A day in the life of Stacy

old stories

Todd has a tendancy to complain about me and my friends telling old stories. I guess he feels left out or something, or a compulsion to complain. Like I haven't heard stories about him working at McDonalds in high school seven thousand times. I could probably come up with three stories about everybody I know, and they are probably pretty funny. What is better than having a good memory and actually being with a person that shares the same memory? Once you have caught up on stuff you are doing now, the only thing you can do is tell stories or talk about the weather or politics or something equally unfun. My teacher friends always have the best stories, kids do the craziest crap. And because kids do the craziest crap, some of your best stories about yourself, come from the crazy crap you did in your youth. Thus, one should be able to tell stories about anything at anytime, as long as they are funny.

Here's a story I should have made more interesting at the time:
So I was standing outside the door of detention making fun of Nick Withrow for being in detention. When a teacher comes up behind me and says, "Ms. Reed, how would you like to be in there with him?" That's when I got the hell out of there.
What's so funny about that story? Well, me and Nick went to different high schools. The teacher had no business knowing my name. And since she did know who I was, she should have known I didn't go to school there. What was she going to do? Expel me? Perhaps I should have let her put me in detention. Then me and Nick could have had a good laugh, and then I could have gotten the hell out of there, because once again, what were they going to do to me? Call Borgia and have THEM give me detention? Good times. I should have been more creative at the time. I never got a detention at my own school, I wasn't about to ruin my record. I think I just went outside and made fun of him through the window instead of through the door.

posted by Stacy @ 3:51 PM