REFLECTIONS OF PUBERTY, AWKWARDNESS, AND MIDDLE SCHOOL
For some reason, when ever guys imitate 'female chatter',(at least the guys i hang out with) they always talk about nails or periods. It is true- girls DO talk about nails and period. But no more than guys talk about it....(at least the girls i talk to.)
Are girls so flighty, stupid, and uninteresting to guys? I mean, yeah. We have nails. We have periods. The girls that I am friends with, who are not flighty, stupid, or uninteresting, rarely talk about their nails or periods.
But I'm going to blog about mine. My period anyway...not my nails. Along with other awkward topics related to puberty and growing up. I decided to do this after relfecting on this upcoming Fall, and working with middle school girls (most likely). I realized that this is a part of me that I've never really reflected on much- because I've never given it much thought. But having spent more and more time with my middle school aged cousin and her friends, I'm becoming more and more aware about how vital these topics are to girls at that age group. Whenever it comes up, I generally get a bit weirded out. She's asked me questions before- that I honestly didn't know how to answer. She looks up to me a lot, and I love her like I love no one else. It's probably as close as I'll get to feeling Motherly love before I have a child. She's told me things too, that I know I thought at that age, but I would never EVER admit or say. I've realized it's something I need to get past if I want to be of any benefit to middle school girls. What a rough time.
I think I got my period when I was 13. I really can't remember. I know, I know. It's supposed to be a symbol of "woman-hood" and "growing up", and such. But I didn't see it as anything more than a new inconvenience added to my middle school life that already sucked. I think I got it when I was 12 actually....but then didn't have it again until a few months later, which might explain the fuzzy memory.
My friend Jocelyn got her period in the 6th grade. We where sitting in chorus, when she came back from the bathroom, all wide eyed and said, "DUDE.......THERE'S BLOOD IN MY UNDERWEAR. I THINK I....I GOT MY PERIOD." I was immediately grossed out. But, since we where best friends, I tried to be supportive. And by supportive, I mean whispering back "Oh..." and then desperately trying to change the conversation. Jocelyn has always been very very very open about her sexuality and life in general. She's comfortable talking about sex and her sex life with just about anyone. Even complete strangers. I always admired how open she could be in some ways.
I remember going home, and thinking, "I haven't gotten mine. What's wrong with me?". I think, when you're in middle school, you really just want to get your period so you can be in the elite club. I wasn't in this club. Jocelyn was. And though she spoke about it pretty openly- most other girls didn't. The only way you could really tell which girls had their period apart from the girls who didn't, where the one who carried purses. No 6th or 7th grader truly desires to carry around something else during the school day. It's just one more thing to get yelled at for losing.
So, I joined the club sometime in 7th grade. I wasn't excited. And, really, I wasn't scared or confused. I remembered Jocelyn telling me that when she told her Mom she got her period, her Mom cried and then her Father congratulated her or something. I was horrified at this thought- and I knew that there was nothing worse on earth I could have happen to me outside of awkward attention given to me for my puberty....by my parents.
I didn't tell any one. I decided it would be secret. I thought of this one 7th heaven episode, where the youngest one....Al? No...I think that's from step by step. Any way. The little one, we'll call her, gets her period. The Mother cries, and heart warming piano keys are played in the back ground. They keep referring to the little one's period as "womanhood", which only makes it worse. And then, they all laugh and celebrate this moment in the little one's life by throwing a special dinner for her. They smile at eachother....and I distinctly remember the horrifying creepy grins they give one another around the dinner table.
I want to vomit just typing about it.
I decided that I did not want a dinner. I did not want to be congratulated.
My cousin, Courtney, got hers a few months later. The ENTIRE family found out. When Morgan, my little cousin, got hers, same deal. The poor thing is used to that sort of attention...but still. It was talked about at our Christmas dinner. She told me that her Mom gave her a gift basket filled with pads, tampons, and midol.
