stories from the yearbook.
an otherwise poorly planned diversion from other topics I should be discussing

So. SB has now completed reading the cast of her entire McGarity experience to me. Straight from the pages of the cherished yearbook ... from kindergarten to fifth grade... she read them all to her mom. Did I mention that I was on the edge of my seat the entire time?

I flipped through the pages when she was done... as if I hadn't had enough already.... and read what all her friends had wrote .... apparently, the rules have not changed... the more signatures you have, the more popular you must be... and, every girl must catch the signature of that ohsocute phys ed teacher or cute boy who they have never spoken to before in their life. The signatures are like autographs... perhaps some sort of unknown future in Hollywood... practice for crowds of screaming fans.

I wondered where SB would be eight or so years from now, when she's sixteen, and coveting her junior yearbook as much as her second grade one she got two days ago. Will Conner still be the cutest boy on the planet? Will he still be short? Will Carrie Ann and Addie still be SB's best friends? Will Jonathan stop being such a complete pain in the ass and turn into some handsome, raven haired football captain? Will SB be a cheerleader or in the band? Will little Miss Creative follow in her mommy's footsteps, and spend her afternoons held up in the yearbook room, with her Creative Buddies, creating the next edition of her high school life? Maybe by then it will all be digital.

I spent my junior and senior year on "The Staff," of our high school yearbook. What drama. What intrigue. What a complete waste of a class period. We met our deadlines early in the year, and spent the rest of the time flirting with our very young,ever so handsome and mutually flirtatious "advisor," watching cartoons, and eating. Whenever someone walked by, we quickly busied ourselves with pencils behind our ears, wiping the "sweat" off our brows. We took many, many field trips, "research," you know. I was co-editor of the senior section.... which meant typing in all 95 senior "wills," and making sure that everyone had their picture in on time. And, when seventh period was over, I waited on *the boy* to walk up the hallway to meet me... . If you needed to cry or talk or gossip or bitch, you did so on the old sofa in the back room. If that sofa could talk, it could certainly tell some juicy stories. The best gossip in the school originated and happened right there. There was also a mini fridge there, where, in the days before school vending machines, we stored our sodas. And a telephone. In the days when cellphones were not, this is where you called your college boyfriend ... just to put on the appropriate show in front of you other female staffers. People who were not "on staff" desired to be. They wanted to know what was in the mysterious "back room," and why they couldn't come in. We were an exclusive club, and membership certainly had it's seventeen year old benefits. Seven girls. Seven girls from every social class in the school... amd there were three boys, who considered themselves the luckiest three boys in the school. They knew all the gossip... all the stories, usually had one of the seven in their lap... and even created some of their own drama in the room that should have been the darkroom.

I realized tonight when I was going back through my own yearbooks - that it wasn't so much the pages inside that mattered... it was knowing that I was a part of something that fun... a part of an exclusive, elusive group of friends that created something hundreds of my classmates still have. The book is sort of a symbol of those days... the fruit of our completely slacker state of being during seventh period "labor".

And my favorite signing? This is definitely it:

Rachael:
Ok. Here I am again! Can you believe it? We've been friends for eight years! We're finally upperclassmen this year! ALMOST SENIORS! I am so glad to have you as my best friend. Even though we have our differences, we always work through them... it has been a great eight years. Thanks for always being there for me. I will always be here for you. I think everyone knows we're not lesbians now, even though we've been hugging since the first day of school here. Thank you for keeping Jon interested that last year. I love you very much! I'll be praying for you! Love, Tinian Kai.

It might sound silly. Ok. It does sound silly.

But, Tinian and I... best friends since the second grade. She was the girl with the huge mouth and long braids, whose name no one could pronounce. We were like PB&J from that moment on. I introduced her to her husband (Jon). Who begged me for a year straight to get her to out with him. Just once. Three kids, two houses, and one recording contract later... I'd say they're happily married.

And that's what it's all about. Looking back... wondering where everyone is nowadays. What everyone is doing... how they are doing.... I even have my famous person (soon to be) autograph....

.... Rachael,
I have enjoyed our years together tremendously. You are such a blast to be around. I hope you don't forget about me when you're a supermodel. Please keep an eye on Tinian. I worry about her. Love, Jason.

So now - Jason has his own CD. And rock star hair. And at least a hundred screaming girls who want to have his babies... even though he already has a wife and baby. Who is the supermodel now? I'll save this one and cash it in on Ebay when he makes it really big.

And Malia ... she has her own celebrity signing too. Just ask her about Bo Bice.

Wonder who SB will stick with? Who will be her PB? Will she sign her yearbook? Who knows... by then, it will all be digital anyway. This post kinda sucked. You'll have to forgive me and pretend it's future pulitzer material. At least just this once.

Rach