The Retrospect Project 1: Carrie M.

If you missed the introduction post for the The Retrospect Project* feature, please catch up here.

I am very pleased to have Mrs. Carrie for our first guest writer on the Retrospect Project. Allow me to introduce her, will you? 

This is Carrie toasting to the fact that she's no longer in middle school.

Carrie is a busy blogger. You can read more from her at The Life and Strife of a Military Wife and From the Mat Up, her yoga blog.

But more on the middle-school Carrie:

Me: Carrie, what CD or tape would we most likely find in your radio in middle school?

C: Regretfully, I must say 98 Degrees. I liked their muscles.

Me: Tell us a fashion trend you participated in wholeheartedly.

C: Sweater vests were cool for about a month.

Me: What was your go-to yearbook sign off?

C: Most likely a heart with my name underneath. The "i" dotted with a heart as well.

Me: Sum up your middle school experience in ONE word.

C: Distressing.

Now listen to her story. 'Cause she's a yogi.

See?

"Out of the 19 years of school, seventh grade had to be the worst year of my educational experience (not to mention, life). I was short, wore glasses, and had an older brother just one year ahead of me. I cannot tell you how many times I was called 'J.P.’s little sister' or told that I looked just like him (Thanks, you just told me I look like a 13 year old boy.) But even that wasn’t as bad as the embarrassment a 12 year old can feel when she falls flat on her face.

Gym class at CMS was dreaded, especially for me. I hated everything about it but one thing: Scooter Day. That’s right, one whole day devoted to riding these four-wheeled pieces of plastic that were only a few inches from the ground. Everyone loved scooter day, and everyone wanted to be first to gym class to get the best scooter. My friends and I had a pact: Whoever got to class first would get the rest equally as nice scooters. 

Gym class was located across campus, behind the high school. It was already intimidating enough walking through all the “big” kids, but my friends had nominated me that day to be the scooter saver. I was honored that they would choose me, but wary because there was a huge crowd of HIGH SCHOOLERS that I would have to push through. However, I was a savvy seventh grader, so I decided to run on the ground beside the sidewalk and cross onto the sidewalk at the last minute to narrowly dodge anyone over the age of 14. It was brilliant! I couldn’t believe how possible I had made an impossible task.

After formulating my plan and noticing fellow classmates on their way to gym, I broke into a sprint. I ran with all my heart, and I actually think Vangelis’s “Chariots of Fire” was playing in the background. I visualized the best scooter and I knew it would be mine that day. Then, it was time for the crossover. I leaped with great faith, but instead of sticking my landing, my legs became tangled and I fell like a sack of potatoes. IN FRONT OF ALL THE HIGH SCHOOLERS! I was mortified and bleeding. 

I did the only thing I knew to do… I got back up and started running. But instead of getting my coveted scooter, I had to get my elbow and knee bandaged. No scooter that day, and my friends didn’t even care to check on me. It took weeks worth of Neosporin to get my wounds to heal and a hell of a lot more time to forget the incident. I still have the scars from that day, but as for those other hussies I called friends, they’re history."

We've got your back NOW, Carrie. (those trollops)

Watching my step,
Ms. P


*Originally called Blast from the Past