Flashback Friday

I'm sure I'm not the only person this has happened to. I have a few minutes so I'm lurking and clicking through a friends blog list, when I come to a page and think, "Man, that chick looks familiar." Then I read her latest entry, which happens to be a response to a tag. Yeah, that chick is familiar. We went to the same Jr. High. And she was "going out" with the boy I had a crush on for three years. She was a cheerleader. I was not. He called me "Yanerd." I hated her without knowing her. That was ten years ago. Ah, those were the days.

It was the summer between eighth and ninth grade. We were having sleepovers AT LEAST weekly and falling in love with Patrick Swayze and Shauna's high school brother. Can you guess which movie?


I was over Peaches by President's of the United States being my favorite song. O.K. I never really got over that. I still LOVE that song.

Tickle Me Elmo turned two and was still a novelty. And I still didn't have one. That's since been corrected by a sister who knows me all too well.


Mrs. Nussum hadn't brought me to her office to measure the length of my shorts for a few years now. Not since my mom cussed her out and told her "this school has worse problems than my honor student's shorts!" She checked-me out for the day, cementing herself a place as the coolest Mom ever in my friend's eyes. Looks like I may be facing the problem with my own daughter. I still maintain that the shorts are long enough, it's just our legs are longer.


And I started cutting up Pottery Barn and Pottery Barn Kids magazines for "some day."


I'm still waiting for the day that I can move in to that house they take pictures of and I drool over. In the mean time, I create my own Pottery Barn Kids knock-offs with a little paint, some fabric scraps, and some hot glue.


I've got a bigger project currently underway involving six yards of this fabric and a staple gun. Hopefully soon I will be posting pictures of Little Miss' completed nursery. No pressure Dad, but it'd be really cool to have a nursery with a crib.

I was kidding about those being the days. It was fun, but I'd never want to go back to days of sobbing hysterically about who I'm sitting next to in Geography and "does he like me?" Now, if that 'certain someone' doesn't call, I know he'll be home by six-thirty for dinner. And I get to have sleepovers on a daily basis.