This blog is a collection of a young woman's random thoughts, many tangents, and occasional
short stories and novel excerpts. Stay tuned for plenty of bull and brief moments of brilliance.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Childhood Memories, The Happy Ones

I took Alex home with me this past weekend to see a Brewers game and visit my hometown. As I've said before, I'm not that fond of Whitefish Bay but do love Milwaukee very much so. While Alex and I wandered the streets of my suburb, I suddenly remembered a funny, happy memory. Here it is:
The Tree House
We walked past *Jacob Lee's house (not real name) and I saw his tree house. Now this tree house was the coolest fucking thing in the entire world. His dad was an architect and decided to spare no expense to make a cool house for a middle school-aged boy. The thick tree goes right through the middle of the house, which looks like a cottage for midgets. It's a light blue color and had electricity. Definitely the talk of Whitefish Bay Middle School when I was young.

When I was in 6th grade, Jacob had started handing out buttons that said: "I've been in Jacob Lee's Tree House." It took me a couple weeks to gather the sexual undertones of these small quarter sized pins. I envied the girls who had them on their jackets and book bags. I was a horribly awkward preteen girl and was definitely not invited to makeout with the gorgeous Jacob in his tree house (which is what people said happened up there).

A girl I knew offered to sell me one of her pins (she had three...middle school whore...) for five bucks and I of course jumped on the opportunity. Everything was fine for a week or two as I walked around the school feeling badass even though my lips had not touched a boy ever. Yet after a while my mom noticed the pin and I noticed shortly thereafter that it was missing. My mom confronted me, asking, essentially, what the fuck I was doing in Jacob's tree house. When I told my mom I had never been there, she asked why I had the pin then since mothers had figured out in the community what the pins meant. I said I bought it off a girl...and she told me that was really stupid.

Guess mom realized how lame I was going to be, even at the age of eleven. So yes, in 6th grade, I figured out it was better just to admit how inexperienced and awkward I was instead of going the "Easy A" route and pretending to be a preteen slutty fan-girl of the boy in a rock and roll band with the tree house.

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