I got to thinking tonight, after visiting a Facebook page dedicated to the small town I grew up in, about how much fun it was to grow up in the 80s as a teenager.
Yeah, we didn’t have the Internet (eeeee gawds!).
We didn’t have cell phones.
I had to get my lazy ass off the dent in the sofa to change the channel. My tolerance for mis-aligned rabbit ears was quite high. I could watch a show even though its horizontal tuning made the picture flip up every 10 seconds.
I didn’t even have caller ID until I was 22.
My 1973 Buick LeSabre (the boat) had an AM radio that would change stations if I took a sharp turn (doing 85mph!).
That same “boat” saw tons o’ backseat action from my friends (and occasionally me) at parties at the Peach Orchard or on someone’s farm or backyard.
I hid my smokes and my birth control pills under the seat in my car and blamed them on my friends when my mom found them.
We had tons of parties most weekends since my mom was newly married to my ex-step-father and they’d go out and come home very late with leaves in their hair.
At those parties, everyone would throw their beer cans into the snow in the backyard, only to be discovered by my mom when the snow melted. I lied on the spot SOOOO well about where the beer cans originated that I somehow managed to not only NOT get in trouble, but garner sympathy from her.
At those same parties, we once had someone take the bananas in the fruit basket and half eat them, then stick their gooey remains all over the house to be found by my mom upon coming home. That was harder to explain than the beer cans, but I managed.
After those awesome parties, boys would toss rocks at my sister’s and my bedroom windows to get us to sneak out–we typically did! We just had to wait for either the AC or the heat to kick on as it was so loud you couldn’t hear the suction noise the front door made when it closed.
At one of those sneak outs, I had I guy tell me we could use his dad’s hot tub. When we got to his dad’s apartment he filled the bath tub with hot water and said, “Voila! A hot tub.” No, he got no ass that night. 😉
I remember having a teacher at one of my high schools and the sluttier my friends and I would dress, the more he’d let us skip class and hang out in his office drinking his liquor and smoking stogies.
I remember another teacher who was a total perv, and I had him for 2 classes, so I skipped both of them for an entire year and right before summer break my vice principal called me into his office and asked where I’d gone for those 2 classes all year long. My response was, “Away from that pervert….” Yeah, I didn’t get in a bit of trouble. All was forgiven.
I fondly recall driving by hot guys’ houses and writing in chalk on the road in front of their houses things like “You’re hot.” God, what a doofus.
Once, I went to the Rock-n-Roll Revival (an awesome music show my HS put on) and doodled my love for a certain guy all over the show’s program while leaving comments (most of them flattering) next to all of the cast members’ names, then stupidly dropping it in the floor instead of the trash can so that EVERYFUCKINGONE could read it. I still feel bad about doodling that one girl had duck feet. She was so nice and I didn’t expect for anyone else to lay eyes on it.
I loved making mix tapes for boyfriends and misery tapes after the breakup. Kids nowadays have no idea how hard it is to skip through every radio station looking for THE song so you could get it on tape, just to miss the first 5 seconds. That wonderful stress of NEEDING that song but knowing the challenge you faced actually finding it for your tape.
I remember putting bologna slices all over a dickbag’s car because, well, he was a dickbag. Boy was he pissed (that was as bitchy as I ever got, and I know it wasn’t really nice). But seriously, he was such a dick, he had it comin’.
I recall when one of my best friends kicked the glass panel in the exit door by the Ertzman Theater and put her foot through it. Yep, their was blood.
I used to get such a thrill out of running away from Jack the Hall Monitor at my first high school and buying Ruby the Hall Monitor at my second HS some McDonalds so that she’d let me skip and not bust me.
I thoroughly enjoyed wearing bra tops and miniskirts with 4-inch heels to school ’cause, yeah, that’s appropriate.
I was terrified when a different vice principal at my second HS came and dragged me out of my 12th grade English class to “explain” the state of my locker to him. It was OUR locker, not my locker. But luckily for my locker-mates, they all just happened to not be in school that day, so I had to scrub the fucking thing clean with Ajax while wearing those 4-inch heels. Oh, and yes, I was MORTIFIED by the nasty shit written in that locker when the VP was standing next to me. We had drawn perversion all over it. It was awesome!
I longingly remember making out with sexy boys and not letting them get to 2nd base because I liked being a good girl (sometimes, not ALL the time!).
I loved going to OC (the beach at Ocean City) and not going to sleep until the sun came up and praying no one would smell the pot under the door of the hotel. I never had a desire to go to jail.
Walking a mile in deep snow to get to the High’s for an ice cream cone was awesome and well worth it.
