Since my transformation I haven't really looked back. I'm doing just fine. I feel confident and attractive 85% of the time (when I'm not PMSing the other 15%). I support myself, have a college degree and a Boyfriend who is undeniably cool and I have a fantastic head of hair that is no longer reminiscent of Elphaba or Hermione circa HP and the Sorcerer's Stone. So imagine my surprise when a Facebook notification popped up to tell me that the girl who was my mortal enemy in elementary school, who then grew up to become my most archiest of rivals in high school just got married and the sight of her happy, glowing face in her figure flattering dress kissing her Matthew McConaughey look-alike husband brought back a flood of dreadful feelings and made me feel like the sniveling over sized, underweight, four-eyed kid again.
This girl, who I'll call Regina George, terrorized me in early elementary school. She and her lackey, who I'll call Gretchen Wieners really inflicted some life-changing misery into my early childhood years that left me dazed and more than a little confused as to why I feared them so much. Regina George once said or did something so heinous that it caused me to respond by jumping on top of a desk and then run away scream-crying from my 1st grade classroom and seek refuge in the bathroom only to be coaxed out by my own teacher who had abandoned the class to attempt my rescue. They later laughed and teased me about that spastic little episode well into the 2nd grade school year.
They were popular and they looked like Stephanie Tanner from Full House and I looked like a hairier Winnie Cooper from The Wonder Years.
Later, we grew up and went to different middle schools and different high schools. I went t
o the agricultural magnet high school out in the country (I did not participate in the ag program mostly because I'm afraid of chickens and turkeys) and they went to the rich kid school in the same district and we played each other in volleyball. Gretchen Wieners was the Setter and Regina George was the Outside Hitter and they spent our matches completely owning me on the court and beat our team every game. I'm pretty sure Regina George went to college on a volleyball scholarship and I have no idea about Gretchen Wieners but I'm sure she was given some sort of Mean Old Bitch Grant from the state.
Also, Regina George drove a brand new ice blue convertible BMW that I loved while I putted around in a teal Pontiac Grand Prix... from 1994...
Luckily, since we attended different high schools, I didn't have to worry about their reign of terror on a daily basis, but every once in awhile our paths would cross and my blood would run cold with fear and the envy over their perfectly blessed lives would rage inside me like a massive heart attack. The summer of my junior year I went on a Young Life trip to a summer camp with other kids from my school where I had to ride for 14 hours on a bus to arrive at the camp. All of the high schools in our district offered these trips but at different times throughout the summer. Naturally, our two high schools were paired up to send kids to the camp at the same time and when I discovered that the buses were not segregated by high schools I had a mild panic attack. I had already boarded my bus and was sitting quietly listening to the latest N'Sync CD and reading Wuthering Heights for the fifth time waiting patiently for our bus to start up when I noticed a tall, willowy blond in expensive designer cut off jean shorts board the bus. I didn't think too much of her until I spotted a shorter more athletic blond wearing the newest Abercrombie&Fitch shirt that I knew cost $65 because I had asked my mom if I could buy it and she laughed at me for about three minutes, board right behind her. I could recognize that pair anywhere. At this point, I sank lower in my seat and feigned complete concentration on the doings of Catherine and Heathcliff while internally strategizing my exit plan.
"Maybe I can just stay here. Maybe no one will notice me... for 14 hours..."
"Well, what are you going to do when you have to get up to go to the bathroom which is in the back of the bus and you are currently sitting at the front of the bus because that's where nerds always sit?"
"I just won't go. I can hold it."
"Idiot."
I knew what I had to do. I calmly began gathering my things and silently prayed that I could pull this maneuver off without causing too much of a scene because if I did, I pictured a busload of cool high school kids laughing their asses off and pointing at me through the windows. I hitched up my backpack (during this particular year, it was cool to wear your backpack across both shoulders versus the old one-shoulder-sling-low way of the early 90s) and I confidently exited the bus. I was only stopped by one chaperone who knew me and knew that I was a "good kid" so he didn't question me to see if I was trying to run away, gather weapons or bring alcohol aboard. I was able to safely board the other bus and find a seat in the middle where I could be on neutral ground in case any neanderthal fights broke out in the back or any Star: Trek vs. Wars debates broke out in the front. I should have been happy but truthfully, I felt like Kevin McAllister in Home Alone when he realizes after running away from the scary old man and hiding under his parent's bed that he is a wimp. I was a Class A: wimp. And so began the summer of my transformation.
I have never seen Regina George or Gretchen Wieners since that summer trip but through the wonder of Facebook I can keep up with them and know how their lives have turned out. I probably get way too much satisfaction out of seeing my former classmates who were so popular and never gave me the time of day now married or, unmarried for that matter, with three kids, still working in the same Chili's they were working at in high school never having left the town. Also, they are usually pretty fat. If you were in any way uncool at any point in your childhood and have turned out to be pretty hot, you probably get the same satisfaction.