SIDE NOTE----I've noticed a dramatic difference in girls who grow up with brothers, compared to those who grow up with sisters. My cousins, Courtney and Morgan, are sisters with no brothers. When I stay over their house, which is often, I notice a distinct difference in their being. I'm much more conservative about...pretty much everything compared to them. I guess it's because when I was doing a majority of my growing up, I did it solo. Where as they had eachother and a really awesome relationship with their Mom. Over all, they are just much more comfortable with themselves than I am.
For example---when I go over there, I've gotten used to them walking in the bathroom while I'm showering or peeing. And when I get dressed, they don't look away or leave the room. They carry on a conversation as if i where clothed. They walk around naked and speak openly about having their period or the size of their boobs. When we go shopping together, they insist on trying on clothes together in a dressing room. I'm still not fully comfortable with this- but what can you do?
In the 6th grade, after Hurricane Isabelle, I lived with my Aunt and cousins for a while. She was a bit disturbed by how I dressed, and decided to change that. One day, while my cousins where at school, she took me out shopping. Now, at this point in my life, I never did shopping. The only shopping I did was at Wal-Mart or Costco- when my Mom made me try on a winter coat...or pick out one of those packages of socks and underwear based on their theme or color scheme. Every year, we'd all go to some giant shoe warehouse and get to pick out tennishoes. That's about it.
So, my aunt took me to the mall. She told me it was time for me to buy a bra. We went into really nice department stores, where my aunt asked the store clerks for help. I was mortified. They asked me questions about what I wanted, and I couldn't answer honestly when the truth was, "Death." She even made them go into the dressing room with me to make sure everything fit properly. I was so embarassed.
But for some reason, I can't help but thank her for doing that with me. My Mom probably wanted to, but my aunt stole it from her. I wonder why she did that. I don't think my Mom ever knew how to approach subjects like those- cosidering she was so used to making me comfortable by avoiding it.
Then, there was shaving. I remember in the fifth grade- I was hanging out with my friend Crystal and her Mom. Crystal's Mom passed away about three years ago- but she is someone I will never forget. Her Mom, like Crystal, is stunningly beautiful. They're pretty, white, and blonde...but the type worth noting. I remember sitting next to her, and she looked at my legs and said, " Oh my goodness girl. When are you going to shave your legs?" I said, "I don't know." (They where quite manly at this time.) She asked me if my Mom would let me, and I told her yes. Even though I never asked. She asked me why I didn't, and I told her I was scared. This wasn't true. She told me about how she taught crystal or something, and that it really wasn't hard to do, compared to how she had to do it in the 70's.
I decided I'd give it a try that night. I took my Mom's razor, and just went at it. She was right, because it was easy. I became addicted to smooth legs, and I think I shaved daily. My Mom noticed one day, and asked, "Since when have you been shaving your legs?". I was like...11. I said "Uh...for a while? Like...a really long time now." This was a lie. She said, "Well why didn't you ask me?" I told her, "I didn't know I needed permission." It ended there, and she put a new razor in the shower for me.
Anyway. Back to my period. I remember using a pad for the first time, and I didn't leave the house the whole day. I felt like I was wearing a diaper, and I started fearing my new future. I started using tampons, and I've never used a single pad since. I don't know how girls do it. I tried it once, and it is not for me.
To share with you how open Jocelyn is, she explained to me not too long ago about being at a party, and having friends explain to her how to use a tampon. Our friend Aly coached her through it on the other side of the bathroom door. Again, big difference between us. I would rather die.
Okay, and now for more awkward reflections on puberty:
I didn't start using deodorant until about two years ago. I never needed it, which is weird. I'm very lucky.
I have sweaty hands, but clean arm pits. I'm not sure which is worse.
