Teen Angst

When I was in 7th grade I went to an overnight camp or retreat or whatever it was for smart kids.

After the camp my teacher made a comment to my parents about how she was worried I didn’t have a good time or that it had been rough for me or something.

And hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo boy…she was correct.

Ever experience the agony of being the fat girl targeted by a group of 12-year-old mean girls?

When I think back to the handful of times I wish I could get in my time machine and go back to stick up for myself, that weekend is at the top of the list.

Granted, the fact that I slept in nightgowns when all the other girls slept in shorts and t-shirts and the fact that I maaaaaaaaay have farted when trying to climb down from the top bunk (the last time I ever voluntarily took the top bunk) meant that I sort of gave them a lot to work with, but dude, that weekend sucked.

I remember there was this team building (?) activity where everyone laid down next to each other and rolled in the same direction, creating a conveyer belt-like thing for one person who laid perpendicularly on top of the others. The people on the bottom rolled and eventually rolled the person on top off, at which point that person joined the conveyer belt and the next person became the roll-ee.

Now, if I were somehow confronted with this exercise today, I’d say I AM SITTING THIS SHIT OUT, ASSHOLES…but 12-year-old me was a people pleaser who was terrified of sticking out or disobeying, so I dutifully took my position on top of my fellow smart 12-year-olds and OHHHHHHHHH the moaning and groaning under the weight of me was LOUD. (And seriously, in retrospect, I was a chubby 12-year-old, but I wasn’t a 200 pounder or anything so I’m EXTRA annoyed with those bitches for giving me a complex.) That whole thing is on the Top Ten Most Embarrassing Events of My Childhood list.

The whole thing was miserable, I ate my meals alone (or with the teachers, who would join me so I wouldn’t be at a table all by myself) and I generally COULD NOT WAIT TO GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE.

On the last day the leaders gave us awards and I got a tongue-in-cheek “Most Talkative” award from my leader, who happened to have also worked at my daycare when I was in elementary school (and on whom I maaaaaaaay have had a major pre-teen crush).

We were also given “yearbooks” with all the other campers’ phone numbers and addresses so we could keep in touch (KIT!) with all of our new BFFs.

Right.

And then a month or so later I got an envelope in the mail with an intentionally smudged and unintelligible return address. Inside was an ad for weight loss pills that had been clipped out of the newspaper with a note that said “Elizabeth – Try this – it works!”

I don’t know for sure that it had been oh-so-graciously mailed to me by the mean girls at smart kid camp, but in general the kids I went to school with didn’t tend to go out of their way to be mean to me (though there was that one time I was accidentally passed a note in class and opened it up to see a sketch of a Jabba the Hut-esque creature called “Elizabeth Eating Lunch” that the artist LAUNCHED across the classroom to snatch out of my hand so I wouldn’t see…but he was a moment too late…) so I’ve always chalked that pleasant weight loss pill suggestion via the USPS to be from one of the girls from that camp.

But blah blah blah, being an adolescent SUCKS for 75,000 reasons. We all have those awful stories to tell, I know.

Fast forward 23 years to today and I was looking at the invite list for my friend Terry’s 40th birthday party. One of the names looked familiar so I looked him up on Facebook and I OMG’d because it looks like I’ll be seeing the leader who gave me the “Most Talkative” award at that hellish smart kid camp. I’d love to just say “OMG I had the biggest crush on you when you worked at my day care!!” but because we’ll be going wine tasting as part of this birthday celebration, I’m prettttty sure it’ll be “OMG I had the biggest crush on you when you worked at my day care! And then two years later you tried to be nice to me at smart kid camp by giving me a silly award but really that backfired and those girls were extra mean to me. It was an event that haunted me for years and years but don’t worry, I turned out okay.”

So I have to figure out a way to tell that story so it’s light and OH HA HA and not OMG TEEN ANGST BEING REVISITED 20+ YEARS LATER AND PS HAPPY BIRTHDAY TERRY.