Ten years ago today (day-wise) I graduated high school (if it was date-wise, it was yesterday).
Friday, June 13, 2003. Yep, we graduated on Friday the 13th! I think it turned out to be lucky, but that might just be me. There are a few times where I feel like
No way it's been ten years, and certainly more times where I can affirm that
Yep, it's definitely been ten years.
I graduated 12th in my class of about 580 - I was really angry at the time that I just squeaked out of the top 10. Does that matter now? I'm going to go with no.
High school was an interesting experience. I joined soccer, of course, and started with the summer league that our varsity coach ran each year with local high schools, but also that he and the junior varsity coaches could scope out incoming players and see how returners were shaping up. I remember being a nervous wreck that first summer game! I wanted to play JV so badly. I made the freshman team (frosh/soph we called it) and made the A squad - there were so many girls that year, that the coach had three different squads (base, A and B). Depending on which squad you were on, you played either the main line up (base) or home (A) or away (B). I was thankful to have that at least, and certainly worked hard.
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| Freshman year soccer. |
Sophomore and junior years I played junior varsity - finally - and was so excited! I don't remember what position I played sophomore year (I think probably midfield), but junior year I found myself playing sweep in back with my then-bestie, Erica, in goal. We were quite the team together and I absolutely loved taking on a new challenge in a new position. We moved together and played varsity together senior year, only I moved back up to half in a starting position on the left side. If I was along our sideline, Coach Bec would regularly shout commands or tell me what to do in Spanish; I still laugh at the thought of totally throwing off some opponents who were shocked that I'd understand every word he'd say to me - especially the girls who spoke Spanish themselves. More on Spanish later!
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| Varsity soccer, senior year. |
My freshman year, by an odd chance because of a class schedule that I needed to change, I also ended up in journalism 1. I intended for it to be an elective, just to get me through, but ended up falling in love with the program. My senior year, I served as Editor in Chief of our paper and even applied to colleges as an intended journalism major. My journalism teacher and I had a deal - I'd go to college, get my degree in journalism, get my Master's in English, get my teaching credential, and by the time I was done with that, he'd be retiring so I could just take this spot. If that was only how it worked! - but it sounded like a good deal to me. I loved writing, and always had, so in the end journalism just seemed to fit.
My best friend my freshman year went to high school across town, at our rival school. She and I knew each other through soccer, having met in 8th grade, and connected over our love of the sport and obsessing over the Backstreet Boys. After freshman year, I went through this phase (that's what we'll call it, yes, a phase) where I wanted to transfer to that school so badly so I felt like I could fit in. Little did I realize, I was making friends and had plenty of people around me that would become some great friends during those years. Oh, fourteen-year-old drama!
Doug and I met freshman year. We were originally in the same English class together (Mr. Lowell, sixth period), and when my classes changed (much like journalism above), I also ended up in his history class. Second semester we also had Spanish and math together and I spent most of the semester wreaking havoc with him in geometry (honors, no less) - either by sticking Cheerios in the ponytail of the girl who sat in front of him (she had some curly hair like nobody's business and would never know) and then laughing when he got caught sleeping against the back wall. We started dating junior year - yep, do that math. It's been a
looooong time. :)
We were required to take two years of a foreign language in order to graduate (or maybe that was just California college admissions standards; now I can't remember), but I ended up taking Spanish all four years. I liked it freshman year, loved it sophomore year, and just felt that it came easy to me, so I stuck with it for two more years. During my sophomore year, my friend Stacy dubbed me "Mexican Megan," because of the ease with which I picked up the language and habits and how grammar worked. I continued to thrive and loved it - it also didn't help that our varsity soccer coach was our Spanish 3 and 4 teacher and I absolutely adored him. Coach Bec was funny, encouraged you in all aspects, and loved making fun of anyone who had those moments. I'll forever remember one test in Spanish 4, where we were learning new animal names and there was a photo of a whale; lots of people insisted that 'whale' wasn't in the chapter's vocabulary list and he looked up and said "Megan knows what it is." While it wasn't in the list, he had specifically pointed it out earlier in the chapter and said to remember it - so I did.
Ballena, whale
. The AP Spanish test was the only AP test I ended up getting credit for as I entered college the next year (ah the irony).
I was one of a handful of kinds that ended up going out of state to college - I think only a couple more because of athletic scholarships and opportunities, but at the time I was bound and determined to get out of California. Little did I know how homesick I'd become and that I desperately wanted home that first freshman semester - I had even looked intro transferring schools, going back home, and starting over there. I really struggled, but of course I couldn't tell that was going to happen. I was just excited about living somewhere new and finding a new home in Arizona!
I was a goody two-shoes in high school. That's still rough to admit, admittedly, but I can at least say it now, when ten years ago I probably wouldn't have told you so. I worked hard at my academics, earning the high grade on the varsity soccer squad senior year, and graduated with above a 4.0 with wieghted grades. I did soccer and the newspaper all four years, and worked my first part-time job the second half of my senior year. I was glad high school was done when it was. I was ready for a new adventure, and was certainly burned out by the time spring of senior year rolled around. My first C (ever, in a class) came in the fall in AP government, and I dropped it in the spring for a lower-level government class just to get through. I don't regret that - even though Doug and I just talked about those classes and how he thinks I could have gotten through. This is coming from the guy who also tutored me in AP calculus because I also hated math - ask me why I took that class, because I still couldn't tell you!
I wish I had more photos to share, but they're all at home at my parents' house. Maybe another day! For now, hope you enjoyed my high school ramblings - more to come, certainly. Our reunion is in October back in California (funny enough, where our grad night celebrations were), and I am hoping to be able to make it. More reminiscing to come then, certainly!
Did you go to your high school's ten year reunion? What were you like in high school?