I'm not sure what age group it is now that most girls start having sex. My little cousin goes to Saint Paul's school for girls, which is a very expensive and wonderful school. The best in Maryland. We where talking about it last weekend, when she started telling about certain girls in school, and describing them as "sluts". When I asked her what she meant by "sluts", she described the normal behavior of one who is known as a "slut"....but never mentioned sex. She said, "I don't if they have sex or not.", but proceeded to explain how, "This one girl, abby. Oh my God. She always takes picture of her and caitlin like holding eachother and kissing eachother. And her bra is like...super padded." and then how she "seriously doesn't understand why a girl would wear a thong.". My God, I love her. I asked her if any of her friends have had sex. She said yeah, some girls do. Bust most just haven't but pretend they do.
I'm so proud of her. She's very open about everything. Partly by nature, and partly because her Mom is one of those people who makes everything easy and comfortable to talk about. Because of this though, she's able to understand truth, and have this remarkable wisdom at an early age. She's so mature. But in a different way. She's mature because she's honest, and obediant. Despite the fact that i watched her and her friend a few months ago while her mom was at a party, and the two girls sang some annoying inside joke involving the words "gynocologist" and "vagina"- and laughed histarically for two hours straight. But that's a lot more mature to me than pretending you're too old to laugh at those words.
Virginity and sex are always awkward topics. For me at least. I learned pretty much everything I needed to know (or at least i thought i needed to know) about sex from friends and their Moms. I'm so thankful for having open friends. My parents never talked about it when I was in middle school. It wasn't until high school, when my Mom found used condoms in my room or something. She then decided to take me to get a pregnancy test. At this point, I was 14, and I wasn't as uncomfortable with it as I was angry. I knew I wasn't, and I was beyond denying I had sex. Well, when we got home from the docctors, my Mom mom acted quickly. She called my boyfriend and told him I was pregnant. She then told me. (SPOILER ALERT!- I really wasn't.) I didn't cry....I remember just looking and touching my stomach. I remember being in shock. I was sitting on the couch, watching Sponge Bob, and she walked up to me in front of the couch and said, "You're pregnant." I just looked at her and said..."I'm what?" She repeated her self, in this serious but calm tone. (I must add, that my Mother was a theater major in the short years she spend at college.) She said, "The doctor just called and told me." I just sat there and my world dissapeared for a moment. I said..."Okay." and went to my room. I remember, quite vividly, thinking "I've been cussing. My baby has heard me cuss. I'm a cussing mother. I'm not ready. I need a cigarette....but wait. Oh my God...my baby is going to die. My baby has ingested alcohol and nicotene. And cuss words." For those thirty minutes i was in honest belief I was pregnant, the serious consequences and responsibilities didn't quite hit me. I only remember being truly upset that I cussed infront of my baby, and that abortion was not going to be an option. My Mom came up to my room and said in the same tone she had convinced me I was pregnant, "You're not pregnant." At this point, I was too relieved to be angry at her. The only time we talked about it since was when my boyfriend came over in a matter of minutes panicking. I think he was more angry than relieved. We laughed about it later. Looking back, I'm not really mad at her. I'm more of just in bewilderment that any Mother would use this tactic. She's crazy, and still wonders why I don't trust her completely. The only thing that changed was the ' no closing bedroom door when boys are in the room' rule.
I think my Mom tried being a parent, until I was about 13. She used to be very strict. She wouldn't let me go out with friends, or stay the night at their houses. When I asked her why, she said she didn't want me to annoy their parents. Or she would say I was punished for not wearing my retainer. I think she was just scared, so I don't hold it against her. But when I was 13, I went through a lot, and so did she with her health and finances. I withdrew completely. I had new friends, and they did new and exciting things. I hated missing out. All of my friends where older than me. For my 14th birthday, me and crystal and her boyfriend went to a concert. My Mom only said I could go if my older brother accompanied me. I thought it was going to be lame. I was wrong. That was the night me and my oldest brother bonded. He bought me and my friends whiskey and vodka. He let us smoke in his car, and Tim got so drunk that they kicked us out of the Recher Theater. We couldn't go home yet, because it would be too early. So we drove around. We dropped Tim off at his house, and ofcourse he was insanely drunk. This resulted in a phone call to my Mom the next day. She was pissed...like...reaaaaal pissed. She made me go to school all hung over. I didn't even get home until 4 AM.
