first impressions

So this is how we met:

I grew up in Chattanooga, Tennessee and said things like "y'all," which caused evil boys in the classroom to call me a hick (even though they arrived at school with cow on their pants and I lived in a city twice the size of Green Bay that was much more culturally diverse). I didn't know anyone, but seventh grade isn't such a terrible time to move, if you fall into the right classroom. First hour: Mr. Bredel and "Calm 'er down!" and grammar books and stories from a moldy textbook. Libby and her howling like a dog, Halloween party, and then my birthday, where I invited everyone I knew, even though I didn't really know anyone.

You sat kitty corner from me, to the rear left of me. You wore red umbros a lot, I think, and adidas. Or maybe red jeans. Teal ones too. And a gold basketball necklace (which you gave to me later on, and I still have it, tucked in a beautiful wood jewelry box an ex gave me that plays a simple song).

I wore snow boots to school, because I hadn't grown up in a place where snow was something you encountered on the walk to the bus, and you still call them "duck boots," which I think is amusing. They were green and tan and a size too big and I would comp through the hallways, unashamed, though a little envious of the trendy adidas.

How long did it take before everyone else fell away? We were part of the same circle so often, with the NFN (notebook for notes) that was confiscated (and our science teacher talked to us about it, and I think now, about how official it all seemed, and now as a teacher myself, how hard it is to corner a student and explain why something was wrong) and the slumber parties and everyone else.

It's strange how clothing can change so much: from red jeans to dog collars to girlish t-shirts. And me, from duck boots to patchwork to teacher shoes. Purple hair and magazines. We always say if we met today, we probably wouldn't be friends. Who knows what sorts of things in the universe must be aligned so you can find that easy comfort with someone?