FULL DISCLOSURE – this story involves skipping school. And skipping school – although exhilarating and rebellious – it is bad. Like grounding bad. Yes, I should have been grounded for what I’m about to tell you, but I wasn’t – but June was. It was a typical grey wintery day in Catana. The snow banks were piled so high that you could barely see the on-coming traffic. And on this randomly regular weekday, we were gifted with the freedom every teenager desires… to borrow the parental car to drive to school. June’s dad was away on business. His car was tucked safely in the garage awaiting his return. On this fine morning, she had the courage to ask her mom to take his car to school. June carefully presented an itinerary of how the day would unfold; outlining where she would go with the car and who would be with her. As added insurance, she kindly reminded her mom of her outstanding grades, obedient nature and a cross-your-heart-hope-to-die promise to come straight home after school. Her m...

  There is nothing more exciting than when you get your license as a teenager and your parents start trusting you to borrow their car – FREEDOM! (And by trusting you I mean holding their breath until you return it in the driveway in one piece – which let’s be honest, didn’t always happen…) But first, getting that license required the successful completion of driving school. My younger sister, brother and I all had the same in-car driving instructor and collectively agreed he looked like Tommy Lee Jones – and also realized over the course of conversations later in life that he always made us swing by his house because he’d forget to turn the coffee machine off or close the garage door or let the dog out?! Perks of the job I guess... Once you pass that nerve-wracking driver’s test – even with the points I got docked because when stopped at an intersection my examiner scolded me for not looking in the bushes thoroughly enough, “There could be wildlife that runs out!” – it’s by...

I was a good student – I showed up to class on time, I didn’t skip (that much), I did what I was told (most of the time) – except for when it came to homework. This is where I showed my remarkable talent for procrastination. I have never seen a more motivated teenager to clean their room, babysit their siblings, run errands, rake leaves, walk the dog, paint the garage, cook dinner, clean toilets, or do laundry, than a teenager who had homework. Like moi. But do you know what happens to procrastinators like me? Your journey to those credits doubles in length. Why? Because you have to do it twice. Hellooooooo night school. Now, I have no idea why I didn’t see that I would suffer twice if I didn’t excel in school. If you don’t enjoy it during the day, you’re certainly not going to enjoy it at night or during the summer on your own time.  The lesson here kids is, do it when you’re asked to, in actual school. You don’t need “extra” school to prove you don’t like reading Shakespeare. And...

Ghouls and goblins, witches and warlocks… Halloween you say? No, no my friends, I’m talking about… Picture Day. I don’t know about you all, but high school yearbook photos might as well have been akin to costumes and dress up – too much make up, hair dye (Patricia much?), teenage fashion (which is a costume in and of itself) and a whole lot of tricks (how can the retake photo be worse then the original?) and treats (that rare high school photo you were actually happy with!) You see kids, when Patricia and I were in high school, you would be herded into the auditorium, get ONE photo taken, and then have to wait two or three weeks to see the results. Can. You. Imagine. Nothing could make or break your day more than getting your photos back – you either crushed them to your chest so no one could see until you had a chance to bury them deep in your locker, or you “accidentally” left them face up on your desk all day. Now, this is most definitely the female POV regarding picture ...