But I'll never forget that night. I drove around with my brother, and learned all about him. I never knew him before this night. He told me about all these girls I never knew he talked to. He told me he'd been drinking since he was 11. (I think he's lying, though he still says it's the truth.) He told me about how he smoked, and how my Dad knew he smoked. But he told me that my Dad couldn't know that I knew, or that I smoked, because he'd kill me. He talked about doing acid with his friends, and my Mom never knowing. He talked about smoking weed and all these things I didn't even know he knew about. I honestly viewed my oldest brother as this...quiet nerd. I thought the reason he never came out of his room or was never home was because he was so nerdy and smart. I didn't know he was funny, and that he partied. We bonded a lot over the next couple years. Before that, we had no friendship. We had no relationship outside of sharing a bathroom. He told me about how he'd done heroine, and cocaine. He said he'd never do heroine again, and he said cocaine is just fun. I'm not sure if any of this was true 5 years ago, because I think he only said those things to impress me. He's another person I don't trust.
My brother, Josh, he's so different. Yeah, he parties. And yeah, he's stupid. But he's the most honest person you will meet. He loves his beer, but he's very simple. He's the most patient person I know. He's so gentle, and truly kind hearted. He's the most innocent guy I've ever met. He's so awkward, but so funny. And awkward people are generally a pain to be around- but he's not. He's so oblivious that it makes it okay. He never talked back to my parents when we grew up. I've never seen him get angry. He's simple, and he's light hearted. He's not dramatic. He's not deep at all. He has the most unique perspective in life. He makes fun of people a lot, but only the people who deserve it. He has my exact sense of humor. The other day, we drove by a guy with "4 1 0 " tattood on his leg. He said, "He's going to feel like a horses patoot when maryland changes it's area code." That's all he said for thirty minutes in the car. I'm not sure if anyone else would find that as funny as me.
Okay. I'm done rambling and reflecting. Just typing this makes me feel nostalgic. I need to snap out of it and start being productive.
Are girls so flighty, stupid, and uninteresting to guys? I mean, yeah. We have nails. We have periods. The girls that I am friends with, who are not flighty, stupid, or uninteresting, rarely talk about their nails or periods.
But I'm going to blog about mine. My period anyway...not my nails. Along with other awkward topics related to puberty and growing up. I decided to do this after relfecting on this upcoming Fall, and working with middle school girls (most likely). I realized that this is a part of me that I've never really reflected on much- because I've never given it much thought. But having spent more and more time with my middle school aged cousin and her friends, I'm becoming more and more aware about how vital these topics are to girls at that age group. Whenever it comes up, I generally get a bit weirded out. She's asked me questions before- that I honestly didn't know how to answer. She looks up to me a lot, and I love her like I love no one else. It's probably as close as I'll get to feeling Motherly love before I have a child. She's told me things too, that I know I thought at that age, but I would never EVER admit or say. I've realized it's something I need to get past if I want to be of any benefit to middle school girls. What a rough time.
I think I got my period when I was 13. I really can't remember. I know, I know. It's supposed to be a symbol of "woman-hood" and "growing up", and such. But I didn't see it as anything more than a new inconvenience added to my middle school life that already sucked. I think I got it when I was 12 actually....but then didn't have it again until a few months later, which might explain the fuzzy memory.
My friend Jocelyn got her period in the 6th grade. We where sitting in chorus, when she came back from the bathroom, all wide eyed and said, "DUDE.......THERE'S BLOOD IN MY UNDERWEAR. I THINK I....I GOT MY PERIOD." I was immediately grossed out. But, since we where best friends, I tried to be supportive. And by supportive, I mean whispering back "Oh..." and then desperately trying to change the conversation. Jocelyn has always been very very very open about her sexuality and life in general. She's comfortable talking about sex and her sex life with just about anyone. Even complete strangers. I always admired how open she could be in some ways.
