In the past weeks I have read Prep: A Novel by Curtis Sittenfeld and Smashed: Story of a Drunken Girlhood by Koren Zailckas. Both books were good and though strangely depressing I would recommend them both. Last night I was discussing Prep in book club and was able to look back on my high school years, for perhaps the first time, with only minimal resentment. WHEN did this start happening? Next, will I start saying they were the best years of my life? (They so were not.) I recall them as the awkward prelude to my current nerdy present. My most confident moments spent hiding in alcove in the rear of the theatre running the around board or running up to the light booth to spend time with my other technically inclined, nerdy friends. (Sorry, Cincy and Mara for outing you as the nerds you are, or at least were.)

Here are the memories I can look back at with only laughter now, because GOOD GOD was I naïve:

  • When a girl throws herself down the stairs for a rumored pregnancy, then goes to a new high school because her dad got transferred at work and then comes back to school the next year because her dad got transferred back, she was likely PREGNANT. Duh. And why didn’t I realize this until years later when Kirsten had to EXPLAIN it to me.
  • When during freshman year girls run into school up to their friends yelling, “I did it! I did it!” they are indeed referring to sex. Yes, sex. Just because you won’t kiss a boy for many more years does not mean that other girls aren’t getting some. Get a clue.
  • When one of your best memories from high school is pranking your friend by plastering her locker in New Kids on the Block and NKOTB pictures from TigerBeat, it’s a good sign that you are not popular or cool, something that you might not realize for many more years.
  • “Trigger,” the 1985 Honda hatchback you drove in high school was indeed awesome with its inoperable heat and vents that sucked in everything from air to cigarette butts and twigs. When you pulled into school on the first day of senior year and parked between a BMW and a Mazda Miada, it was proof that the other girls had more money than you, NOT that they were jealous their cars weren’t as sweet as yours.
This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.