Dear 7th-Grade-Zoot,

The most important thing that I, the 32-year-old You, want to say is this: Ms. Dewine will be the worst teacher you will ever have. It only goes up from here. I promise. She is not nice to you (and is super nice to all the other girls, WTF?) but you will have a long list of teachers you love from here on out. And they’ll love you. Some of them will touch you in ways you’ll never forget. Wait. That sounded bad. They don’t actually touch you. I’m freaking you out now, aren’t I?

Anyway - I know she makes you cry at night, but don’t let her. Don’t give her that power. She doesn’t deserve it. Screw her.

Another thing: All of those research papers you’re assigned to write this year that are giving you your first taste of anxiety attacks? They aren’t that important. Trust me. Let your Dad help you, don’t resist him so much. He’s smart, you know. If you would just drop the attitude you might learn from him. And quit with the procrastinating already. They are stressing you out because you’re waiting until the last minute, dumbass. Stop that shit.

Don’t wear the purple eye shadow. That stupid teacher will call you out about it in front of the whole class and you’ll be embarrassed and stand in the bathroom washing your face crying. I would love to tell you, “Tell her to suck it!” but I know you won’t. So instead - just don’t wear it. Avoid the embarrassment. That way the adult you can quit having damn nightmares about it already.

You know that weird attraction you have to skater boys? Especially Ryan - who will eventually be your first real boyfriend? Keep with that theme in your life. It’s a good theme. Skater boys are cute. You end up marrying a really hot skater boy.

Embrace the curls. You can’t fight them. Learn to love them.

Stop crying. You cry a lot at night. You feel lonely. But, the things is, you’re really not lonely. You’re just hormonal and feeling a little out of place right now. Talk to your Dad more about it - he ends up giving you some really good advice later in life, once you finally start asking him advice.

Most importantly - it only goes up from here. You will make a lot of mistakes, but even at your darkest moments, you will never feel as sad as you do right now. Let that give you peace. Once you embrace your differences, you’ll feel much better. Quit trying to fit in, and just be you. You aren’t going to be as pretty as Caroline, as loved as Mollie, or as funny as Dana or as smart as Teal. But that’s okay. You don’t need to look at them all and feel sad. Instead, be happy that you aren’t exactly like them. Be happy about who you are.

Maybe, if you start learning these things now, the 32-year-old-You will be able to finally stop being so insecure too.

Love,
32-year-old-Zoot

(Thanks to Amy and Amy for the idea.)

LilZ starts back to school in less than two weeks. Can you believe that crap? That summer is already over? How did that happen and where was my vacation? When did I relax and enjoy the break? When did he relax and enjoy the break? How is it that I now have a 7th-grader? Am I going to survive this year?

7th grade was my worst year in school. I had a teacher who I felt like hated me, I had a principal/science teacher who assigned us research papers that required trips to the University Library. Example: “Comparative Anatomy of Invertebrates: The Nervous System.” Yes, I had to write that paper in the 7th grade, if you can believe it. Talking about being baptized by fire into the world of research. I still have nightmares over that paper. Not to mention the one about Wild Boars or the Scopes Monkey Trials. It was like I was in hell and Satan really enjoyed complex bibliographies.

I also had a tough time with my physical self. My hair was getting curlier and curlier and I had no clue what to do with it. So I pulled it back all the time. My acne was developing (Kids in my after-school-care program actually called me Pizza Face. So Original.), I was wearing braces with the headgear, and I had those awesome black glasses that Judith Light wore in “Who’s The Boss.” I didn’t know anything about fashion, partly because I wore a uniform everyday and didn’t have to think about it. But I was getting old enough to WANT to understand fashion, so my lack of any style was depressing.

So - this is the year I’ve been fearing for LilZ. Luckily, he’s totally good-looking and confident so he shouldn’t have anywhere near the meltdown I did. He gets 7 teachers instead of just one so if one hates him it won’t matter. He is funny and smart and has loads of friends. He is even doing this awesome elective that was offered to him after he auditioned for it, and it will put him in the spotlight a little this year. He will probably look back on this year as his favorite - which just shows how different he and I were at the same age. And this gives me hope for his future.

If there is anything I am thankful for the most - is that even though LilZ and I are a lot alike in temperament and personality - he is very different from the 12-year-old version of me. He is simply cool and that is the exact opposite of what I was in 7th grade. Hopefully he is very grateful for this difference, it will hopefully allow him to complete Junior High will far less offensive nicknames than I did.

