The universe decided I should go back to high school

Seriously. There's no other way to explain it.

We all know people who loved high school, right? They thought high school was awesome — and let's face it — high school does play a critical role in your formative years. But even though I recognize high school's importance, my attitude toward the whole experience was (and is) essentially this:

Meh.

Sure, I had a good time. I did drill team, band, National Honor Society, the school newspaper, and all that stuff. I went to the dances (or, more importantly, to ogle the opposing teams at McDonald's BEFORE the dances) and made some great friends. But drama and other garbage piled up, so by the time graduation came around, I was ready to go.

(Okay, let's be honest — I was ready to go MONTHS before, but still...) 

Six years later, I can see having the universe give me a little jab in the ribs — "Hey, Jackie, remember high school? Yeah. High school!"

But the universe suddenly decided I needed to go back to 2005 not once, but three times.

Three times!

Usually when movies or books send their characters backward, it's so they can learn some important lesson. Er... I didn't learn anything. So that was a big, fat universe fail. BUT, on the other hand, it did make for a weird month...

Two of the high school reminders came courtesy of my younger brother, who will graduate this year. First of all, he was named the high school's General Sterling Scholar, which meant that he needed to put together a book showing his high school activities. At the Sterling Scholar competition, he'll present his book to the judges and they'll interview him as he competes for a scholarship.

Now, I was the school's English Sterling Scholar back in 2005. Since my main focus was journalism, I made my book look like a newspaper. I spent hours, and hours, and hours laying out that book, and it was pretty dang awesome.

In the end, though, it was all for naught, since the daughter of the lady organizing the competition won. Nepotism stinks. It was a major bummer.

But hey, I'm a glutton for punishment! When my brother started talking about laying out his book, I offered to help. Suddenly I was delving into the depths of hyperbole via National Honor Society, high school sports, and various clubs. It was stuff I hadn't thought about for years. So, yeah ... I returned to high school ... And it taught me this:

If I had the awesome BS-ing and InDesign skills college helped me develop, my book could've blown the judge's heads off. That, in turn means that getting two degrees wasn't a total waste, as long as it gave me the power to blow heads off...

Not mine - this is from 2007 - but this was my InDesign level back then.

See? College wasn't a waste, yeah?

I mean, dude, I got awards for this stuff. Not a waste!

The second event that took me back to high school again came courtesy of my brother. I ran home for a visit last weekend and discovered I had the fortunate (?) timing to arrive right in the middle of the prom rush. 

Yep. I went back to prom.

Well, I didn't seriously go to prom. That would've been weird and creepy. Dad calls those kids the "Moldy Oldies," and I'd hate to be a moldy oldie...

But my old high school has this thing called "promenade." Do other schools do this? It's where the whole community piles into the high school auditorium, and then each of the prom couples walk out, do something awkward (wave, smile uncomfortably, or this year, do a butt shake at the crowd), and then walk off. It's a good chance for parents to get pictures and for kids to show off their outfits. 

Promenade also happens to be the setting for my absolute favorite high school memory, so it was weird to return to that. Most of my high school experiences have faded into a mush of memory, but I distinctly remember promenade for two reasons. 

1. When I walked out with my date, the crowd gasped. Yeah, that's right. I was hot. (Okay, not really. Well, I mean, they really did gasp, but it was just because I had a gorgeous dress. Royal blue, covered in glittering beads, super great.) It was good for my ego.

But more importantly:

2. After my date and I walked offstage, we stood at the auditorium door to wait for my friend and her date to follow. To my surprise, though, they were really slow getting outside. I couldn't figure out what was holding them up — maybe they got lost? Maybe they went off the wrong direction? Finally they emerged with my friend sporting the prom queen banner and crown.

HIGHLIGHT OF MY LIFE!

That's right, Bree Anne, your being crowned prom queen was my best high school memory. Bet you didn't know that, did you? It was just one of those moments where the greatest person you know finally gets the recognition they deserve. Those moments are (sadly) far too rare, so you have to relish them when they come.

I'd attach a picture of the event, but I don't have one of those just lying around. Hey! I'm not in high school! I'm a big-time college graduate! We don't have time for stuff like that! 

(Kidding, kidding. But seriously, I don't have a picture, so I'm not kidding about that.)

And finally, and most unexpectedly, I went to see Hale Centre Theatre's production of "Tale of Two Cities."

What are the odds I'd get a high school reminder there? 

Before I saw it, I would've said nil, zip, zero.

After I saw, it, though, I'd have to say 100 percent. 

Because it happened.

I went to the play with my friend Kenna, and afterward I was perusing the cast list when a name jumped out. Now, the kid wasn't from my high school, but he was from the next high school over, and I had seen him perform before. Twice, actually, in "Les Miserables" and "The Secret Garden."

I remember watching him as Jean Val Jean and thinking, "Please, please, Rhett Richins, leave the Basin!" His talent as a singer blew me away as a little sophomore, which is why I remembered his name all these years later.

And see that? I just threw his name out there. That's right, Rhett, I'm that weird girl who asked you if you were from Vernal. Normally I don't talk to performers after a show (why bother? They know they're amazing) but I broke that rule because I was hoping that he had indeed left the Basin. Turns out he did, and now he's sharing his beautiful voice in Salt Lake. Basin success story!

Seeing Rhett perform took me way, waaaay back to high school in a drastic way. It was like an association game: see a kid from Vernal = get snapped back to ballet classes at the Powerhouse Theatre, performing in "The Nutcracker" and other ballets, hanging out with Vernal kids, being in love with a certain Javert, etc.

(Incidentally, Carolyn, Rachel, if you want to play high school crush poker, my crush could totally smash your crushes... General Sterling Scholar (I think he got a 35 on his ACT), lead in the school musicals, ballroom dancer, great hair, and on the football team. That's like a royal flush.)

Good times, good times.

Hopefully the universe is done shoving me back to my high school years, though. High school was six years ago, and I'd like to keep it back there. 

But "Tale of Two Cities" was awesome. I probably should've mentioned that before it closed.

Oops.