I have tried really hard to chronicle my migration to the desert. But, every time I started to write about one or another aspect of my move, the blogs were depressing me, and if they were depressing me I can only imagine how fast the reader would run away from them.
Other than to say I will try to add a little humor to my plight, and I will try, this is proving to be a real test of my theories of life becoming smaller. You will begin to read about my attempts to adjust to life in a lovely gate guarded golf community, poor me, but for now I have found my first little touch of levity here in paradise! The mean girls……
My husband and I went to the pool/physical therapy unit the other morning and I overheard a conversation going on in the pool, something about, sleeping with a bar of soap in your bed to cure leg cramps. Well, I said to myself that sounds promising considering my husband has moaned about those from time to time. I’ve always chalked his complaints up to too much exercise, as I choose to believe that too much exercise, can cause all kinds of physical problems. Setting up my defense for no exercise at all.
Anyway, back to Lindsay Lohan and company. I jumped into the pool and swam over to ask about this miracle cure, which by the way works, and they gave me the info. Any soap but Dove, do not wet, place it anywhere in the bed and presto leg cramps gone. Something to do with sodium I think, try it. We had a brief conversation and they went back to their little circle, I really did not think about it until later in the day and when I realized it was just like high school.
Were any of you ever the new girl in high school? I went through that five times. I attended five high schools in four years and aside from the obvious curriculum problems I was the new girl five times. I will give some thought to naming the schools, if I can make someone out there feel bad about ignoring me back in 1958. The worst of the relocations would be when my family moved from Los Angeles to Westchester County, New York and for the first month none of the girls would speak to me. I chose to believe it was because in those days California seemed a bit exotic to Easterners or that I was such a beauty that they were jealous. In reality maybe they just didn’t like me or I was a bit standoffish, However, what ever the reason I walked to school every morning with two delightful twin boys, Alan and Howie Feuer, to this day I still remember their names. That’s a miracle because I am beginning to forget the names of my close friends.
After the longest month of my life the girls began to accept me and all was good until I moved again 18 months later. But, that feeling swept back over me the other day at the pool. It was as if I was fifteen all over again, clutching my books to my chest and scurrying along the halls with my head down. I marvel at how a feeling can come right back, as though it were yesterday. A very wise person once explained to me that our feelings are similar to a bunch of grapes and if you touch one they all start to jiggle.
Maybe I have been lucky, or oblivious, but this is the first time I’ve had that feeling in forever, so my question would be, do we revert back to adolescence as we age? And while I am asking, how does one handle the mean girls? Any suggestions, do I just go back and try again or go to the other clubhouse and start from scratch?
In writing this blog I decided to look up each of my high schools and discovered, much to my amazement that all but one are still standing in their original incarnation. Scary considering they were old when I was young so I think I will use those pictures in another blog about my colorful high school years and I will name names!