have a nice summer!!!! K.I.T!!!!!!

Names I was not allowed to call Chip yesterday: Patches, Grrr Argh, Cap'n, Xander, and Dread Captain Chip (no one would be deathly afraid of "Dread Captain Chip"!) It was all for naught anyway, because Patches, I MEAN CHIP, didn't sport his eye patch for long. All was well in the time leading up to see the eye doctor, and she confirmed that it wasn't a torn cornea (try not to type "corn tornea"), and was, actually, an extreme allergic reaction to (most likely) cat hair. Apparently there's this whole lymphatic layer? Right near your eye? And when it gets really upset? It sort of FREAKS OUT AND STARTS TO COVER YOUR ENTIRE EYE? And then your wife passes out because it's so icky. The end.

We're all fine here now, thanks. I'm up to my eyeballs (HA! NO ALLERGIC REACTIONS HERE!) in some sewing projects, of all things. Which I'll share later, to amuse you.

But first, and instead, today - I've been a little nostalgic, reading Swistle's post yesterday with that mixed tape stuff from her growing-up-hood, and then today Shelly Overlook talked about going to her 20-year high school reunion. So what do I do? I go and pull out a high school yearbook. I KNOW. WHY? Right? My good friend Stacie did this a while back, and it was HILARIOUS to read some of the comments people wrote in her yearbook.

Why should I try to be original, when I'm surrounded by greatness. So, without further delay...


WHIMSY'S YEARBOOK NOTES: FRESHMAN YEAR
* Names haven't been changed to protect anyone (except me, I changed my name back to Whimsy as it should be for this blog. I think your heads would explode if I up and started to refer to myself with my actual given name.) I'm just putting it out there. Enjoy reading notes from the deep and lasting relationships I built when I was 14.



Hi Whimsy! How are you doing? As for me, I'm doing great. I sure am going to miss you over the summer. I'll remember you for peanut butter sandwiches and a great smile. Why peanut butter? Yuk!! Gross!! Sicko!! Stay healthy and keep smiling.
Love,
Lawrence

Whimsy notes: I'm going to be saying this a lot, but I remember Lawrence not at all. But he's going to remember my lunch. And my smile? What? (Punctuation as written in original note.)



Well Whimsy, the year is finally come to an end and I'm real scared. You have three more years of high school left. Enjoy them. It is really the best years of your life. Stay sweet. Good things will come to you! Best of luck with the future and debate. Don't forget me okay?
Love,
Philip
K.I.T (includes his phone number)

Whimsy notes: Again with the beseeching REMEMBER ME. I must have a terrible memory, though I DO remember this dude. Yes, I was in debate. I can't let this one go: THE BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE? First, No. Just a thousand years of NO. And second? How old is this guy? SEVENTY? He isn't out of high school even then, to tell me that it doesn't get BETTER? Because it does, oh it does, does, DOES.



Whimsy! You're really like a cute sweet Dutch girl. And one of the raddest freshman debaters. Never stop reaching for the stars.
Luv,
Brian

Whimsy notes: I guess Dutch girl was some kind of a thing? I guess? I have no idea. Favorite thing: the use of "RADDEST". I'm not going near that "reaching for the stars" thing. It's weird. No one SAYS that. Let alone, HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS.



Whimsy: (written on the cross country page) Here's me and Ed battling it out with ourselves and each other, to make it to the finish line. It's been "different" knowing you, and I hope I encounter you next year even though I'm going to several "honors" classes and you're not. (HA! HA!) Just kidding! Well anyways, have a great summer and be good.
Marcos

Whimsy notes: Um. I think he was trying to be sarcastic and funny, and not totally hurtful and rude. He still uses bad grammar with that "anyways" junk. SO THERE - WHIMSY HAS THE LAST LAUGH.



Dear Whimsy,
Well, you have been a sweetie! Hope you have great success in your next 3 years of school! Have a great summer. See ya!
Love,
Felicia

Whimsy: Clearly another senior. With nothing to say.


Hello Whimsy (KAREN THIS ONE IS FROM YOU!),
It's been quite a year knowing you. I don't mean to make this a form message, it's just that I'm sorta lost. It's been a year and I really appreciate all that you've done for me (even though I tick you off like crazy). I would really like to say thanx and I hope you have a wonderful life in a parallel dimension. I also hope everything between you and XXX and XXX will work out (yeah right). One day we need to get together and actually go to that picnic. And are you going to be free to learn the finest points of tennis (i.e. screaming, yelling, lying, cheating). Have a good, no, great summer. And in fact a great life in spite of us normal people (or as you would say "unimaginative"). Okay I better stop.
With love,
Karen

Whimsy: First? I must've been a TOTAL JERK, with that stuff about me getting ticked off. Karen was a sweetheart. And I DO remember her, and now we're all in contact and stuff through Facebook. Hello Karen! You're FAMOUS. We never did do that picnic, did we? Good to know I was as strange in high school as I am now. Me and XXX and XXX never did work things out. I'm not sad.



Dear Whimsy,
So, this year has finally ended. Another memorable year to add to your "childhood memories". I'll just remind you to have a wonderful, fun summer. You'll be glad you did.
Lucy

Whimsy: Another note from a seventy-year-old high school student.



Dear Whimsy,
Well it's been another terrific year again! Finally we survived freshman year, and next year, we'll be sophomores. YAYYY! Well, hope you have an AWESOME summer! Don't get burned, stay cool! (PS I still remember when you gave me the hamsters.) It seems not that long ago. Time flies.
Friends,
Timothy

Whimsy: It makes it sound like I gave him the HIVES or something. We went to elementary school together. In third or fourth grade I had an excess of hamsters and gave some away. The end.




And so on, with more notes along the lines of "KIT" and "Have a nice summer" and "You were a weird girl". This ends our romp through Whimsy's freshman year of high school. I'm going to go take a shower now and remind myself that I am NO LONGER FOURTEEN YEARS OLD and boy, I couldn't be happier about that.