This is probably going to be long and babbly. So I apologize in advance.
Back in 1991, I was applying for colleges. I went to a college-prep private Catholic high school. One of the best in NYC. I was prepared academically to take on the trials and tirbulations of college life. So as we were applying, we would have mandatory meetings with the school guidance counselors to keep up on track, and, well…guide us.
I was assigned Elizabeth Reid. Ms. Reid was probably pushing 60 back then and hated her job, kids, and puppies (I assume). She was mean, nasty, and generally unpleasant. While other students had great gudiance and advice from their counsleors, I was destined to receive various nasty pearls of wisdom from Ms. Reid.
Anyway, I am sitting across from Ms. Reid in her office, in front of her, were two folders - one was my academic record, and the other, well…was the disciplinary folder. That one was WAY thincker than the first one. I was really smart and had good grades, but liked to raise hell. And my record showed it. This is kind of how the conversation with Ms. Reid went:
GypsyGirl fidgets and smiles uncomfortably, while Ms. Reid glares at her over her glasses
Ms. Reid: So. You are applying for colleges.
Me: Yes.
Ms. Reid: Why?
Me: Excuse me?
Ms. Reid: Why are you applying to colleges?
At this point, I paused. I didn’t really know. I knew all my friends were applying, and that I would be the first one ever in my family to go to college. This probably should have been a telling moment for me, but I was all caught up in the college-hype insanity.
Me: Isn’t that what I should be doing?
Ms. Reid: You? No. I don’t think so. I don’t think you are college material. Have you considered a trade school?
Me: A TRADE school? Like…go be a plumber or something? What the hell kind of advice is THAT?
Ms. Reid: No, not a plumber. Perhaps you should consider beauty school.
Me: WHAT?! How DARE you!!! babbleyellventcomplain
It caused a shitstorm. I told my parents. My parents called the school. All hell breaks loose. Nice. I showed HER.
It took me 8 years and 3 colleges to graduate. I was too bored and couldnt be bothered with all that - education. I stopped and started, getting crappy office jobs in between stints at school. I finally graduated in May of 2000 with a BA in English. I got crappy jopb after crappy job, hating every one of them after a few months. I couldn’t figure out WHY is was so miserable. The only time I was happy was when I was fooling around with my poor unsuspecting friends, makeup, hair dye and scissors. And it never occurred to me. Not even once.
I was laid off my most recent crappy office job in mid-March. I was applying for work, going on interviews, knowing that I was going to hate whatever job it was that I got in a matter of a few short months. I was sitting on the couch, depressed and miserbale at my future prospects when I saw it. And it was like a religious revelation. I couldn’t believe it had taken me almost 15 years to figure it out. I wrote down the number, and with shaky hands, made the call. I went on the tour, filled out some paperwork, and waited a few days. Before I knew it, i was enrolled.
So at the ripe ole age of 34, I threw caution to the wind, jobs be damned, and I enrolled in Aveda’s Cosmetology program at the Aveda Institute in Orlando. The sheer thought of it makes me giddy, and in honor of my new found path, I dyed my hair an obnoxious shade of unnatural red to remind me that I will never, EVER have to go back to doing a job I hate ever again - ya know, the jobs where unnatural yet fabulous hair is frowned upon. I will be doing something that I love, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.
So I start on Tuesday, and graduate in 11.5 months.
I could slap myself for not thinking of this YEARS ago. :smack:
It looks like Ms. Reid was actually right, and NOT being a bitch. She apparently saw something all those years ago that I didn’t see in myself. So, Ms. Reid, wherever you are, I apologize for calling you a bitchface. You were right. I was wrong.
I should send her cookies or something, if she’s even still alive. I wonder if she’d remember me? 