Shit You Should Know

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Nothing Like A Slice of Nostalgia Pie

We were reminiscing like we do, Rosita and I, talking about old friends and good times. We perused through the topics one by one. Those things all tied back in some sort of way to one room.

Room 501…just up the stairs

It was the room where we focused on theater arts instead of social drama. It was the only class where you left your high school status at the door. No one was the outcast…everyone was the star. It was a hodgepodge of students from nearly every group of the school, like a sociology experiment. There was a dose of football players, a hit of stoners, a few metal heads, a couple of honor rollers, some preppies, a share of trekkies, etc, etc. Some of us were there for a fairly easy grade but most were there because we were drawn to the stage whether we admitted it or not. More often than not, the drama class itself came secondary to the laughter and the friends we made there.

As I said, we reminisced. We laughed like we do about times we had…hanging out in the drama “closet” which was a small office that had been turned into a storage room for costumes and props. If those costumes could talk, they’d have some pretty R-rated tales to tell you. I used to think those tales belonged solely to my husband and I but I discovered that we weren’t the only ones making out on the prop sofa from time to time. Good thing I constantly sprayed that thing with Lysol when I cleaned up in there. Who knows what kind of high school cooties that thing would have been harboring? Does Lysol kill gonorrherpesyphilydia?
We reminisced about the star football player that ended up in our class…no doubt for an easy pass suggested by the coach. My friend declared him gorgeous. I agreed. He was pretty good looking. She said she ran into him recently. She referred to him as “man meat”. I was nearly in tears laughing. Then, she told me something that surprised me…flattered me. Mr. High School Stereo-type not only asked about me but proceeded to tell her how sexy he thought I was. Of course, he didn’t remember my name…he asked her about “that other white girl” as if her and I were the only white girls in the class.
She and I laughed because apparently we were the only white girls that mattered. Yeah, we were pretty awesome.

We reminisced about how people used to be and how many change so much after high school. She started telling me about the ten year reunion that I skipped and about one person in particular showing up with body guards not because she was attending a New Orleans event but because apparently that shit is required when you are on the BET show, 106 & Park. It’s sort of a big deal…I suppose even though I had to google it because I had no idea what or who Rosita was talking about.
And yes, it required digging out a yearbook because I didn’t recognize the woman at all. All I can say is I will spare all of you the year book photo (I’m sure Raquel…or Rocsi…or whatever she is going by now days will appreciate it as well) and I'll just say good for her. Her stylists are doing an amazing job.

Rosita told a tale of phoniness, not necessarily of our ugly duckling classmate (and I use that description out of awe…not insult). People are flat out fake when it comes to money, power, and celebrities and our average old school chums are no different. But it’s just silly when people trip over themselves when a star is near…especially something so low on the totem pole as a reality star.

Let’s face it. Reality television is taking over the televisions sets (and intelligence) of this country and these so-called “stars” are a dime a dozen. Pretty soon, there will be a reality show about a reality show. Can you imagine? Camera crews following camera crews…boom mics everywhere.

I can’t say from experience that I’d never be star struck. Of course, I’ve never ran into George Clooney or Brad Pitt. I can assume though if I ever ran into a Snooki, I’d head in the other direction.
So it seems, the tale of the high school ugly duckling (aka just your average teenage girl minus the stylist a la’ She’s All That movie montage) turned reality star hottie, I’m sure, is becoming an epidemic among high school reunions nationwide.

Even this topic about a girl not even in our drama class went back to Room 501. Rosita laughed as I gave my reasons for skipping the reunion…about how I have no interest in seeing people that I had no interest of seeing then. Maybe that makes me snotty. Maybe it does. I explained that there were roughly a dozen or so people I’d be interesting in catching up with and they were in that room at one time or another. One of which has started her own blog. Most people that mattered at all to me, I have regained some form of contact with all thanks to Facebook. Of course, there are some I could have done without.

Room 501 was like a teenage Las Vegas in a sense that what was said there, stayed there. The teacher was amazing.
She was the sort of adult that every teenager needs in their life. You were able to confide in her and she would give you a mature, sometimes motherly opinion without being judgmental. Each tidbit of advice was given with a side of understanding that made you feel confident in yourself that you were capable of making the right decision on your own. She was the only adult that ever made me feel that way other than my older cousin who was 30ish at the time.