I’d make visits to the Sandy Spring Bank, all dolled up and smelling pretty, to go flirt with an old flame.
And I’d eat at “The Deli” with my mom all the time. They had the best grilled provolone on Rye with tomato sandwiches and veggie soup I’ve ever had!
All of these things I loved so very much and I miss my hometown all the time.
To all of you who grew up around the same era as me, I hope you had as much fun as I did.
And much love to all of the wicked, naughty friends I had that contributed to my debauchery! I know I corrupted a few of you back, and damn was it fun! XOXOXOXO
Well, it had to start sometime.
I didn’t come out of the chute like this.
All this sassiness and naughtiness and perversion sprouted from somewhere.
Below is a glimpse into how it all began (there’s video too!).
When I was just a wee mite of a girl, just twenty one (and two days), I did my first interview as a host for a local TV show called Rock Live. I’d pop around all over Baltimore and DC interviewing bands, drooling over hot musicians, you know, typical girl stuff. 🙂
It was such a fun job and I met so many talented, amazing people. I also got chased all over DC by a car full of boys with bad intent while my producer was doing 100 mph trying desperately to find a cop who could help. Ultimately, it was a McDonald’s parking lot with a cop eating an ice cream cone that saved us. Whew!
But, I digress…
Most of the time, it was a blast. And this very first interview was, I think, the best. It was all so fresh and new and exciting.
Now, when I say “best” I don’t mean me. I SUCKED! Wow. I mean, wow. I was not a good interviewer yet. And my accent? Good lord. That is one U.G.L.Y. accent. I pronounced my own name wrong! How is that possible? My name is not spelled Jouudi. That’s what you get for growing up near Baltimore with a mom with a southern accent and a dad with a DC accent. A muddled nightmare! Luckily, I managed to murder that accent pretty quickly after hearing it for the first time on-air. Who wouldn’t? That shit was awful, as you will soon hear.
So, even though I may not have been the greatest interviewer (…and the award for Greatest Understatement goes to Jodi!), it was still an amazing night where I made some good friends. Plus, can we all say it together: Sexy boys rule! 😉 (No disrespect to the hubby as he is my ULTIMATE sexy boy!)
Date: June 7th, 1991
Location: The Rage, Baltimore City
The Band: Hung Jury
Enjoy (and feel free to make hideous fun of me…I can take it…really, I can…I swear…well…). 😉
Yeah, yeah, I know…weird topic, right? But I have an undying love of cereal. I’d eat cereal all dang day if the kind I like wasn’t filled with more sugar than a dozen cookies. Mmmm…cookies….
As I just recently found one of my all-time favorite cereals at the store and celebrated by doing a Happy Cereal Dance in the aisle (yes, people stared. No, it was not pretty!) I thought I’d share with you how cereal has affected my life.
- Boo Berry, Frankenberry and Count Chocula: What on earth could be better than these? When I was a little girl, my mom didn’t let us eat sweets and candy all the time, much to my sister’s and my chagrin. But for some wonderful reason she let us eat pure sugar cereal. Woo hoo! LOVED those three cereals. And while I usually hate putting more than a small splash of milk into my cereal, for these I would make an exception as the cereal-flavored milk was YUMMY!! Of course now Frankenberry and Boo Berry taste like cardboard vomit. I don’t know why they mess with perfection (except to save a buck here and there–cheap bastards) but I can’t eat either of them now as they taste so nasty. Count Chocula I can still eat, but it’s not as good as before. I think they use leftover cardboard from the cereal boxes in the actual cereal. Oh and they are so skimpy with the marshmallows now! I have to throw away half the box of cereal just to have the proper marshmallow to cereal ratio. WTF?? It’s simply a shame.
- Crunchberries: I do love me some Crunchberries. Remember when they were only red in color, not this rainbow of yumminess they currently are? The only thing that SUCKS about Crunchberries is that I’ve spent my entire life throwing away 3/4 of the box because I don’t want the Cap’n Crunch that goes along with the Crunchberries. I need at least a 2:1 ratio of Crunchberries to Cap’n Crunch. Essentially, 3 bowls of Crunchberries costs $5 because I throw out most of it. Absolutely ridiculous! So, imagine my sheer delight when I first discovered OOPS Berries. Crunchberries without the Cap’n. WOO HOO!!! It was like a dream come true–both taste bud dreams and wallet happiness dreams! I could eat Oops Berries til the cows came home. I bought 4 boxes and ate until I was sick. Ready to puke and stuck with a bluish-colored tongue, I still had to have more. So back to the store I went and they were GONE! SON OF A BITCH! Where are they??? Apparently, they were just a special. NOOOOOO!!!! See, it even says, “Limited time only” on the box. So, I took to the Internet and would buy them in bulk. 10 boxes to an order. I’d be so embarrassed about my Oops Berries addiction that I’d hide like 8 of the boxes in the closet so no one else would eat…OH, I mean, see them. Freudian slip there. 😉 Thank God I can now usually find this delicious box of yum at the Fry’s or at the Walmart. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have my Oops. Best damn cereal on earth. (This was the Happy Dance inducing cereal the other day.)
