13 and in a new school

I was 13 and starting the 8th grade in a new school. My Father drove me to the new school to register on the first day. He was running late and had no idea that the traffic up the mountain would be so heavy. When we got there, they quickly registered me and walked me down to the gymnasium/auditorium where the whole school was in assembly.

As I was coming down from the main office I walked in to the gym on the second floor and had to walk done a loooooong metal staircase to be able to take a seat with the rest of the students.

I can remember this as it were yesterday. I had just moved from Miami and was all decked out in the latest fashion. I had a big lace bow in my hair (a la Madonna) a long straight cotton skirt, a of the shoulder knit top (a la Flashdance) and pastel colored tank top underneath, and pink suede oxfords that we actually mules. The accessories were the kicker, gummy bracelets, neon wayfarers’, giant plastic earrings, and since I had no school supplies, 1 pen with hot pink feathers on it and 1 retro tin covered notepad, that was a replica of a Rice Crispi’s cereal box, tres chic!

I start to make my descent (I was alone, my Dad stayed in the office filling out paperwork) and the first step I placed on the staircase made a loud “CLANG” as did every step there after. The mules and the metal staircase, not a good combination. Clink, clang, clink, clang, every single head turned and looked up at me. I clutched on to the note book in my hand, my knuckles white. The some wise ass said: Is she coming to school or to have breakfast? TOTALLY AWKWARD!
And the crowd roared: bwa-hahah-hahaha. I turned bright red, reached the bottom and quickly found an empty chair. It wasn’t even 8:30 am yet, the torture had just begun. After the first day, I can say those were the best years of my life, I never had so much fun or got in so much trouble.

Oh, TOVA DARLING, thank you for embracing our awkwardness...