Over the course of our lives we (presumably) go through many "awkward stages" like the awkward puberty stage, the awkward boys are icky/girls are icky but why do I like them so much stage, and the awkward the internet is new and weird and I have to have a new and weird email address to prove it.
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An almost accurate representation of my ballet days. |
This conversation topic came up today while my boyfriend and I watched one of our friends unsuccessfully try to remember which of his six email addresses went with his Steam account. Drew, the non-forgetful elitist he is of course very loudly wondered how Danny could ever forget his email address. Of course the answer is that Danny has "like, six!" I too followed that trend, most of them some variant of my name and only two that I use regularly. All the rest have been lost to spam or forgotten emails, and one, my first email address ever, has been left behind due to the sheer embarrassment of telling folks that me, the 19 year old was once 12 and had "balletsuperstar" as their msn username. Of course, this is now information that they know since I vehemently denied them knowledge, but in the effort of blogging truthfully, here you go. Just to be clear, I was no superstar. I was the gangly girl with bad feet who abandoned the art after a year, but I did enjoy it, even if it led to an embarrassing/awkward email address.
Life is full of those awkward moments and things, though. And that's one of the best parts of growing up. Those awkward stages of life provide the best stories. One of my best male friends at Oroville High School was my first crush. So back in middle school before I was as social as I am today, I would sit in art class staring wistfully at this tall, in my eyes beautiful, boy and hope that someday he'd talk to me. And then one day he came up to me and the first words ever spoken in our friendship were "why do you stare at me so much?" There was the awkward moments all through high school where two people had to finally admit that they liked each other when everyone else had been shipping each for months, the first kiss, who DOESN'T have an awkward first kiss story?
My point is that later on, after you're through with all these rites of passage you have almost a book worth of awkward stories to pass on to others when times get tough or to think on when your day is less than sunshine-y.
So here, in this all to post where I don't think I really made a clear point, all I can say is take advantage of all those awkward moments. Own that awkwardness, reader. Because later on its going to be one helluva story.
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