That room was a haven…a sanctuary. I had never felt so safe, accepted, or understood. I felt free to be myself…even though I had no idea exactly who I was just yet. Room 501 assisted me in finding the Asha that I’ve become.

So, I never shagged the star football player or made it anywhere other than home video but I have found the adult version of Room 501 right here in my simple, little life. You know what? That makes me happy and no matter how much Rosita and I reminisce there isn’t a damn thing I’d change.


  1. Great look back! the blogging world is like your room 501 - I love being a part of it and sharing with such a diverse range of people!

    Just stopped by from the Wednesday blog hop. I’m following you now and hope you’ll stop by my blog sometime too! Have a lovely week.
    Jill @ Creating my way to Success

  2. Of course I loved this one :) Mrs. B was the best...She's the reason I took Drama...Who knew I would love it?...I skipped the reunion too for the exact reasons you did...So, we can be snotty together...and hearing that Raquel actually took security...I'm so glad I did...You know, that girl stole my purse in 4th grade...Oh, I mean she said she found it 'empty' for me after I told the teacher it was missing...Hell, I should have had security in 4th grade

  3. i'm your newest follower...
    visit me if you'd like:

  4. Oh, room five-o-one! I see. I went to room 101 by mistake. They put a rat cage on my head. I had a...different experience there.

    As far as reality shows, especially the trashy ones, I really don't get them at all. Even just as a voyeuristic appeal of watching human train wrecks, it's just plain boring. If you've seen one snotty bitch whine to a camera, you've seen them all.

  5. Wow.

    Your pictures and tales of the Closet could so easily be MY tales and pictures of Theatre Arts and our Closet. (Except the making out and other things took place in the storage room above the closet because it was more private and if someone opened the door downstairs there was time to separate upstairs.)

    And my Theater teacher was my favorite teacher from middle school through my graduation. She wrote my letter of recommendation for colleges, coached my extra curricular activities, and was a very good friend to me.

    The bond is special between a Theater teacher and her students.

  6. @Jill You're right. The blogosphere is very diverse.
    @Katie I knew you'd feel me on this one. ;) As for Raquel, you should write a letter and ask for Maybe BET will cut you a check.
    @Mina Um...ok...thanks for reading?
    @Bryan Yeah. I should have warned you. Room 101 was where they filmed one of the SAW movies. Sorry about that.
    @Chanel That's true. She was great.

  7. Actually...I'd pay money to trip Snookie and watch her bounce across a floor like she's on a dry slip and slide. Bitch! Ooops...did I actually say that out loud? filter must be lost again.

    Well, anyway. Reading this is about like what I would have written (except different room, different teacher, different school...blah). I went to the 5 yr reunion just because I happened to be home at the time. It was in a shit hole someone tried to say was a bar, and everyone that showed was pretty much as stupid as they were 5 yrs before. The 10 year they tried to go upscale. I was living in Vegas and they not only expected that I would fly back for it, but they wanted me to pay them to attend.! The 20 year I dodged emails and said I never got was in a bar again.

    I don't miss them, and, like you said, the ones I would like to get in touch with FB has fixed for me.

  8. Throwing out the white girl was just fucking funny.

  9. @Jewell I'm sure you aren't the only one who'd pay to inflict pain on a Snooki. See? You have a "list" too.
    @Scott Please clean up the white girls before I stop by to reserve room 501, ok?

  10. lmao - busted! However the downfall of my "list" definitely wouldn't come from a mere cold! Shows like "Unsolved Mysteries" and "Cold Case Files" were created around my list! =)

  11. You didn't shag him even once? High school was a total waste, then.

    I must admit, I, too, never banged the star football player. Or any football player. And yet, I do not feel the lack.

  12. @Jewell Wow! I just knew you were hardcore!
    @Doug Apparently, Mr. Football was used to girls throwing themselves at him. I preferred to be chased. I can guarentee that's why no shagging ever occured.
    None of the footbal players?? The towel boy maybe...or did you maybe prefer the baseball team? j/k

  13. The chess club guys were kind of hot, but nothing ever happened. That is my story.

  14. hmm,, Nice PosTing.. the PicTure So Nice.. Love It..


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