18 Sunday Oct 2009
Posted in humor, teenage years
Welcome back to the third edition of Self-Deprecating Sunday, where young adult authors come to celebrate their young adulthood. Today I showcase my eighth grade year when I was cheerleader. You gotta appreciate the socks and shoes coordination. I’d bet my fingernails were painted orange and blue, too. Wait…is that the school fight song coming back to me? I think it is…
Guion jaguars, Guion jaguars
Win for orange and blue
Go fight, you Guion jaguars!
Weeeeeeeeeeee’re for yoooouuuuuu.
11 Sunday Oct 2009
Posted in humor, teenage years
If you missed the first installment of Self-Deprecating Sunday, then you need to start with this lovely post where I explain that I was basically pretty wackadoo in high school. It’s possibly not surprising I love to write for teens?
Today I feature what I think is my junior year. Yes, when I was seventeen I carried around a Mickey Mouse lunch box. Except, it was NOT my lunch box, no no. It was my purse. That’s right. I was *that* cool. Wait until you see my graduation photo. The Mickey Mouse thing…I don’t know…and I was still going through well into college.
And seriously, tube socks????? TUBE SOCKS!
04 Sunday Oct 2009
Posted in teenage years
I didn’t mention this new feature in my last blog post because I just decided to do this after a telephone conversation with my sister. It started so simply with me asking if she had any photos of me in my ROTC uniform. (She did. Those will come later.) But while rummaging around for those, she found all kinds of other photographic goodies–and by goodies I mean I was a some crazy kind of eye-candy in my teenage years. Candy isn’t the right descriptor. The thing is, I didn’t belong to a group. I sampled nearly all groups. I was at one time or another each of the following: cheerleader, softball player, marching band geek, jazz band geek, ROTC nerd, Jesus freak, theater junkie, student council representative, Cinefile, and to top off all these things I had a bizarre fixation with Mickey Mouse/Disney World that exploded all over my clothing. Oh, and I should mention that my dad taught at my junior high school; he was my social studies teacher and the football/basketball coach. You can imagine the photo humiliation I can impose on myself. And I shall…
I start this self-deprecating Sunday off simply: a photo of the weekend version of myself, when I let my 1991 hair wall down to have a day at Kings Island with my friends and family. What you can’t see are the fluorescent orange Converse All Stars. But the glasses alone are humiliating enough. I bask.
Every aspiring YA author should showcase her teenage years, no?
UPDATE: I am submitting this post as part of a contest over on the Anne and May Blog in which they are asking for humiliating photos and stories from High School. Check out their new book, A Little Help From My Friends. (October 11)
