Bad Boys

Someday girls will learn to love boys who read, call instead of text, and compliment you on your brain. 

But that day has not yet arrived.  

I can't tell you how pleased I am to see that the next generation of ladies has taken up the universal pursuit of the bad boy.   I confiscated this note today.  It is both a beautiful declaration of middle school love and a honest request for affections to be returned.

 

Here are a few highlights for those of you who don't read middle school:

"I love you sike haha you are funny and stupid even tho you say stupid shit I still listen and we say stupid shit to each other and we fight alot but yea"

"Ever sence you whent out with Ling but I didn't say nothing because IDK what you would say so I didn't say nothing so yea and I still have a crush on you you might not think the same but I'm just going to be honest with you you might not be honest with me but just to let you know when I see your smile it just so cute"

"I'm telling you now but would whant to go back out with you you are so amazing and cute that smile thoe   xD  haha but really that smile so I guss I told you how I fell about you see you leter"

And who does this little lady feel her blinding love for?  My resident bad, bad boy.  Which got me thinking, maybe I've got him all wrong. Yes, he threw a wad of paper at my head and got a referral...but he makes her laugh.  Yes, he whips his keys around on a string to see if he can hit other kids...but he tells her she is beautiful.  Yes, he stole my Scotch tape and taped his whole face into a giant freak show mask...but he really listens to her when she talks.  

At the end of the day, who am I to judge their love? 

Oh, right, I'm their teacher.  I kind of do get a say.  Young lady: don't do it, he's a mess, step away, run away, stay away, don't even try to save/change him, and hurry - go find yourself an English tutor. 

Freak.

Every person has quirks - things that they do or care about that others may find unusual.  A few weeks ago I decided to look at my life and decipher what my quirks are.  This was actually pretty challenging because, obviously, to me these things all seem normal.  However, what I found made me wonder if I am indeed "quirky", or in fact a verifiable Freak. 

1. I have to lotion my feet in bed, or else I can't fall asleep. 

2. I have to completely get off my bike every.single.time.I.stop.  I only know how to start my bike from a run; I can't do it stationary.  Panic ensues when I try.

3. I can only turn off my treadmill when the time, calorie count, and mileage are all simultaneously a divisible of 3.  

4. Whenever my eyes are idle, they pick up on a word that is visible at that moment (street signs, book titles, vocabulary words).  I then mentally rearrange the letters so that the word becomes a palindrome pattern of vowels and consonants.  Meaning that the word must have the same pattern of vowels and consonants forwards and backwards.  I do this so frequently that I can rearrange multi-syllabic words in my head in seconds. 

5. I hit myself every.single.time I see a Volkswagen Beetle.  (I also say "slug bug, no hit backs" - although no one is there to hear me, hit me back or, really, to compete with me to see them first).  There are 2 Beetles in my neighborhood, so I pretty much punch myself all the time.  However, I would never dare to slug bug another person - how childish!

6. I have a secret t-shirt obsession.  I get very, very stressed out when I attend an event that provides event t-shirts because I want one (in my size) so badly.  Sometimes I will call ahead and make up a lie to get my t-shirt in advance.  I will sneak out of the event and stand in the hallway to be the first in line for t-shirts.  The best part of this obsession is that I never, ever wear the t-shirts.  That t-shirt is a memento and wearing it will ruin it!

I've known for a while that the t-shirt obsession was starting to get out of control.  I have never-worn t-shirts crammed into every drawer and closet in my apartment.  So, today I decided to lay them all out and see what I've collected.  I expected to find maybe 30ish t-shirts.  I was wrong. 

There are 86 in total. 

I have my Africa t-shirts:

My college t-shirts:

My race t-shirts:

My high school t-shirts (go Patriots - crush the East Angels!):

My Teach For America t-shirts:

My Aurora West t-shirts:

Not to mention the randoms that don't even fit into a category!

Right now I feel like a super Freak.  Who keeps so many t-shirts and never wears them?  Do I need t-shirt therapy? 

Yet, there is something amazing happening here as well.  Here, on my bed and my floor is a memory of every single thing I've ever been proud of.  It's my whole life sized small in cotton and ink.

I know that I can't keep going like this, I need to make room for new memories and new events in my life.  I discussed this conundrum at my recent church happy hour, and a friend recommended that I turn all of these t-shirts into a quilt.  And while the idea of cutting these guys up is giving my a mild heart attack, I think that might just be the perfect solution.  All I need now is to learn how to quilt!

What I'm thinking is that life is not about hiding or changing your idiosyncrasies.  It's about accepting yourself for the Freak you are, and figuring out ways to not be held back by your idiosyncrasies.  I'm a OCD t-shirt collecting, vowel palindroming, divisible of 3-running, slug bug self-slugging Freak.  

But you better know that the t-shirts for my wedding and the births of all my children are going to be top notch!  Collectors' items, if you will.