- Frootloops and Apple Jacks: Mmmmm…loved these then. Love these now. They are essentially the same cereal to me. I just snuck a single serving of Frootloops into the movie theater 2 weeks ago and crunched on it throughout the movie. I’m sure everyone within 10 feet of me wanted me dead. Crunch crunch crunch! As for Apple Jacks, well, my story is a bit naughtier. When I was a teenager my friends and I would sneak out all the time after curfew. ALL the time! It was awesome. Once Mom and the step-dad were asleep and either the A/C or heat kicked on (it made quite the racket) I’d quietly pry open the front door and off I’d be for many hours of illegal activities and whoring. KIDDING! The whoring didn’t start until much later. KIDDING AGAIN! Okay, we’ll just say that my adventures often involved pot, booze and making out, but I kept my pants on for the most part. Anyway, I digress…so one night my best friend and I decided to sneak out. We happened to be sitting on the front porch eating Apple Jacks when our friends pulled up to whisk us away. So, we stuffed the bowls of Apple Jacks into the mailbox and off we went. Well, those Apple Jacks saved us because we didn’t drag ass back home until about 8:00am and surprise, surprise right as we finished removing the bowls of soggy Apple Jacks from the mailbox my mom (who ALWAYS slept late, dammit!) opened the front door and asked us what in the Hell we were doing. Since I’m a quick thinker I said, “We’re just eating our cereal outside because it’s such a pretty day!” Mom totally fell for it!!! Had we not had bowls of cereal (because who would think we’d stashed cereal in the mailbox overnight?) my mom never would have bought that we had just come from inside the house. She’d have known we were just arriving home. I’d have been murdered. My mom did not put up with that shit and I’d have been killed in a less-than-pleasant way involving thumb tacks and a potato peeler! Apple Jacks saved my life!!!
Okay, I just realized that this is already a tome and I could seriously go on for about 8 more cereals. To save you eye strain, I shall not. I just wanted to share my cereal love with you and how my love affair with it saved my ass one time. My entire teenage years would have been so much more boring had my mom truly busted me. She’d have locked my bedroom door from the outside each night and I’d probably still be a virgin! Eeee Gawds, no!!! 🙂
Actually, I don’t like fruitcake. I do like banana nut bread though. Mmmmm…banana nut bread. Now I want some. I do think I’m going to make some funnel cakes this weekend. Talk about yummy and SO healthy!! 😉 Lord, my ass grew 3 inches just thinking about funnel cake. 🙂
Since a bunch of you have asked where I ran off to last week and why I haven’t been around its because the hubby and I went to visit his family last week in Minnesota. The weather was AWESOME! Nice and cool and cloudy and the trees were so colorful. It was just beautiful. Why someone like me, who hates heat and the awful torturer known as the sun, lives in AZ is beyond me. I’m not bright, I guess.
Okay, so for my rambling thoughts (and they are rambles, let me warn you!! As a matter of fact, no one should even read this. Run from your computer now!!!).
- People who are dickfaces can suck it. How’s that as a start? 😉 I say this because in the last couple of weeks I ran up against a dickface. (Ooohhh, that sounds dirty…) I try to never surround myself with such people because my normally agreeable, fairly sweet self gets stuffed into a jar and the “Don’t fuck with me or I’ll cut you” side of me comes bubbling out. For example, back when I used to party in Scottsdale some of the funnest times I had were slowly disassembling cocky assholes at bars until they were fetal and crying for mommy. I just can’t take it when a guy comes up and essentially says, “I’m the shit (ummmm…no). I’m hot (they rarely are). I’m rich (they never are). I’m drive a fancy car (leased and paid for by them and their 9 roommates). I only like girls with fake tits (mine are real, douchebag). I don’t like girls with opinions (as that means you have to actually think to have a proper conversation). I’ll buy you a drink, but expect head as a thank you (on this they are never kidding). Everyone loves me–I know you do too (not in your wildest dreams, mo fo).” While I’m sure a better person than me would just blow them off, every one and I while I get a little hot in the blood and have to verbally throw down until my opponent is decimated. I know this makes me a bad person (it doesn’t happen that often!) but I just cannot suffer fools and people who behave like that just fuel my fire. I know there is the female equivalent to my bar guy, so gentlemen don’t think I don’t understand that chicks can be just as annoying. 🙂
- If you are not happy with your life, change it. I know this is WAY easier said than done. I know there is no magic wand that we can just wave and BING! we’re rich, happy, healthy and built like a brick shit house. But there are things one can do to make life a little happier. All this constant sulking and blaming and whining and blah blah blah is so pointless. Don’t get me wrong. I occasionally sulk and whine. Everyone gets to do that every once and a while. But to just live life like that is a waste. First step to a happier life? Cut the people who make you want to kill things out of your life. If you can’t stand them or they make you unhappy, choose to not be around them. If they don’t like that, tough shit. They need to be nicer or then can go screw.
