tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post9180582087841881095..comments2023-10-23T16:56:24.871-04:00Comments on Wandering the World: Praying for a Hole in the EarthMsTypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10405552178619579820noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-87854219505795240902008-11-14T19:07:00.000-05:002008-11-14T19:07:00.000-05:00School dances, yuck! You know, I never got asked ...School dances, yuck! You know, I never got asked to a dance. I was always paired with someone's date's friend, just to make the group whole. The perpetual third wheel to be paired with the male version of the third wheel. That's my memory of dances! Never went to junior or senior prom... eek! <BR/><BR/>Oh well, chocolate ice cream and a sleepover with my other non-promed girlfriends took care of that!Corinnehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12763599518417369688noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-63136742816143157322008-11-14T12:53:00.000-05:002008-11-14T12:53:00.000-05:00You got me all teary. Because you felt that way. ...You got me all teary. Because you felt that way. And because your friends wanted to do something nice for you. And that Sven was game. <BR/><BR/>I tell you there is just nothing worse than middle school. <BR/><BR/>I don't dance. Ever. Because that would be the thing that would result in laughing. Pointing. And injury on my part :-)Keys to the Magic Travelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15634829064005032831noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-41502004402331128702008-11-14T12:17:00.000-05:002008-11-14T12:17:00.000-05:00I went to a few torturous middle school dances, an...I went to a few torturous middle school dances, and then not one in highschool. My school was HUGE, so no one noticed if you were there or not. Oh, I did go to the Prom. That one night made up for all the drama I'd missed out on the last four years, lol.Laural Out Loudhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07752808766555503042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-29662523465492294362008-11-14T07:07:00.000-05:002008-11-14T07:07:00.000-05:00Oh bless... My heart is breaking... BEEN THERE Don...Oh bless... My heart is breaking... BEEN THERE Done that. That is why i was always the class clown... wanted to keep people laughing with me...<BR/><BR/>But looking back you can see that they all did care about you.... HugsAnonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15669318430348189265noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-41715132276649510242008-11-14T01:42:00.000-05:002008-11-14T01:42:00.000-05:00this tale remind me about those movies which tell ...this tale remind me about those movies which tell about school adventures, English school adventures cuz apparently you are a Briton, you know like harry potter :)Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-67138295742910294182008-11-13T13:26:00.000-05:002008-11-13T13:26:00.000-05:00Well now, at my daughter's middle school, the boys...Well now, at my daughter's middle school, the boys are left alone altogher while the girls dance with each other. Let's rephrase that, they grind against each other until the principal breaks it up. I shed no tears the day my daughter said she thought she was done with the dances.Caution/Lisahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11172990197662644455noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-31288769001732711112008-11-13T10:48:00.000-05:002008-11-13T10:48:00.000-05:00School dances - oh the horror, the horror. Those ...School dances - oh the horror, the horror. Those are hard years, those 12-13-14 years old years!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-6112941292224048192008-11-13T10:20:00.000-05:002008-11-13T10:20:00.000-05:00ahhh, thats kind of a sweet story. School dances ...ahhh, thats kind of a sweet story. School dances are fertile ground for embarrasing moments!Brendahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00062037882359130530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-6344968958152629992008-11-13T10:12:00.000-05:002008-11-13T10:12:00.000-05:00I usually had just made a new boyfriend, or just b...I usually had just made a new boyfriend, or just broke up, right before a dance... either of which actually made the whole socializing/dancing thing really easy. I had a lot of fun, no complaints there. But I can't look back on any of the few pictures that still exist w/o cringing. My mom always picked my dresses, and hair styles.. it was the '80's, and I'd be wearing '50's or '60's or something.. I dunno, her money, I had no choice. I mean, at that age, self-image is hard anyway... it's embarrassing to me now that I didn't stick up for what I wanted... and I wasn't going for obscene, low-cut or anything - I was more punk/goth, but mom wanted PINK frills - ugh! I'd want one thing, mom would make me do something else AND convince me it would be ok - no, it was utter, horrifying dorkness. Dance after dance... you'd think I'd learn. Now, I just shred.Conniehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03667481504650498976noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-89420260595982708232008-11-13T09:05:00.000-05:002008-11-13T09:05:00.000-05:00I hate school dances. And you weren't fat then.I ...I hate school dances. And you weren't fat then.<BR/>I went to an all girls' school and, if we were taller, we had to learn how to dance like boys--slow sextrots etc. Ugh is right.<BR/>...and then there were all those high school dances I supervised. I won't even go there!<BR/>merthyrmumAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-22066520936902634962008-11-13T04:43:00.000-05:002008-11-13T04:43:00.000-05:00OH ... how embarrassing and a bit sad really. Remi...OH ... how embarrassing and a bit sad really. Reminds me of how awful certain parts of my youth were...<BR/><BR/>Well done you for being brave enough to share!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17132364.post-49057041910926021432008-11-13T03:40:00.000-05:002008-11-13T03:40:00.000-05:00Ugh. School dances. My gut wrenches for you.My v...Ugh. School dances. My gut wrenches for you.<BR/><BR/>My version was the cool new kid, Rodger. Everyone wanted to date Rodger. He was goth, before we knew what goth was. At the first dance we attended together, I miraculously got up the nerve to ask him to dance. His reply:<BR/>"you want to dance?"<BR/>"yea"<BR/>"well, have fun"<BR/><BR/>All the snickering and oh!s still echo as I tried to play it off like nothing happened. Where's that hole in the earth?<BR/>(yes, I know I'm burying my embarrassing moment in your comments)Christine Gramhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13783180729146518061noreply@blogger.com