LilZ was eating some Cool Ranch Doritos and I said, “When I was your age, my summer daycare took us to this water-slide park and I always got those chips and I loved them SO MUCH.” And he said, “Back when you wore ‘Hoppin’ for God’ shirts?”

Huh? What the hell is that kid talking about?

Then I remembered - “OH! You mean my ‘Jesus Makes Me Hoppy’ shirt!”

See - when I was a youngin’ - I went to this huge daycare in the summer. We would go on field trips every day and when we went to places with a lot of people, they’d make us wear daycare shirts so they could spot us in the crowd. Most of the time they were simple shirts with the name of the church on them. When I was in 7th grad, however, they decided they’d give the shirts more personality. Or some such nonsense. So - they made us wear shirts that were aqua and sleeveless with huge neon-green frogs on them that said, “JESUS MAKES ME HOPPY.”

Yes - I was in the crux of my puberty angst and being forced to wear amphibious religious paraphernalia. It was my worst nightmare as a 7th grader and I bring it up often when LilZ is complaining about his life. I’ll say, “WHATEVER. Nothing is worse than trying to meet cute boys at the arcade in a ‘Jesus Makes Me Hoppy’ t-shirt!” Or, “You think that’s bad? You should try making a neon Jesus frog look COOL.”

Speaking of horrible singers…

I went to Catholic school for all 12 years of my childhood/teen education. In the K-8 school I went to, our grades went to mass at least three times a week. I loved going to mass (Me? I know!) because I luv luv loved to sing the hymns. There were several that were my favorites: “Lord of the Dance,” “Eagle’s Wings,” and “Here I am, Lord.” (If you were born and raised Catholic, you probably know the last two by heart.) I would belt out those lyrics in church like I was some sort of choir leader. Hell, I would sing those songs in the shower, I loved them so much.

One day, when I was nine (I remember this so vividly it is sad), my friend Michelle turned to me in the middle of mass and said, “You know you can’t sing, right? That you have an awful voice? Right? You know that and you’re just being funny. Right?”

I remember the immediate heart-ache I felt. What? ME? Can’t sing? ME? I immediately blew it off like, Of course I knew that, I’m just being funny! but on the inside I was replaying the last few years in my head. Were my classmates talking bad about me like I had heard them talk about other girls who couldn’t sing? When I joined in and mocked the bad singers were they all secretly mocking me? I was devastated.

As the years went on, I got plenty of opportunities to hear myself sing. And let me tell you: Michelle had been TOO KIND. I have an atrociously awful voice. Terrible. Painful. Dreadful. I can not carry a tune in a bucket. I have coped with this over the years and will still sing along with music that I love. (Especially Indigo Girls…I just can’t resist.) I usually will tell everyone around me, “I know I can’t sing. Don’t worry. But I’m going to anyway.” And then they all run away screaming with their fingers in their ears.

Seriously. I can NOT sing.

My point? This is why this phase of the American Idol auditions are so dreadful. I know what it’s like to honestly think you have an amazing voice, only to find out you are wrong. Dead wrong. Now, I would hope someone would have stepped in and told me the truth if I had mentioned American Idol, but if they didn’t? I know the pain of hearing the insult from one girl, whispered in my ear. I can not imagine hearing it from a panel of judges in front of the entire country. It makes me want to puke just thinking about it.

So, yeah. Sometimes people don’t realize how bad they suck.

Now - aren’t you totally dying to hear me sing now? Especially a church song? I know you are.

MrZ and I were talking a lot this weekend about how life has changed for us in the last 5+ years since we graduated college and moved to Huntsville. Sometimes it seems like time has flown by, but other times, the day I moved to Huntsville seems like a million years ago.

When I moved to Huntsville in August of 2001, I was only 3 months out of my graduation. MrZ and I were dating, but living in different cities. I was still on the outs from my long-time best friends Betsy and Stacey due to some outrageously bad decisions I made a few years prior that had come back to haunt me. I wasn’t even considering life married or with more kids. LilZ was little. I never thought about writing a diary online.

I look back on that and realize how many things are in my life today that make me soooo happy. It’s funny, because I was happy back then too, but if I imagine taking away any of the current joys I think I’d be miserable. I just didn’t know how happy I could be back then. I didn’t realize what a difference a good marriage was going to make in my life, how happy I’d be to have my friends back, how much joy a simple blog could bring.

I’m a lucky girl. That’s really all I wanted to say. I’m a very happy, lucky girl. I’m proof you can make giant mistakes and do really stupid things and still recover to live a reasonably normal and boring life.