This has prolly been done before, but what the hey. I was reminded of this tonight while wathcing “I Love the 70s” on VH1. Now, I was about 10 or 11 at the height of the disco craze. I was going to a dance at school. My first dance! Disco! Yay! I was set, decked out in my lime green polyester blazer, shoes with a bit of a lift ( 4 inches? 8? God, who even knows? ) bell bottom pants, even a shirt that was unbuttoned to expose my (smooth) manly chest. Look in the mirror-stylin! I’m ready to go!.
But wait…something’s missing…
AH-HA! I need some jewelry around my neck! Unfortunately, I don’t have any, but damn it, I want some. What to do, what to do… I get a brilliant idea! I went and ( I still can’t believe I did this, 25 years later I’m sitting here laughing my ass off, out loud, at how stupid I was, I can’t tell this story without having hysterics ) I took the chain off of the rubber stopper for the tub!!! ( Thank God I left the stopper itself at home. Hmm, if I did it again now, I’d wear the stopper ) Looping it around my neck, I connected the ends and viola! 1 necklace! Off I went to the dance, absolutely convinced that I was cooler than penguin shit.
I’d pull my shorts into my ass crack and go walking around public (malls, parks, grocery stores). I can’t think of any apparent reason for why i did that–you should have asked me 15 years ago.
I found a (chicken) egg outside, and tried to hatch it. I made a nest and everything. Not being a very graceful child, though, I ended up with egg on my shorts.
When I was 4 or 5, I’d often don a pair of rubber ducky galoshes when I was going shopping with my Mom. Only thing was, I’d wear them with shorts/tank top AND wear a pair of plastic vampire teeth. Made for some…interesting…photo entries in the family album…
[sub]I only went downhill from there.[/sub]
I used to make magazines. I guess what I was making were 'zines without even knowing that term existed. They were filled with cartoons, jokes, and stories, all “homemade”. I got it into my head that I should charge money for these 'zines and that’s when my friends stopped reading them.
That’s not so bad, but I cringe at what the content probably was. I was 8 or 9 at the time. I hope no one has any of them lurking in a box in their basement or something. Ugh.