High School

Ever watched the “Behind the Scenes” under the subheading “Extras” in High School Musical Tres?

Of course, you haven’t. 

If you have, you must have been looking through our living room window a few weeks ago and you are a low-life creep. Get some help, why doncha? And don’t tell anyone what I look like with nappy hair, popcorn peppering my shirt and children laying on my every appendage like the papasan section at Ikea.

For the rest of you non-delinquents, it went a little something like this:

Fade into closing shot with the six very rich teen stars jumping in the air with their graduation gowns.

Fade out.

Cue crying.

Cue hugging.

Cue sappy expressions sobbed into shoulders like, “I can’t believe it’s over! We’re really growing up! It’s been so amazing!”

Interview each cast member about how much they will miss this crew, this cast, this, well, everything.

And that’s pretty much all I can remember because it so did not affect my life.

However, it did give me pause to remember my own feelings when I graduated from High School um…somewhere along the lines of…um…sdlfjsdfjsdkaf17sdlfjasdfjaskd years ago.

Actually graduation wasn’t that emotional. But my last choir concert made me feel like I’d just been ejected from a plane and landed on my tippy-toes teetering on the lip of an active volcano.

The active volcano was named “Life After High School” which is really an unusual name, but scientists are kind of weird that way.

While I found myself staring into this strangely named fireball/ science project gone wrong, I was swamped with questions: What would college be like? Can I do it? Will I ever learn to open a box of macaroni? Will I ever meet awesome friends again? Will I ever have a date for crying out loud? What does the future hold?

And other such blatherings…

And so, here you have my letter from me (at the age of sadfjsdklfjasdf34djfasdfa;sdf) to me at the age of almost 18.

Dear Elizabeth,

Wow! You are so young. I mean, you are just SO YOUNG! Just look at you! No pizza dough tummy, muffin top or jiggle. Wow—you are insanely YOUNG!

Sorry. That probably comes across a tad condescending. You really are a great almost woman person.

You’ve been through a lot and have a good head on your shoulders. You know what’s important and how you want to live your life.

However.

HOWEVER.

There are a few things that might prove useful to know and tuck away in your teal luggage that your Mom bought you at JC Penney.

In bullet form since I like bullets, but not guns:

• Ok, B.N.F. (Bad News First): acne doesn’t go away. I’m sorry to break it to ya. It comes and goes depending on hormones, hygiene and sweltering places you live. I’m really sorry, it really is terrible……..I’ll give you a minute to grieve.

• Ok, better now? Did you wipe your nose with a noncomedogenic tissue? Kidding. You don’t even know what that means, do you? And that’s ok because I can’t even pronounce it. And neither can the rest of you out there, right? If you can, say it 10 times fast. See? We’re all weird and a smidgen pathetic, so don’t feel bad!
• Those people you’re hugging and crying over? The friends you hung out in hallways with during musical rehearsals, travelled to NYC and vocal competitions with? They are wonderful people but a large majority of them (like 90%) you will barely have contact with until the invention of Facebook 16 years down the road. But that comes after the life-altering World Wide Web and and email. Don’t ask—even now, I still don’t really understand how it works. But believe you me you have been blessed with great friends and you will continue to be bonded with awesome folk.
• You will shockingly graduate from your dream school (after attending two others) and you will have an inordinate amount of fun. Like gobs. On top of gobs. You don’t even ever lower your standards—it’s all sober and clean! You will make so many friends and laugh so much that you will 15 years later have permanent laugh lines.
• Did I say permanent, because I really mean Per. Ma. Nent.
• Also too, you will have a perma-wrinkle because you are forever losing your sunglasses. Buy stock. Buy many. If nothing else, remember this. BEWARE THE PERMA-WRINKLE!
• Student loans are real. You will be paying them back for years and years and years to come.
• You’ll never be a guy-magnet dating phenom—it’s just not in the cards. You’re cute, but not that cute. You’re funny, but not that funny. You’re smart, but not that smart. And you are among the lowest ranks of flirters. You are quite abysmal at it. If you were in a locked room with 20 eligible bachelors for an hour, you would make them feel like they were hanging out with their little sister and as they exit, you would be passing out your friends' phone numbers that would be perfect for each of them.
• You will only kiss two more men in your life—the last being your husband. But don’t worry, you will have many guy friends. You probably would have had more kissers if you’d met your fashion-adept roommate earlier and she had been able to school you on the faux pas of combining flannel and sweats with the floppy pony-tail bun. But it did keep you in the single queue long enough to meet your husband.
• No, he won’t be tall and blond. Or speak fluent girl-eze. But he is handsome and very kind. And he thinks you are hysterical. (Right, Jeremy? Right?)He will be a great Dad and he’s perfect for you.
• Oh, and all those crazy names you’ve concocted over the last few years for your future children like Dannon Yoplait and Escondido Ballentine are a no-go. Thankfully you got married at 24 instead of 19 and your future children were spared the embarrassment of not fitting their name into the 7 squares provided for standardized tests (you’d think you’d know better, Elizabe) and were given very sensible names that wouldn’t get them shoved in a locker in 6th grade.
• Don’t worry so much about money, which guy is “the one” or what people think about you.
• Lastly, you know how you gained much fame and had much revelry showing everyone in High School your dolphin, weasel and car alarm impressions? Stop. Please stop. It really is unattractive and not as funny as you think.

Maybe I shouldn’t even tell you all this. You do pretty well despite the poor choice in clothing, the acne, the lack of flirt-ability and the car alarm side show.

Despite all that, life’s turned out pretty well. So far.

Not perfect. Not painless. But good. Great, even. I have the peace in knowing that God loves me. I have the knowledge that He has a plan for me. And I am surrounded by wonderful people who put up with my antics, my drama and my still-in-learning-mode-ness.

So, maybe forget all that lecturing, get as many laugh and sun-wrinkles as you want. Play pranks, goof off, work hard, serve others, make people laugh, and just have fun.

I know you will.

Love,

Elizabeth

How ‘bout y’all? What would you tell yourself on your High School Graduation day?