I remember going home, and thinking, "I haven't gotten mine. What's wrong with me?". I think, when you're in middle school, you really just want to get your period so you can be in the elite club. I wasn't in this club. Jocelyn was. And though she spoke about it pretty openly- most other girls didn't. The only way you could really tell which girls had their period apart from the girls who didn't, where the one who carried purses. No 6th or 7th grader truly desires to carry around something else during the school day. It's just one more thing to get yelled at for losing.
So, I joined the club sometime in 7th grade. I wasn't excited. And, really, I wasn't scared or confused. I remembered Jocelyn telling me that when she told her Mom she got her period, her Mom cried and then her Father congratulated her or something. I was horrified at this thought- and I knew that there was nothing worse on earth I could have happen to me outside of awkward attention given to me for my puberty....by my parents.
I didn't tell any one. I decided it would be secret. I thought of this one 7th heaven episode, where the youngest one....Al? No...I think that's from step by step. Any way. The little one, we'll call her, gets her period. The Mother cries, and heart warming piano keys are played in the back ground. They keep referring to the little one's period as "womanhood", which only makes it worse. And then, they all laugh and celebrate this moment in the little one's life by throwing a special dinner for her. They smile at eachother....and I distinctly remember the horrifying creepy grins they give one another around the dinner table.
I want to vomit just typing about it.
I decided that I did not want a dinner. I did not want to be congratulated.
My cousin, Courtney, got hers a few months later. The ENTIRE family found out. When Morgan, my little cousin, got hers, same deal. The poor thing is used to that sort of attention...but still. It was talked about at our Christmas dinner. She told me that her Mom gave her a gift basket filled with pads, tampons, and midol.
SIDE NOTE----I've noticed a dramatic difference in girls who grow up with brothers, compared to those who grow up with sisters. My cousins, Courtney and Morgan, are sisters with no brothers. When I stay over their house, which is often, I notice a distinct difference in their being. I'm much more conservative about...pretty much everything compared to them. I guess it's because when I was doing a majority of my growing up, I did it solo. Where as they had eachother and a really awesome relationship with their Mom. Over all, they are just much more comfortable with themselves than I am.
For example---when I go over there, I've gotten used to them walking in the bathroom while I'm showering or peeing. And when I get dressed, they don't look away or leave the room. They carry on a conversation as if i where clothed. They walk around naked and speak openly about having their period or the size of their boobs. When we go shopping together, they insist on trying on clothes together in a dressing room. I'm still not fully comfortable with this- but what can you do?
In the 6th grade, after Hurricane Isabelle, I lived with my Aunt and cousins for a while. She was a bit disturbed by how I dressed, and decided to change that. One day, while my cousins where at school, she took me out shopping. Now, at this point in my life, I never did shopping. The only shopping I did was at Wal-Mart or Costco- when my Mom made me try on a winter coat...or pick out one of those packages of socks and underwear based on their theme or color scheme. Every year, we'd all go to some giant shoe warehouse and get to pick out tennishoes. That's about it.
So, my aunt took me to the mall. She told me it was time for me to buy a bra. We went into really nice department stores, where my aunt asked the store clerks for help. I was mortified. They asked me questions about what I wanted, and I couldn't answer honestly when the truth was, "Death." She even made them go into the dressing room with me to make sure everything fit properly. I was so embarassed.
But for some reason, I can't help but thank her for doing that with me. My Mom probably wanted to, but my aunt stole it from her. I wonder why she did that. I don't think my Mom ever knew how to approach subjects like those- cosidering she was so used to making me comfortable by avoiding it.