- I need a ranch. Yep. One of these days, I’m going to have a ranch with chickens and goats. I want the little pygmy goats that are black and white and look like cow-goats. Then they’ll also look like my Moopy kitty. I’ll have a Moopy Cat and Moopy Goats. Ahhh…sounds like heaven.
- While I love traveling in first class, there shouldn’t be one. I got Grant and myself an upgrade on the way to Minnesota and it was HEAVEN!!! You can see how much we enjoyed it by the pic. Even the teddies were in heaven. Yes, we travel with teddies. But I digress. If they could just give everyone a speck more room and treat everyone with a little more dignity, then we could ALL be happier on a plane. I understand they can’t give out free food and drinks to a plane full of people. They’d go bankrupt. But if we could just get a little more space and not (in most, but not all, cases) be treated like a chore, then those sitting in coach may not want to burn down all of first class.
- I miss my furries when I’m away from them. I guess this is how people with kids must feel when they are away from the kiddos for an extended period of time. I wanted my little kitties in my lap while I was out of town. I missed their stupid retardedness so much. I love me a FuzzyButt and Moopers. 🙂
- I”m never happier than when I’m at a zoo with my honeypie.🙂 That one kinda speaks for itself.
- I’m going to be a photographer at a wedding in 2 weeks. Woo Hoo! I’m terrified that I’ll fuck it all up, but deep down I know I won’t. I usually take pretty darn good pictures, so hopefully I won’t go blind between now and then. A friend of mine has been with her guy for 17 years (and she’s only like 35!) and they are finally tying the knot. Can you see why I’d be scared to death to have that responsibility? But I figure if I take 2000 pics, I can find at least 10 that’ll be presentable. Keep your fingers crossed, please!! 🙂
- Quartz countertops stain. DON’T BELIEVE ANYONE WHO TELLS YOU THEY DON’T!!! Liars!!! We just redid our kitchen and when deciding on a countertop I told the lady that we needed something that wouldn’t stain. I was willing to get a super-dark counter (even though the white is so pretty and clean looking) if it meant that it would be worry free. The LIAR told me that I could let coffee and red wine sit on the white quartz for 2 years and it wouldn’t stain. Ummmm…NOT TRUE! My brand new, expensive countertop SUCKS. The countertop inspector guy is coming over in an hour to look at it. I can only hope he can figure something out because if I have to sue Home Depot, I will.
- I have THE best Mommy ever!The more I hear people’s stories, and see first hand, what other people have had to deal with when they have moms that aren’t so sweet and loving, I appreciate my mommy more and more. I’m pretty sure my mom has never said an unkind word to me in my entire life. My mom is a sweet little Southern Baptist and when I was in my teens I dressed like a street whore and listened to AC/DC. She never once made me feel judged or unloved. Ultimately, I was a pretty good girl. Yeah, I drank my share and may have puffed off of a few things that burned, but I was always a nice kid and never got into really bad things. I mean, I never went to school, but I ended up pretty well in terms of education. Through all of this, my mom never criticized me. Don’t get me wrong, she was tough. We couldn’t cuss (can you IMAGINE????). We had ridiculously early curfews and got severely grounded if we were late. She didn’t put up with any backtalk or any bullshit, but she understood that we were individuals, so she let us fly high our freak flags. 🙂 God bless a good mommy.
Okay, I’ve got to go get ready for the kitchen inspector. If you actually stayed the course and read this tome, bless your heart. I was just having Random Thought Friday and thought I’d share. 🙂 Have a great weekend, everyone! 🙂 XOXO
PS: I know “countertop” is two words, but it should be one word, so I took a stand! 😉