Fast Cars and Vocab.

I write best at night. When everyone is asleep. No distractions. Lights out. Just me, a blanket, a pillow. The harsh glare of my computer increasing brain creativity. It’s 2:12 pm. My inner clock is not off. I simply am procrastinating.

When I tell someone I’m teaching high school the first thing they tell me is not to be one of “those teachers”. -Disclaimer. Because I look like I’m 16 does not mean I like 16 year old boys. Not to mention that’s illegal. And gross.-

Since moving to Vegas the amount of blushing I have done has increased. Exponentially. Of the 8 hours I spend “playing teacher” 6 of those are spent beet red and flushed. I have a half hour for lunch. I have a hour prep. Permanent sunburn. Completely believable.

A kid, or child if you will, asked me if I dated boys under 17. I don’t. But he has a car. I took this for some logical explanation as to why the rule should be broken. Life must be simpler at 16. I worry for the shock they will experience at 17 when suddenly life complicates. Teenage angst must triple.

I told the kids my age. I wish I’d had a camera to capture the horrified looks. Yes, children, 22 is indeed a dreadful old age.

Vocabulary word-Facetious.

Toga Parties and Cologne

The Ask:

I’m 17. I meet a guy. Later the same day I hear a tapping at my window. He’s throwing pebbles. Cute. He asks me on a date for that evening and then runs to my door to give me a rose. Sprayed with cologne. Lots. I think this may have been the most romantic set up to any date I have ever been on.

The Outfit:

Toga party. I don’t know if any girl has ever agonized over an outfit more than I did. I ended up decided on my light blue sheets. Classy. Three hours to get dressed was not nearly enough. In the end if I didn’t move too much the hundreds of safety pins would be sure to do their job.

The Date:

5:00. He picks me up. We are walking. In our togas. Across campus. The BYU Idaho campus isn’t that big but it’s big enough I don’t want to walk across it, especially in a toga. We arrive at the toga party. It doesn’t start till 9:00. Time: 5:15. Awesome. No back up plan. We go into the lounge. Play a game of pool. I win. Play another. I win again. We decide to play foosball. Better choice. We’re out of options. Time: 6:30. Remove togas. We sit and talk. We watch a movie. Time: 9:00. Music. Finally. Reapply togas. Exit lounge. I’m ready to dance. I love dancing. We decide to leave. Time 9:05. I’m disappointed. He takes me home.

The Lesson:

No toga parties. No dates with boys who spray roses with cologne.