Then, there was shaving. I remember in the fifth grade- I was hanging out with my friend Crystal and her Mom. Crystal's Mom passed away about three years ago- but she is someone I will never forget. Her Mom, like Crystal, is stunningly beautiful. They're pretty, white, and blonde...but the type worth noting. I remember sitting next to her, and she looked at my legs and said, " Oh my goodness girl. When are you going to shave your legs?" I said, "I don't know." (They where quite manly at this time.) She asked me if my Mom would let me, and I told her yes. Even though I never asked. She asked me why I didn't, and I told her I was scared. This wasn't true. She told me about how she taught crystal or something, and that it really wasn't hard to do, compared to how she had to do it in the 70's.
I decided I'd give it a try that night. I took my Mom's razor, and just went at it. She was right, because it was easy. I became addicted to smooth legs, and I think I shaved daily. My Mom noticed one day, and asked, "Since when have you been shaving your legs?". I was like...11. I said "Uh...for a while? Like...a really long time now." This was a lie. She said, "Well why didn't you ask me?" I told her, "I didn't know I needed permission." It ended there, and she put a new razor in the shower for me.
Anyway. Back to my period. I remember using a pad for the first time, and I didn't leave the house the whole day. I felt like I was wearing a diaper, and I started fearing my new future. I started using tampons, and I've never used a single pad since. I don't know how girls do it. I tried it once, and it is not for me.
To share with you how open Jocelyn is, she explained to me not too long ago about being at a party, and having friends explain to her how to use a tampon. Our friend Aly coached her through it on the other side of the bathroom door. Again, big difference between us. I would rather die.
Okay, and now for more awkward reflections on puberty:
I didn't start using deodorant until about two years ago. I never needed it, which is weird. I'm very lucky.
I have sweaty hands, but clean arm pits. I'm not sure which is worse.
I'm not sure what age group it is now that most girls start having sex. My little cousin goes to Saint Paul's school for girls, which is a very expensive and wonderful school. The best in Maryland. We where talking about it last weekend, when she started telling about certain girls in school, and describing them as "sluts". When I asked her what she meant by "sluts", she described the normal behavior of one who is known as a "slut"....but never mentioned sex. She said, "I don't if they have sex or not.", but proceeded to explain how, "This one girl, abby. Oh my God. She always takes picture of her and caitlin like holding eachother and kissing eachother. And her bra is like...super padded." and then how she "seriously doesn't understand why a girl would wear a thong.". My God, I love her. I asked her if any of her friends have had sex. She said yeah, some girls do. Bust most just haven't but pretend they do.
I'm so proud of her. She's very open about everything. Partly by nature, and partly because her Mom is one of those people who makes everything easy and comfortable to talk about. Because of this though, she's able to understand truth, and have this remarkable wisdom at an early age. She's so mature. But in a different way. She's mature because she's honest, and obediant. Despite the fact that i watched her and her friend a few months ago while her mom was at a party, and the two girls sang some annoying inside joke involving the words "gynocologist" and "vagina"- and laughed histarically for two hours straight. But that's a lot more mature to me than pretending you're too old to laugh at those words.
Virginity and sex are always awkward topics. For me at least. I learned pretty much everything I needed to know (or at least i thought i needed to know) about sex from friends and their Moms. I'm so thankful for having open friends. My parents never talked about it when I was in middle school. It wasn't until high school, when my Mom found used condoms in my room or something. She then decided to take me to get a pregnancy test. At this point, I was 14, and I wasn't as uncomfortable with it as I was angry. I knew I wasn't, and I was beyond denying I had sex. Well, when we got home from the docctors, my Mom mom acted quickly. She called my boyfriend and told him I was pregnant. She then told me. (SPOILER ALERT!- I really wasn't.) I didn't cry....I remember just looking and touching my stomach. I remember being in shock. I was sitting on the couch, watching Sponge Bob, and she walked up to me in front of the couch and said, "You're pregnant." I just looked at her and said..."I'm what?" She repeated her self, in this serious but calm tone. (I must add, that my Mother was a theater major in the short years she spend at college.) She said, "The doctor just called and told me." I just sat there and my world dissapeared for a moment. I said..."Okay." and went to my room. I remember, quite vividly, thinking "I've been cussing. My baby has heard me cuss. I'm a cussing mother. I'm not ready. I need a cigarette....but wait. Oh my God...my baby is going to die. My baby has ingested alcohol and nicotene. And cuss words." For those thirty minutes i was in honest belief I was pregnant, the serious consequences and responsibilities didn't quite hit me. I only remember being truly upset that I cussed infront of my baby, and that abortion was not going to be an option. My Mom came up to my room and said in the same tone she had convinced me I was pregnant, "You're not pregnant." At this point, I was too relieved to be angry at her. The only time we talked about it since was when my boyfriend came over in a matter of minutes panicking. I think he was more angry than relieved. We laughed about it later. Looking back, I'm not really mad at her. I'm more of just in bewilderment that any Mother would use this tactic. She's crazy, and still wonders why I don't trust her completely. The only thing that changed was the ' no closing bedroom door when boys are in the room' rule.
