For my entire childhood, I lived on the wrong side of town. In hindsight I can see that the invisible dividing line through our town was a bunch of bologna, but in junior high I was obsessed with being the coolest and therefore mortified by the location of our house and its general design. Now, I see our house as the beautiful hard work of a single mother, but at the time it disgusted me. Our appliances were old. Our carpeting was brown. And our bathtub had stains in it.
My friends had nicer houses, and I idolized them for it. They all seemed so normal– they passed friendship notebooks around and had really stylish bangs and parents that were still together and not gay. They all lived in close proximity on the OTHER side of town so they could get together more often without me. And Lawrence, my ego who totally lacks self-esteem, just KNEW they were gossiping all about my shitty house and my weird dad who wore leather vests.
Acceptance from these girls meant more to me than my Beanie Baby collection. So, one day I convinced the entire clique to come over for a slumber party. I rejoiced when they all agreed. Even Tammy came; she was the prettiest one who had boobs first. We talked about boys and our vaginas. We gossiped about everyone at school.
Then, things took a bad turn. One girl thought she saw a doggie toy on the floor and, when she picked it up, found that it was actually dog diarrhea. If that wasn’t bad enough, we awoke at daybreak, excited to start the day with pancakes. And there it was… a dead, rotting mouse next to Tammy’s perfectly perky head.
A dead mouse.
It scurried under us in the night and keeled over right next to the most popular girl’s head. Great.
I already lived on the trashy side of town, and I had forced my friends to come over, touch dog poo, and sleep on mice.
Horrifying.
Worst slumber party ever.
But it’s not because my house wasn’t perfect that my slumber party failed. It’s mainly because my friends weren’t really friends. They were judgmental and mean and not at all nurturing. I don’t blame the actual people for acting this way. For spreading rumors about my nipples or tricking me into sitting in chocolate pudding at lunch. I blame the age. All girls seem to go through this horrible time period of feeling ugly and treating people uglier. This time period alone is the main reason for my indecision about having kids. Ah! So scary.
I’m proud to say that my friends today would have no problem waking up on a mouse at my slumber party. I mean, they might not be happy about it. But I wouldn’t fear that they’d go talk about me behind my back. I wouldn’t think they’d condemn me from hosting slumber parties. They would simply think it hilarious, and it would be a funny story to be told at any gathering and most assuredly at my wedding. Because true friends don’t really care if you have mice or if you buy all your clothes at TJ Maxx or if you stick your hand in your pants at the movies or if you live on the wrong side of town. Real friends accept you no matter what. NO MATTER WHAT. Even if you don’t have good bangs, which I still don’t.
It took me a long time to find them, but I finally did. In college. At work. In random classes. On this very blog. I finally have those real friends who love me even after knowing me really really well… even after knowing I talk about poo and never clean out my trunk and don’t own underwear. My self-esteem changed and so did my friends. To mirror Ellen and the rest: it does get better.
Phew.
Seriously.
Being a writer can be a lonely road. I am often holed up in my apartment for weeks. My friends get it. Once something gets published, it’s like I have my own PR system, as my Facebook friends distribute it like confetti. What support! They’re proud of me. And I’m proud of them too. And it feels so good. Love feels like swimming in a bowl of whip cream. Even the friends I have never met, who stop by here every week, bring me such inspiration and motivation with their own gifts that I love and accept. I feel so lucky to have all kinds of friends who color my life with so much love. So, thank you. For you, I am so so so grateful. I can’t imagine what life would be like if I still had to watch what I said or keep secrets or worry about what rumors you were cooking up.
Please come have a slumber party any time (sans mice). You’re always invited (but give me some notice. I know you love me anyway, but still I’d like to be wearing clothes when you come).
Thank you for being there. And being here. And being you. And being amazing.
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They might even enjoy it because it would give them a good blog post.
ha! you're right. Ok. Come over. And I promise mice.
You're right. I am amazing! Thanks. I'm so awesome.
When I was in elementary school, we lived in a rich neighborhood in Long Island. Life consisted of Jem slumber parties and playing with hamsters. (That is not a euphemism)
Then we moved to Brooklyn. Six of us in a one-bedroom apartment. Life consisted of roach parties and mouse circuses (circusi?).
Then we moved to a house in Maryland and we thought we were the Jeffersons. Only to find out on the first day of high school that bright-red Cross Colours shorts weren't as cool as they were in NY and my new classmates sure were mean to me. Jerks.
Now, in my 30s, I'm the best I've ever been. I have the best friends I've ever had and, yeah, I think I turned out pretty well. And anyone who says otherwise will wake up to a dead mouse in their bed tomorrow!
And we love you. Thanks for being YOU. And telling stories that almost make me laugh water out my nose.
