Quofda: The Best Of Ages

Quofda asked today, “What was your favorite age of living?

I’m going to spare you guys the whole “right here right now, hell if I would ever go back” bit because God knows I wax philosophical enough about my current issues as it is. The year of 2007 really has been my best and hardest year yet because there have been an infinite number of personal truths uncovered. And, having been blessed with that, I am so excited for what the future holds.

So all that being said and excepted, I have to say that the best years have been 6th and 12th. Basically, with the exception of middle school, they were the years in which I was top dog grade-wise in the respective school. College was pretty great, too, but again when it comes to my adult years I would say that the real-world learning and responsibilities that come with it trumps pure bliss, and then the years just start blending into each other. Age is no longer an issue and it becomes one long journey…

It’s more fun to talk about an era when the biggest possible worry was your homecoming date (and actually? I attended only one high school formal, total).

It was in 6th when a boy first liked me and also when I had my first kiss. [Ba-BAM!! Two quofda’s in one!!] It was on my cheek and immediately afterward the Puerto Rican fellow sent another note to clarify that he wanted to do it on the lips “the next time.” Mind you, even then I was not a girl to play games and clarified it was only going to be on the cheek going in (*cough* Scrivs) via our messengers. But what definitely had set it up was his answering of my note, which had been of the Q&A variety. I even made checkmark boxes to facilitate the ease with which he could answer each question:

  1. Do you think I’m cute?
    [] yes [] no [] maybe
  2. Do you like me?
    [] yes [] no [] maybe
  3. Do you want to skate together at the school skate?
    [] yes [] no [] maybe
  4. Do you want to hold hands?
    [] yes [] no [] maybe
  5. Do you want to go steady with me?
    [] yes [] no [] maybe

It really was bliss. The “yes” box was checked in response to each question and the fate of who would be our first boyfriend/girlfriend in our entire lives was sealed.

During Field Day, a sporting day of sorts in which we competed in track and field type events, I beat Cory Rogers in the first leg of the 6th grade relay. Cory was notoriously known as the class bully, and at a third of the size I had handed off my baton to my teammate before he. I think it was because having made a habit of bike riding with my Dad through the parkways almost every evening after dinner, I had built up decent leg muscle strength.

Can’t forget, I was a popular kid and teacher’s pet. Yeah, it wasn’t necessarily uncool to be teacher’s pet in grade school. Looking back, what further emphasized that experience was the traumatizing, uncool, self-loathing period to come with middle school immediately after.

I don’t remember particularly what was all that great about 12th grade except for the fact that it set up the time in my life where I began to taste opportunity despite a sheltered upbringing. Can’t forget that being a senior is automatic royalty over 75% of the rest of the school. But inherently, you learn the way high school society works by your 4th year in.

In the summer before UCLA, I toured with my youth symphony doing concerts in Spain and Italy. With the drinking age being 16 in Europe, I drank my first glass of wine in Spain. I had caroused the streets with fellow musicians because we needed to find our way back to a certain coliseum. We chanted to a local lady, “el toro?” while making little horn gestures with our fingers to the top of our heads. She had a riot while talking and laughing to herself, walking us to our intended destination.

The fact that I even got accepted into the UC system as an out-of-state applicant took me aback. I hadn’t expected it and had a full music scholarship to the University of Wisconsin as a “fall-back.” When word spread that I would virtually be the only kid going outside of the Midwest for school – and to Cali, no less – it made the last 2 months gravy. It really was the year of potential and promise.