Stuck in the mud

I think I know what my problem is: maturity.

Several summers ago, I hosted a small bonfire. We roasted marshmallows and created our own ice cream sundaes to top it off. After awhile, my guests got bored just staring at the fire (I was quite content, I might add). They decided to play non-alcoholic Dizzy Bat, using a croquet mallet instead of a bat. They formed teams and spun around, then raced (or tried to, rather) to the waiting teammate. I looked on. It looked stupid to me. The idea of spinning around after consuming a giant bowl of ice cream did not appeal to me. I let them laugh. I let them have their fun. I looked on.

I think they could tell I wasn’t keen with the goings on. But here’s the problem: I really can’t help it. Something in me is programmed to dislike childlike behavior. I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember.

Teammates at a cross country meet were throwing acorns at each other and laughing like maniacs. I felt embarrassed to be associated with them.

My junior and senior years, I never rode the bus home from track and/or cross country meets. Looking back now, I found myself wondering why I hadn’t. I missed out on a lot (if you count going to Burger King and wearing the paper crowns as a lot which, when with the right people, I do). It comes down to my maturity problem. Kids on the bus drove me insane with their ear-shattering cacophony on the way to the meet that I rarely desired to spend more time with them.

My maturity is a blessing in the eyes of the adults in my life, and a curse in the eyes of fellow teenagers. I am probably known as a stick in the mud; a fun sucker. I hear tales of drunken high schoolers. People laugh as they tell me about the wild parties going on and who kissed whom or who shed every article of clothing possible. I don’t laugh. I feel sad or disappointed, depending on the party of people involved.

Get some alcohol in me, and I can let go. But if I’m sober in a room full of drunk people, I’m not a happy camper. I can’t be sober and think a drunk person is funny at the same time. I can’t be sober and hear about who-did-what-with-who and not feel a little sick. The idea of drinking casually is more tempting than drinking just to get drunk (especially since the shit tastes vile, anyway).

So many times, I’ve asked myself this question: why didn’t I socialize and hang out more with people in my own grade during senior year?

The answer is Robby. He can be silly at times, but when it comes right down to it, he is the most mature young man I know. Any adult who knows him would agree with me. He’s a nice boy. He’s not the typical, just-wanna-get-in-your-pants 17-year-old. He’s a genuine, sweet and caring guy who proved himself to be mature right from the start of our courtship on February 21, 2010. We have always been inseparable until, of course, college forcibly drove us apart. My infantile peers just couldn’t match up to him. I didn’t want them to. Robby and I are 17 and 18 going on 30, respectively.

The people in my life like Katie, Robby, Kevin, Mama, Tayler, Caitlin, Sarah and Tori really know how to draw the silliness out of me. Everyone else in the world will just have to deal with the me who is stuck in the mud.

A DJ, a gym and some glow sticks

At 7:o0 yesterday morning, “Into The Ocean” by Blue October started bursting out of the speakers on my triangular iHome. I continually hit the “snooze” button until I could do so no longer. I gave up at 7:30 and dragged my sorry butt out of bed to face what would turn into an extremely long day.

This weekend was Homecoming weekend. The problem was, I hadn’t given Homecoming a single thought because I had a huge obstacle to get through first. Conveniently, we had a cross-country meet in the freezing cold wind and mud. And, my race was to be the last race of the day. We left at 8:30 in order to get there by 10:00, and I didn’t run until 2:30. All of this equals one long and cold day.

I ran well, and yes, hanging out with the team is always fun. I finally met the guy that has been taking pictures at meets (in which I sometimes appeared) for years, and coincidentally he is also one of my employers. I got to snuggle with five of my teammates to build up the warmth we so desperately sought and got to experience one crazy bus ride.

After my race, we [my family] left immediately. After a few stops along the way, we finally got home at 5:00, and my boyfriend was to be at the house at 6:30 to get some pictures taken beforehand.

The dance was fun. My only complaint was the complete lack of slow songs. He (one of my brother’s friends who played the DJ) must have wanted to keep up with the “rave” theme Student Council had whipped up, but he only played three slow songs and I, along with many others, was disappointed. The entire gym smelled like bare feet and glow stick fluid because people kept breaking open the complimentary glow sticks everyone wore around their necks. A friend of mine actually got squirted in the eye with one at the very beginning of the dance, and she commented that it was very painful.

Afterward, we headed up to a friend’s house to attempt an all-nighter. Everyone but my boyfriend, my friend and me fell asleep. At five o’clock, we decided to get back in the hot tub and didn’t end up surfacing from it until seven. And yes, we got very prune-y.

It was a fun night. I was happy that my boyfriend and I matched perfectly and it’s always a treat to see classmates all dolled up instead of just sauntering around in their pajamas or jeans during the average school day.



I have now been to a beach

For the past few years, I have been complaining about how I have never been to the beach. Friends have promised to take me, but, alas, their promises were not kept. I remained a beach virgin. Until today.

We had a cross-country meet today at a State Park near the lake. I swore that I would go swimming in the Lake after my race, and I did. We finished the girls Varsity race (third place for me…we went against an awesome team) and my two friends and I headed down to the lake. We did not end up swimming. We touched the water, took a few pictures, then fled to watch the “men” in their race. (THEY WON!)

After their race, my brother wanted to go swimming. My friend Ashley and I were all for it, and we began walking back towards the lake with the new guy. Soon we were joined by half of the boy’s team, and we ran to the beach. I took off my warm-up pants (my best friend’s PJs, hehe – I borrowed them from him and never gave them back), and ran to the shore. Yeah, it was cold, and today wasn’t the hottest September day we’ve had. I looked behind me and saw half of the boy’s team running towards me in just their spandex. Haha, hello!

We all ran into the water, and jumped over the waves as they came. New guy even joined in and wore his boxers (he didn’t run today – not enough practices). Soon, Ashley and I realized that our shorts were see-through, so we waded deeper and deeper into the water in an attempt to hide ourselves.

It was the most fun I have ever had at a cross-country meet (and I have been to quite a few in my lifetime). Cute guys in spandex in freezing water with waves that reached my shoulders…yeah, FUN! I will probably be sick tomorrow, and if I am, I will just remember how much laughter our little adventure brought me. Today was a day I will not soon forget.