For the past couple of weeks, the Buckle household has been some sort of a movie theatre of ancient times. Dad’s in the process of converting all of our home videos (family gems, for sure) into the DVD format, mostly because VCR tapes are way too primitive in this modern day and age. Gotta keep up with the times, people. Anyways, we’ve got hours and hours of tapes that need to be DVD-ified…. so, our television has been in a constant play-back mode. Need a break from homework? Grab some popcorn and drop into the family room for an enlightening viewing experience! The videos encompass the years from my actual birth (yes, gross) to adolescence, and they are, of course, extremely entertaining. Besides learning that at the age of three Kendra sounded like a Mongolian sea urchin when she erupted into her impromptu interpretations of “Ba, Ba Black Sheep”, I found that I was quite the boisterous young child and that I liked to talk to myself. I was really sly when I pulled the fake-cry-with-tears act to try to get Kendra in trouble for bossing me around… or so I thought. Also, another piece of crucial information gleaned from the videos: my 5 year old face looks exactly the same as my 16 year old face. Double yay for baby cheeks.
And, making a complete 180 here, I’ll tell a little about the mucho school activities that I experienced this week. First off, I have officially been inducted into the prestigious National Honor Society as of last night. Basically it was a fancy-schmancy ceremony that involved congratulation speeches, candles on fire, and an awkward two minutes standing on stage in front of a million parents and school peers. Too bad I don’t have a picture for evidence; mom didn’t even bring a camera. (I don’t think I was smiling on stage anyways, probably out of embarrassment. STAGEFRIGHT!). Nevertheless, being a member of NHS is an honor. It’s highly selective, and only about 80 kids in the school are bestowed membership. Just another little accomplishment to jot down on my college application… you know the drill.
Today was “class competition” at school. We were all instructed to wear our class colors, so I donned my green Juicy jacket in respect of the Junior class color. Our school’s ASB concocted this supposedly ‘exciting’ event in an attempt to bolster PV school spirit, but I’d say that it was a fail. Besides the fact that it took a huge chunk of time out of my English class (score), I couldn’t really see any point to the whole shindig. All 1800 of us PV’ers were herded into the gym, which was gaudily decked out in all four class colors. They tried to make us cheer while we watched a bunch of kids make fools of themselves during the class competition games (dressing up in ski gear, running in circles, eating rice-baby powder mixtures). Amid the chants of “Go Home Juniors” from the seniors and even SOPHOMORES, it reinforced my belief that our class is the most hated at the school. And I felt incredibly ripped off when, looking at the gym wall listing of all straight-A students, I had suddenly been re-named as “Jenna Golden”. To be frank, I don’t even think there’s a Jenna Golden at our school.
*Title of post credit to the lyrics of “Re: Stacks” by Bon Iver