The Wheels on the Bus

The steps leading onto the towering yellow bus seemed huge compared to my twelve-year-old body. I stretched to take one stair at a time and was nervous to find a seat with a friend. I could feel the butterflies dancing in my stomach and wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or the anxiety of the unknown.

The voices of my peers spilled out of the windows as we made our way down the highway, trading lunches, seat hopping, and eagerly anticipating our arrival at the Science Centre.

My stomach turned somersaults.

Outside the rain created puddles, perfect for jumping in, and the line up to get off of the bus lagged while my classmates took their time splashing around, ignoring the huge buildings looming overhead and the big city we had just arrived in.

I needed to get off of the bus.

The butterflies flew up from the bottom of my stomach and reached for my throat, and as they lunged forward so did I. Pushing my peers to the side I sprang for the stairs to fresh air but it was too late, the excitement, anxiety, and butterflies inside wanted out!

With my body now out of my control I threw up in front of all of my classmates.

I felt one of my friends mothers take my shoulders, brush my hair back, and lead me to a bathroom. She played the role of my mother all day, while her child participated in the activities and I couldn’t leave the bathroom.

The ride home was a blur.

Exhausted, pale, and embarrassed I closed my eyes and prayed that we arrived back at the school quickly. I missed my mother madly and wanted to go to bed.

I wanted to escape the sounds of my squealing friends, the stories of fun, and everything I missed.

I felt cheated.

And I haven’t been back to the Science Centre ever since.

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Senior Hottie

Today is a very important day in Bloggy land friends!

Today I’m linking up with Liz from A Belle a Bean and a Chicago Dog for a new Meme called:

That’s right!

We’ve dug out our old senior photo’s and we’re posting them.

I had to go back guys…. way back because I was lookin’ too fine during high school prom.

But I won’t disappoint.

I’m posting a picture from 1994, grade 8 grad.

The glasses?

I loved them. I begged my father for them.

Werk it!

Leighann

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Reality of Growing up

When I was in high school I took a careers test.

It consisted of several questions in order to gain an understanding of who I was, where my interests lie, and what career path I might follow.

In high school I had no idea.

It told me I would be a janitor.

This news didn’t shake me up, it didn’t weigh heavily on my shoulders, and I didn’t feel promised to that job.

I expected I would graduate, go to college, find a job, work.

I would fall in love, get married, buy a house, have babies, and live happily ever after.

That was the natural order that was promoted by our guidance counsellors and our families.

There weren’t classes on reality.

Discussions regarding the astronomical cost of schooling, housing, food, and books for college.

The enormous stress we might feel as students in a new city.

The drop out rate.

How many jobs we would have to work at once in order to barely get by.

Late nights, stupid decisions, broken hearts, lost friendships, mistakes.

Babies before marriage.

The bills.

The bills.

Our relationships and the importance of communication.

Love.

Had I attended these classes it might have made me more aware and prepared me, but life would have still continued.

That is the natural order.

Leighann

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