1982

Stranger than fiction, 1982 - playing fashion models while wearing a roach clip and one of my dad’s old dress shirts.

Nothing is more magical and awkward than being a mom to a teenage boy experiencing a relationship for the first time. His paramour is a straight-A dancer and saxophone player who is an absolute delight. She appears to be confident, self-assured and composed. The awkward part is our newfound relationships with the girl's parents, who are learning to navigate this friendship/chaperone thing too.

This is in stark contrast to my awkward ass in 1982.

Oh, let’s see… skinny but big boobs, Afro, huge glasses, retainer (a Frankel, if you were wondering), corrective shoes, awkwardly shy, nursing a hard crush on the boy that chose two of my cousins, and then my best friend over me. The only talents I was really harboring were drawing and writing while playing the best friend who held your coat while the cute boy asked you to dance Teen Night at Showbiz Pizza. At 13, I was relatively wealthy, banking my $2 an-hour income babysitting the Schaaf kids up the street.

It’s a wonder to see how confident kids these days are moving through life. 

A year later, looking like a divorced accountant in her mid-30s. 

I hope these kids are having a great time and I hope they are treating each other well. Will is enjoying a newfound freedom as well as an active social life where he's going to dances, pizza dates, haunted houses, and such.