So you’ve seen a good portion of my high school persona (insert drill down), but you’ve yet to see this:
This is my newspaper shirt. Not too flashy, no cool graphics. The back is a pretty newspaper outline with the staff listed thereon. Most comfiest shirt ever. And what kind of dork-crew were we to choose long sleeves?! (A decision I have never regretted.)
Honestly, people who hated high school, what were you doing?! It certainly wasn’t the time of my life – seeing as I like to live that continuously – but there’s so much to do! Things that actually have to do with who you are, what you enjoy, your particular talents. Who was not taking advantage of this? I dunno. Perchance those of us who really take an active interest in classes that challenge us and teams and organizations that we shape and that shape us don’t think of it as the “best four years” because we do the same thing in college. And after that. And after that. The moral is: if you don’t really experience high school, it’s probably your fault and you probably won’t get much out of the next phase either. O_O (And to the girl winding up with that slingshot and smooth stone, killing me won’t make you as cool as me. Unless this is Highlander. In which case you should have a sword.)
Lemme tell you a little something about the name I had stitched onto my newspaper shirt.
Philangala. Many of you will say, “But Bethany, your name isn’t Philangala.” And to you I’ll say, “Duh.” Philangala is a fake student at my high school who gave me a multitude of quotes for stories. She was so verbose and cooperative that I, understandably, inserted her into many a story when real-live students couldn’t string two sentences together. Oh, Philangala. I only wish I hadn’t made the difficult decision to kill you off in that story I did for the April edition of the Capers. (Though no one seemed to mourn you…neither did they take my suggested precautions when using the A/B girls’ bathroom.) And so, to honor this gorgeous alter ego, I had my shirt made in her name.
If I were going to my high school reunion next month – which, let’s be real, even before I moved to a different country wasn’t really a consideration once I found out they wanted me to pay to roll my eyes at people – I would wear this shirt. College reunion? That sounds a lot more likely.