Back to High School

Meet my high school, a place I called home for six years.
From 6th to 12th grades, in this one building.
They were some of the best times of my life.

When I started my job at my hometown newspaper a year ago, I knew there'd be experiences that I would have to deal with when they came up.

It didn't cross my mind then, but one of those experiences turned out to be walking back into my high school after leaving it five years before.

I was assigned to go take pictures of the high school art show. Something pretty mundane, right? Well, it should be been.I remember walking into those front doors, into those hallowed hallways and was instantly brought back to the days when I was walking to class with my friends, not having a care in the world.

Remember those days? All I had to worry about was studying for my next Algebra exam and whether or not the boy in my Biology class ever noticed me.. which he didn't. I didn't have to think about bills, grocery shopping, rent or whether or not my milk was okay three days after it expired.. which it wasn't.

When we're kids, all we wanted to do is grow up, be an adult and just leave high school as fast as possible and onto something bigger and better. Now that we're adults, we think about going back. How we could redo things, relive our glory days and just be young again.

And every time I go to a high school event, which I do a lot, I look at those kids and think of the futures they have in front of them. Where are they going to go to college? What will their major be? Will they stay in touch with their high school friends as much as they promise to? Will they succeed? I was in their place once. I remember how terrifying it was, how unsure of yourself you are. Now that it's over and gone, I wish I could go back and relive some moments.  

I recently attended a high school boys track meet and it definitely brought back memories for me. For those of you who don't know, which you shouldn't, at my high school, my best friend and I were the boys track managers. Those track meets were some of the best times of my high school career. We had the best times on the bus, at the meets and during practice. Those moments are the ones I'd like to relive. Me and my best friend, together in the same town, having a blast and being carefree. We got to check out really cute guys and hang out with great track coaches.

When I was taking pictures of the recent track meet, I hunted those coaches down and it made me even more sad. They're still the same great guys and I really wanted to be part of that group again. I saw their current managers sitting in bleachers, like we used to, covered head to toe because it was freezing, and just having a blast. I wanted to be them again. I wanted to be in those bleachers. We were almost in that exact same spot six or seven years ago. We were those girls. But now we're not. We're grown ups.

I guess going to that track meet really made me reminisce. Being back in that high school, where I walked across that stage, accepted my diploma and was excited to get the hell outta dodge, really makes me miss being that age. I know that it was six years ago and there's no going back, but I know that I'll have the memories forever.

When I go back up to the school now, I just smile and think about the times I spent there. I see the kids walk through the halls and picture myself there, walking with my best friend to our lockers and talking about boys. Being young and carefree.

Though I love reminiscing, it's time for me to focus on the life I have in front of me. Though yes, it can be hard and stressful, I wouldn't trade it for anything. I say that I wish I could go back, but if given the opportunity, I really don't think I would. That time of my life is over and it's time to be in the here and now.

“Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up.”

Oh My Goodness!

That's my go-to phrase when I don't know what to say.
"Oh my goodness" or "Oh dear" are my favorites.

Yes, I don't know what to say. I haven't blogged since.. like October and now it's March and I feel like a jerk.

I would like to say a lot has happened since I wrote last, but.. OH WAIT IT HAS! That's right, this girl has finally moved out of her parents' house and into one of her own! It's a miracle.

I never thought it would happen, but it finally did and I am so excited about it. Let me tell you how it happened.

I remember going home from work and Mom was making supper. I was standing in the kitchen talking to her when my phone buzzed. I looked it and I had a Facebook message. It read:

"Hey Morgan. How's it going? Well, I just wanted to let you know that we have a 2-bedroom/1 bath house that will come up for rent Feb. 1 (it's surprisingly close to your 'rents house!) and wondered if you would be interested in renting it yourself or with a friend? It's a very nice little house.....
We haven't advertised yet, just thought I could extend an offer to you - if you're at all interested."

I kind of looked at my phone in shock. I had been thinking of looking into apartments and stuff, but I just hadn't gotten around to it yet. I saw that message and thought, "Is this my chance?"

Rent was pretty cheap (if you have a roommate, which I do) and I immediately thought of my friend and co-worker who has unhappy in her apartment.

It sort of snowballed from there. We saw the house, loved it, I made a budget to figure out if I could afford it (which I can if I cut out spending money on stupid things) and BOOM! we moved!

Moving was crazy. My whole family helped me, which I saw as payback for all the times I helped them move.

When I was moving out, I got really nostalgic. As I was packing, I got really sad because I was packing up my whole life. I had lived in that bedroom since I was two years old. Sure, I went to college, but I left all my stuff at my parents' house. This time, I packed up EVERYTHING.

When my room was empty and all my stuff moved into trucks, I sat on my floor and just looked at my room. I had picked out the paint and personally painted each wall. I picked out the carpet and helped my dad install it. Each nail hole represented a picture that will now be hung in my new bedroom. I had so many memories in that room and now it's not mine anymore.

But it got better when I set up my new bedroom in my new house. It took me a little while, but I'm okay now. It's been a month and I am doing well. I saw my old bedroom at my parents' house and they've already changed it up. It's like they were just waiting for me to leave! They started rearranging their stuff about two days after I left! I was like, whoa.. cool your jets guys!

It's nice, to be an adult and not have to answer to my parents every time I want to go some place or just sit on the couch all day and play my Sims 3.

Sure, money is tight. Tighter than tight, but I manage. It's all part of being an adult. Though sometimes it really sucks and there are things I really don't want to do, I have to suck it up and do it. Well, I'm supposed to do it. I haven't done some of the things I have to do yet.. like health insurance. Oops.

My roommate and I are getting along quite well. We've known each other for like.. six years so it's all good.

Though I'm pretty sure my grandma thinks I'm a lesbian. I know, right? Talk about weird. I was at my grandma and grandpa's house for Easter and she was asking me how I like my house. I told her great, I really like it. Then she asked me, "So, how does your lady friend like the house?"

My lady friend? Really Grandma? My lady friend?

I answered, "Well, my roommate really likes it."

Dear, sweet Grandmother. I like men. With penises. And beards. Just so you know. Thanks.