GT: bad skin, bad girls

This is tres chouette, oui? An underground artist has been posting hello kitty's around Student Ghetto, possibly other places too but who leaves this hell hole, right?

Anyway, today I'm addressing two important girl topics: 1) acne on your birthday and 2) girl on girl hate.

ACNE ON YOUR BIRTHDAY
Basically, everyone knows that as soon as you approach a big event; graduation, birthday, wedding, awesome concert, your skin breaks out like you just got your first boner. It's a sad inevitability that equates major photo op with dirty pores. Stress makes you get pimples bla bla bla! More likely, it's cosmic goons out to make the happiest days of our lives also our most sad. Did you notice that you don't get acne on important days when you have a terrible haircut, fucked up eyebrows, lip herpes, black eye or swollen ears? It's because your face is already ruined, the cosmic goons figure adding a zit would be wasteful, they have bat mitzvahs to get to.

GIRL ON GIRL HATE
Isn't it weird when girls hate girls? It's so much fun to talk about boobs, pregnancy scares and boyfriends/girlfriends, I can't imagine missing any of it! Girls coined the cute acronym "BFF" because when you're a girl and you meet another girl, your common interests of hair dying, vibrators, women's rights, period grossness and loving cute, furry things immediately bond you two into BFFs! Unless of course, you're a girl who hates girls. Weird.

This one time in 5th grade at Moriarty Elementary School, I found out about girl on girl hate. Our class had just come back from an all day field trip from Bandelier. We got back a little earlier than planned so Mrs. Yeager let us play on the jungle gym until everyone's parents showed up. It was a pretty awesome three tier jungle gym that was only built the year prior. It had the swirly slide, the coil ladder, the space age monkey bar rings, the ramp with foot holes ... anyway, one by one everyone's parents came by and we all shouted our goodbyes!!! at the top of our lungs from the jungle gym fortress. Finally, the last remaining kids were us girls: Tally, Seneca and me.

Tally and Seneca were good friends, not BFFs, but they were both very beautiful so it forced them to be in the same social circle. I was in the lowest social circle at the time for the following reasons: gigantic purple framed glasses, super crooked teeth, my Save the Otters tee shirt I insisted on wearing at least twice a week, and general shyness of boys. Plus, I hadn't yet gone through the Beatles phase where the world of beautiful music, drugs and England open up to you, so I was muy pre-pubescent. These girls, Tally and Seneca, were already wearing classy bras. I digress.

So, there we were racing obstacle courses on that mothereffing cool jungle gym. At one point all of us were on the top near the twisty slide. Seneca sat down in the tube and looked up at me. She asked what kind of underpants I was wearing, looked over at Tally and winked. "Uhm, white ones?" I answered back. And then she pulled my windbreaker sweatpants down and pushed off down the slide laughing from inside the yellow tube. Tally made a pretend sad face, but not really disappointed at Seneca's action and slid down the tube after her. They both ran off back to the classroom. She made fun of me and acted the bitch the rest of the year, too. Apparently white panties with purple flowers were so retarded.

Being an naive, little sprout, I probably stayed mad at her for the next year. I never got back at her ... err ... well ... ok, maybe I did write a mean message in her 5th grade yearbook, but all it said was "hey seneca baby, don't call me, I WON'T call you!" Being a play off of the phrase "don't call me, I'll call you" or something like that. Although it wasn't the nicest thing to write, it still was quite accurate since neither of us wound up calling each other that summer. Not the best year for me. It was also the year I accidentally called our teacher "Mom" in front of the class, but that's another classic humiliating story.

ANYWAY!

I had no mean thoughts toward her throughout middle and high school, I just knew to stay away from her. She was a girl who hates girls. Weird. She could have been there when I ran away for a couple days or started having sex and all the fun, midnight phone convos. Oh wellsies. Anyhow, I saw on myspace that she married her high school football quarterback boyfriend. Talk about living the "peaking in high school" cliche to the very last detail. But still, good thoughts to her.