Rearview Mirror

I was talking to my friend the other day about her past and mine. She called later to let me know about something freaky that happened to her. Like it was a message sent from somewhere. It reminded me of an experience that I had on my final day of college, and thought, “I need to write about that.” Then promptly forgot about it until I was listening (and re-listening and re-listening) to a song by Garrison Starr, one of my favorite musicians of the past year.

I completed my four year college career in a remarkable four year time frame. It really was a big deal compared to most of my peers. Out of the 15 students from our freshman class photography program, only three of us graduated on time, and we were all women (and rommates).

It was the last day of school, graduation day, I guess, and my Chevette was packed and ready to pull off campus. I started to coast down the two lane road as I pulled away from all the dorms rooms I lived in, friends I made and challenged I faced. I reached the beginning of the bridge that crosses the Potomac River into Maryland, the land from which I was transplanted from. I was leaving West Virginia to go home after four years of hard work. I looked up to catch one last glimpse of Shepherd College in my rearview mirror and at the same time I must have hit a bump on that span of bridge. At that moment the rearview mirror fell, in a very undignified way, from the window to the floor. I never did catch that last look…..and to this day I remember that you can’t look back.

Here is Garrison's song that helped me remember:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTicnR-ybWo

Latest Curfew Ever

I was raised in the 70s. That will help with the timeline of this period of my life. While in sixth grade, I had a curfew of12:30am. It was the latest curfew I would ever be granted. I guess the roller skating rink closed at 12:30am which made the decision for my parents. We would always go on Friday nights. Someone’s mom or dad would drive a group of us, drop us off and pick us up again at 12:30am. It was freedom. I still remember the nervousness in walking into the roller rink, the flashing lights, the tying of the rented skates and the hopes that at the couple’s song maybe someone would ask me to skate. We mostly skated in groups of girls and there was a lot of giggling, trips to the bathroom to check our lip-gloss and whispers saying, “He’s here.” Unfortunately, I had a crush on my best friends “boyfriend” rather than on my own. Mine was only a “boyfriend” in name and for one or two couple’s skates. We never did more than hold hands at the roller rink. I would later call him, that summer after sixth grade, and tell him to never ever call me again. But before that happened and we were a ”couple” there was that moment of anticipation and wondering if he would ask me to skate to “Total Eclipse of the Heart”. To this day, when I hear that song on the radio I turn it up to eleven.