And it Feels Like I’m 17 Again

Yes that’s what I looked like when I was 17. Ah 17. I thought I knew it all. We all did. I posted on FB yesterday the following status update:

To all my Saline High School friends, I heard this on the way in to work this morning and it made me think about high school dances, smoking cigarettes at the dead end, parties at the Troll Bridge, making out under the bleachers at football games, being stoned at football games, getting drunk on Boone’s Farms wine and stealing kisses from other girl’s boyfriends. OMFG did we have some good damn fun!!!!

What I didn’t realize would happen is old friends would start flooding my comments section with memories.

Tracy talked about singing Yankee Rose by Van Halen with David, riding around in Goodman’s old white van, smoking and drinking Mountain Dew. Then she asked me about the stolen kisses from someone else’s boyfriend and I told her a lady never tells. But then I was never much of a lady. Then she called me a dirty tramp. Which I was, but so what. I had me a lot of fun. The only stolen kisses I will talk about were Bobby’s. Oh my God that boy could kiss me till my lips swelled and they stung from the tiny bites he would give me.

Then Ronnie piped in about the University Drive In. He and Tracy reminisced about going there on the weekends in David’s old white van. Then the guys took off their shoes and they stunk the whole damn thing up. They had to jump out of it because the smell was horrendous and made them gag. I remember that drive in too. Couldn’t tell you what the hell was on the screen but I knew I was doing it with my boyfriend at the time. The windows were all steamed up, and our friends in the other damn car kept banging on the fucking windows!!!!

Then Danny had to chime in about us all getting caught by the cops making out in the industrial park. It was vacant back in the day. So of course the cops could see the car from the main road. I was a police cadet, so I knew the cop that flashed his light at me. Nice! I was wild, but not very bright. He then proceeded to remind me of the time he drove home with Cheryl’s bra on his head. I don’t remember which Cheryl, but I sure do remember the incident he wrote about. I tried to get him to tell me which Cheryl it was, but he plead the 5th on her last name. The thought of our crazy antics made this sparkly old girl smile.

I then told Danny (yes, he’s Dan to everyone else, but he’ll always be Danny to me) that I had this great wish. I wished for unlimited funds so I could fly everyone home for a big ass party in a pole barn. We’d have a bonfire and a pig roast. The beer and wine would be flowing. There’d be 80’s music in the background cranked up to 11. We’d laugh about the old times, cry for those we lost (we were Death Valley Saline after all), we’d share what’s happened in our lives for the last 25 to 30 years and we’d enjoy every minute of it. I told Danny I wish we could all be in the same room, not because I miss the old days, but because I miss my friends. I miss 17. I miss riding around on the roof of a car, drunk and screaming at my friend that was driving to go faster. Yes, I know I was crazy, and I’m lucky I’m not dead.

I went on to say that I didn’t want to have a party in some damn country club. That’s not who we are. Even if we are white collar, we still like the idea of beer and a bonfire. I love that my high school friends support me in my writing. But it’s not only that. It’s the sense of community that I feel with my FB friends. There is so much love and support. When there’s sadness we lift each other up. When there is anger, we bitch and fight. When there is loss, we do what we can to show our support. When a silly girl like me posts funny status updates and my friend Lisa says start a blog, you have talent, you do it. Because there is so much love and support among us.

I love, love, love, love, love, my friends. My friend Tracy from Saline, now she is one girl I would have never been friends with in high school. She scared the absolute shit out of me. I talk to her every day now. She’s one of my best friends and I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s still one bad ass mother fucker, but she’s my friend and I love her.

I don’t wish to be 17 again. I wish to have my friends around me from when I was 17. They were everything to me. They still are. The beauty of it is, I get to talk to them every day on FB. It’s not the same as seeing them in person though. I am creating an event today though. Dan’s Tavern in Saline, Thanksgiving weekend. Whoever is home better show up and have a cold one. We need some time together. To laugh, hug, love, and cry. To remember.

Man how I wish I had my Jordache jeans, my bright pink off the shoulder sweat shirt and wide belt. Of course I had to wear a pair of bright pink heels to complete the ensemble. Big ass earrings too and my hair feathered and hair sprayed to the sky with half a can of Aqua Net. Now to find those Marlboro Reds, and that bottle of Boone’s Farm, Tickle Pink of course. Dammit, now I want a smoke!

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