The Good Old Days?

I attended an engagement party last night for a lovely young couple, ages 21 and 23. It always amazes me when I attend something like this or a 21st, where there are a group of young people together drinking and socialising. I never feel that much older than them, but in reality I'm almost 17 years older than them. 17 years. That's a whole other teenager's life.

When I was 17, I was still in college, was an average student for any subject, except shorthand typing, which was my favourite and the only subject that I consistantly scored in the late 90's percentage-wise with any exam. It was my saving grace. I read shorthand books while sitting on the toilet, I read shorthand and wrote it during english class, it was my bedtime story at night before I fell asleep. I appeared to be obssessed with it. I was one with those strokes on the page. I was awarded certificates and trophies had my name engraved on them because of this wondrous subject.

I was a good teenager (funny that huh? good and teenager going together like that). Unfortunately my older sister was not classified as one...my mum was called down to the principal's office at the college on many occasions to try getting her daughter on the straight and narrow. My father was often present at these meetings, but my mother didn't always tell him, for fear it would start another yelling argument and threats of boarding school for getting into trouble once again, and thus mum would attend alone.

After having to deal with my sister and then me being the wee angel that I was *cough*, my father continued to dub me as "the good one" (which is not to be confused with 'the chosen one'). Ok, I never did get into the amount of trouble my sister did, in fact I was barely any trouble at all, but I was also quieter about what I got up to and so my parents had to wonder what, if anything, I was doing.

I lost my virginity at the age of 17 to a 23 year old irishman I'd met and known for only 9 days. I met him while standing waiting for a taxi late New Years Eve with my best friend at the time. Two boys pulled up in a car, the door swung open "Ladies, can we offer you a lift somewhere?" Jesus, when I think back to that time now, I wonder what the hell I was thinking.....but considering I was 'the good one', I did tend to do the occasional thing that I knew my parents would be horrified to find out about, it was the rebel in me coming out. "Sure, but only if you take me home so I can wish my parents a Happy New Year first" (I am nothing if not a dutiful and loving daughter).

They took me home, I ran in to kiss both my parents and ran out saying i was staying the night at my girlfriend's. (oh god, not THAT line?!). Jumped back in the car, rushed to my friend's house and did a similar thing, I went in with her and hugged and kissed her Mum Happy New Year (I was nothing if not a supportive and convincing best friend). The boys took us to Mount Victoria. Now for those of you who don't know Wellington at all....this is basically one of the highest peaks in Wellington City and thus a lookout, and during my teens, a major makeout spot. (my skin is starting to crawl and I'm feeling very seedy writing this lol).

My girlfriend disappeared off god only knows where with one chap and I was left wandering around the lookout with the other. Seemed a nice enough man...we just talked and to be honest he wasn't going to get much out of me. Looking back now, I think he may've felt I was a tease....I mean to say, what girl doesn't just get picked off the street like that and then NOT put out? Anyway, was all new ground to me, I'd never been picked up like that before, so I was going to play by my rules as much as possible. It was an interesting night actually...we did a lot of talking, about families, about school, his work etc...he never seemed to be in any rush to 'get on with things'. I was relaxed but always wary (fat lotta good being wary was gonna do me on a dark night with a stranger....a black belt in a martial art would've helped more).

Short story to long boring dialogue....my girlfriend eventually returned to where I could see her....we were then taken back to my girlfriend's home....I kissed my new irish friend goodnight and happy new year (I am nothing if not one to get into the mood of celebrating annual occasions), gave him my phone number and got out of the car.

Later that night my girlfriend told me that the guy she was with actually said to her "so, do you want do to it?" I laughed so hard after hearing that, I ended up choking on hysteria and she had to smack me several times on the back.

Thinking back to the silly things that amused me, not to mention putting myself in a potentially dangerous situation like that, makes me shudder at the thought of my boys getting any older.

Please don't make me feel I'm the only silly teenager that's done something like that....come on you lot, drag up those memories and give's some of them.

HEY! WE CAN PRETEND WE'RE THE BLOGGER BRAT PACK! weeeeeeeeeeeeeee!