Although the aforementioned is the typical profile for a High School Flame Out, there are those that continue to thrive, like Regina George and Gretchen Wieners. These are the people that they are talking about when they tell you, "buck up kid, no matter how good you are, there's always somebody better." Which makes me wonder, did Regina and Gretchen have their own nemeses to contend with throughout the years? If so, do they occasionally stalk them on Facebook only to discover that nothing has changed and they are still inadequate compared to their rivals? I look at my life and feel so good about it most of the time; until I see someone who I perceive to be doing a better job at having a life than me. Maybe we need this though. Maybe it's the universe's way of keeping everyone in check; making sure nobody gets too big headed or content with what they have and unwilling to strive for something better. I also wonder if I met Regina and Gretchen now, would they accept me as an equal and would we be friends?
Eh, probably not. A Mean Old Bitch is always a mean old bitch and I'm fine with that.
o the agricultural magnet high school out in the country (I did not participate in the ag program mostly because I'm afraid of chickens and turkeys) and they went to the rich kid school in the same district and we played each other in volleyball. Gretchen Wieners was the Setter and Regina George was the Outside Hitter and they spent our matches completely owning me on the court and beat our team every game. I'm pretty sure Regina George went to college on a volleyball scholarship and I have no idea about Gretchen Wieners but I'm sure she was given some sort of Mean Old Bitch Grant from the state. 
Also, Regina George drove a brand new ice blue convertible BMW that I loved while I putted around in a teal Pontiac Grand Prix... from 1994... 
Luckily, since we attended different high schools, I didn't have to worry about their reign of terror on a daily basis, but every once in awhile our paths would cross and my blood would run cold with fear and the envy over their perfectly blessed lives would rage inside me like a massive heart attack. The summer of my junior year I went on a Young Life trip to a summer camp with other kids from my school where I had to ride for 14 hours on a bus to arrive at the camp. All of the high schools in our district offered these trips but at different times throughout the summer. Naturally, our two high schools were paired up to send kids to the camp at the same time and when I discovered that the buses were not segregated by high schools I had a mild panic attack. I had already boarded my bus and was sitting quietly listening to the latest N'Sync CD and reading Wuthering Heights for the fifth time waiting patiently for our bus to start up when I noticed a tall, willowy blond in expensive designer cut off jean shorts board the bus. I didn't think too much of her until I spotted a shorter more athletic blond wearing the newest Abercrombie&Fitch shirt that I knew cost $65 because I had asked my mom if I could buy it and she laughed at me for about three minutes, board right behind her. I could recognize that pair anywhere. At this point, I sank lower in my seat and feigned complete concentration on the doings of Catherine and Heathcliff while internally strategizing my exit plan.
"Maybe I can just stay here. Maybe no one will notice me... for 14 hours..."
"Well, what are you going to do when you have to get up to go to the bathroom which is in the back of the bus and you are currently sitting at the front of the bus because that's where nerds always sit?"
"I just won't go. I can hold it."
"Idiot."
I knew what I had to do. I calmly began gathering my things and silently prayed that I could pull this maneuver off without causing too much of a scene because if I did, I pictured a busload of cool high school kids laughing their asses off and pointing at me through the windows. I hitched up my backpack (during this particular year, it was cool to wear your backpack across both shoulders versus the old one-shoulder-sling-low way of the early 90s) and I confidently exited the bus. I was only stopped by one chaperone who knew me and knew that I was a "good kid" so he didn't question me to see if I was trying to run away, gather weapons or bring alcohol aboard. I was able to safely board the other bus and find a seat in the middle where I could be on neutral ground in case any neanderthal fights broke out in the back or any Star: Trek vs. Wars debates broke out in the front. I should have been happy but truthfully, I felt like Kevin McAllister in Home Alone when he realizes after running away from the scary old man and hiding under his parent's bed that he is a wimp. I was a Class A: wimp. And so began the summer of my transformation.
I have never seen Regina George or Gretchen Wieners since that summer trip but through the wonder of Facebook I can keep up with them and know how their lives have turned out. I probably get way too much satisfaction out of seeing my former classmates who were so popular and never gave me the time of day now married or, unmarried for that matter, with three kids, still working in the same Chili's they were working at in high school never having left the town. Also, they are usually pretty fat. If you were in any way uncool at any point in your childhood and have turned out to be pretty hot, you probably get the same satisfaction.
Although the aforementioned is the typical profile for a High School Flame Out, there are those that continue to thrive, like Regina George and Gretchen Wieners. These are the people that they are talking about when they tell you, "buck up kid, no matter how good you are, there's always somebody better." Which makes me wonder, did Regina and Gretchen have their own nemeses to contend with throughout the years? If so, do they occasionally stalk them on Facebook only to discover that nothing has changed and they are still inadequate compared to their rivals? I look at my life and feel so good about it most of the time; until I see someone who I perceive to be doing a better job at having a life than me. Maybe we need this though. Maybe it's the universe's way of keeping everyone in check; making sure nobody gets too big headed or content with what they have and unwilling to strive for something better. I also wonder if I met Regina and Gretchen now, would they accept me as an equal and would we be friends?
Eh, probably not. A Mean Old Bitch is always a mean old bitch and I'm fine with that.