I think my Mom tried being a parent, until I was about 13. She used to be very strict. She wouldn't let me go out with friends, or stay the night at their houses. When I asked her why, she said she didn't want me to annoy their parents. Or she would say I was punished for not wearing my retainer. I think she was just scared, so I don't hold it against her. But when I was 13, I went through a lot, and so did she with her health and finances. I withdrew completely. I had new friends, and they did new and exciting things. I hated missing out. All of my friends where older than me. For my 14th birthday, me and crystal and her boyfriend went to a concert. My Mom only said I could go if my older brother accompanied me. I thought it was going to be lame. I was wrong. That was the night me and my oldest brother bonded. He bought me and my friends whiskey and vodka. He let us smoke in his car, and Tim got so drunk that they kicked us out of the Recher Theater. We couldn't go home yet, because it would be too early. So we drove around. We dropped Tim off at his house, and ofcourse he was insanely drunk. This resulted in a phone call to my Mom the next day. She was pissed...like...reaaaaal pissed. She made me go to school all hung over. I didn't even get home until 4 AM.
But I'll never forget that night. I drove around with my brother, and learned all about him. I never knew him before this night. He told me about all these girls I never knew he talked to. He told me he'd been drinking since he was 11. (I think he's lying, though he still says it's the truth.) He told me about how he smoked, and how my Dad knew he smoked. But he told me that my Dad couldn't know that I knew, or that I smoked, because he'd kill me. He talked about doing acid with his friends, and my Mom never knowing. He talked about smoking weed and all these things I didn't even know he knew about. I honestly viewed my oldest brother as this...quiet nerd. I thought the reason he never came out of his room or was never home was because he was so nerdy and smart. I didn't know he was funny, and that he partied. We bonded a lot over the next couple years. Before that, we had no friendship. We had no relationship outside of sharing a bathroom. He told me about how he'd done heroine, and cocaine. He said he'd never do heroine again, and he said cocaine is just fun. I'm not sure if any of this was true 5 years ago, because I think he only said those things to impress me. He's another person I don't trust.
My brother, Josh, he's so different. Yeah, he parties. And yeah, he's stupid. But he's the most honest person you will meet. He loves his beer, but he's very simple. He's the most patient person I know. He's so gentle, and truly kind hearted. He's the most innocent guy I've ever met. He's so awkward, but so funny. And awkward people are generally a pain to be around- but he's not. He's so oblivious that it makes it okay. He never talked back to my parents when we grew up. I've never seen him get angry. He's simple, and he's light hearted. He's not dramatic. He's not deep at all. He has the most unique perspective in life. He makes fun of people a lot, but only the people who deserve it. He has my exact sense of humor. The other day, we drove by a guy with "4 1 0 " tattood on his leg. He said, "He's going to feel like a horses patoot when maryland changes it's area code." That's all he said for thirty minutes in the car. I'm not sure if anyone else would find that as funny as me.
Okay. I'm done rambling and reflecting. Just typing this makes me feel nostalgic. I need to snap out of it and start being productive.