WHERE ARE THE PAPER TOWELS?!!?
Question #1. Is Tammy single?
Question #2 What is her phone number?
I'm a big fan of mice bed head.
But seriously do you buy all your clothes from TJ Maxx? Because I've been telling EVERYONE that.
I had my 10th birthday party at my house. I would tell you more but I've repressed all memories of said event since I was in the bathroom when everyone left. FLASHBACKS.
From the way you describe it, I picture you as Andie from Pretty in Pink. The cool, adorable, and quirky misunderstood girl. Did you have a Duckie?
Love you right baaaaaack! Tear! :-)
What a touching post! First, if you would not mind adding me to as a 'friend' on Face Book, I would truly be honored. I would like to support you as much as I can in the internet-o-sphere. Everyone should read whatever you write!!
I am the oldest of my bunch, so by the time the youngesters came of age, we were living on 'the right side' of the tracks. They missed the roaches, the mice and regular gun fire and way crummy schools. They grew up with not a sense of entitlement but a low-rent middle class elitism, because they never had to go to the store with paper food stamps to purchase milk and bread with.
I am so glad that you found friends. I did not even dare to allow for any, because I found everyone to be so damn janky. Growing up in the hood trying to be a hockey player is much harder than it sounds… and the same for golfing when it was just Calvin Peete on the tour and Tiger Woods was some brat on Mike Douglas. So I admire you for your courage. There were a few sleep overs for me, but that was so long ago back in elementary school, it could have been de facto babysitting, as my Mom did midnights at Dodge Warren.
I am so glad that you have found true friends now… I don't know if I will ever be able to say that I have any such people in my life, but I do think that I am a true friend to others.
Sorta sad, but hey, if Argentina wasn't supposed to cry for Evita, no one should shed any tears for me!!
ooh!! If I get this camera to work, I may take some pictures!! Say hi to your Mom for me :0) !
This was very moving. I hated being the weird kid because I moved during middle school. I am much more fond of the friends I have as an adult.
karahoag.blogspot.com
Amazing the difference in your life when it is filled with true friends.
cheers to all that!
i dont know about your friends..but i do know… you are the best friend any one can have..ever!
I think every kid feels inside like the one from the wrong side of the tracks. Evan the pretty ones with boobs. Especially the bullies.
I remember the girl who bullied me the worst in Junior High…recently I was at a reunion and asked if anyone had ever heard from her again…and was shocked to find out she had transitioned to a man! You just never know what is truly going on inside someone's head.
Oh and I've had plenty of mice and dog poop events- recently! The last one was at an Easter egg hunt I hosted. My friends laughed at the sewage backing up into my yard and the dead rat. Martha Stewart would have been aghast, and that's why I am not friends with Martha Stewart.
but I'm glad to be friends with YOU!
The apartment I used to share with my ex-girlfriend had mice. They were cute. The cats and I miss those mice. And some days, the girlfriend. Not really the girlfriend, just the memory of love. The cats just miss the mice, though. Isabel in particular is very jealous and was quite relieved when we moved out, even if that meant leaving the mice behind. I mean, my current apartment doesn't even have centipedes. But my cats love me so much that they are happy to live with me, with or without the centipedes and mice.
That's sort of how I feel about you, Laurenne.
I'm really good at giving compliments.
we moved around a lot when i was a kid. i remember one time after my first day in a new school, i invited a girl from class over to my house. we still had unpacked boxes everywhere; there was one box full of text books for my older sister's (who was in high school). on the top of the pile was a "sex education" book, and the girl looked at me and asked what it was.
me, having 2 older sisters that tormented me with puberty tales at a very young age, try to explain to this 9 year old girl about the birds and the bees, and that it was a normal part of life.
the next day at school, the smart family was dubbed the crazy sex-monger clan…
little girls are bitches!
you are a badass. and i totally feel you on the kids thing based only on the middle school years…ugh.
Hey Laurenne,
Your post really struck a cord with me. I hated middle school and high school, and was always the shy kid on the outside. Girl bullies are much more brutal than guys, and I know about your aversion to having kids.
Thank goodness for growing into ourselves, and finding people who accept us as we are. Weird shit and all. :)
God you are a self absorbed loser. You and your bloggie friends are completely ate up with yourselves.
So funny and sweet.
I keep having this fantasy that we should all have a giant slumber party via the internet. You know, stay up late and gossip and all watch the same cheesy rom-com at the same time. T'would be fun…
Barbara
The Middle Ages
So nice to know other people get anonymous hater comments as well. I really liked this. There's something hugely comforting about the friends you make through writing, I think you've really captured that here.
I fell in love with that girl in Spain. I thought you had a nice house and a loving Mom…
As soon as I noticed this website I went on reddit to share some of the love with them.
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