo a perfect name for BFE land?
Anyway, it made my heart proud to see that the traditional ways for giggly girls to communicate throughout history was still being used.
And part of me will always wonder if Chris and Kenzie Jo ever hooked up.