Monday, February 8, 2010

In My Book, C is for Cookie

Hello again blogging world. I've missed you so. Okay, so I know it has been almost a year since I've written anything, but...I've been busy? Okay, more like, I've been lazy. I have no excuses. So here is a little tidbit to wet your whistle on.

I never aspired to be a cheerleader. There are a few key reasons why. 1. Cheerleading was not cool in my high school. I wouldn't have been into it even if it were cool, but it really wasn't cool. 2. I'm a realist. My body was not cheerleading material. And 3. I would have been ridiculed endlessly in my family.

Now my mom forced me to do a lot of things in the name of exercise, but the year she forced me into cheerleading camp...well that was just cruel. Worse than the year she signed me up for the swim team as a 260 lb. teenage girl. Did she actually think that was a good idea? I'm trying to figure out her thought process, it must have been something like this...

"Kim is really getting heavy. I need to get her involved in some kind of activity that would make her feel good about herself AND get her some good exercise. I know, I'll sign her up the our area's highly competitive swim team. They have to take anyone, and I know that she will LOVE getting into a swimsuit every single day for a year. That's it. Swim team it is. She is going to be so excited!"

The sad thing is, that probably wasn't too far off from what she was thinking. My mom has an extremely high self esteem.

Anywho, back to the story. So, it was the summer after 5th grade. A fairly uneventful summer, I can't remember anything about it until August. My mom was a Young Women's Leader and Girl's Camp rolled around. She and my two older sisters were going to camp, but I was only 11. The older boys all had jobs, and my dad has never taken a day off work in his life. I'm not kidding, I had foot surgery when I was 19, he dropped me off at the hospital. He didn't even come in and do the pre-op stuff with me. I know I was 19 but I was still a little scared. Anyway, missing work was not his forte and he certainly wasn't going to take a week off to hang out with me. In retrospect I don't know why they didn't just let me hang out at home. I'm sure they didn't know where we were 90 percent of the time anyway.

Moving on. So my mom is gone for the week and my dad has to work. What to do with Kim. Lucky for me, the high school was sponsoring cheerleading camp. Oh joy. What obese teen doesn't want to wear short shirts and jump around with other girls literally half their size?

There are many painful details about cheerleading camp that I could share, but I'll hit the highlights. 1. I did not have an awesome attitude about cheer camp. I wanted to die every moment, every cheer, every hurkey, every spread eagle... sheer torture for me and my fat self. Just picture in your head, I'm all red from "dancing" and me and my 2 inch vertical are trying to spread my eagle in the .003 seconds I'm off the ground, this of course is accompanied by a grunt, how could it not be? It wasn't pretty.

However, when they sat us all down and the high school cheerleaders spelled out the word CHEERLEADER and told us what each letter meant, I literally had to cover my mouth so I wouldn't laugh out loud. "L is for Lush because as a cheerleader you totally get wasted every weekend after the big game." Okay that was mean, all cheerleaders are hating me right now.

The final straw was the last day when we sat down in our little groups and we went around the circle and had to say why we wanted to be cheerleaders. Big obnoxious..okay skinny obnoxious girl who had been grating on my nerves all week said, "I want to be a cheerleader because I like to be loud." I said, "we can tell." Next Sweet Quiet Girl said, "I want to be a cheerleader because that's what my dad wanted me to be before he died." WHAT? I'm next I follow Dead-dad's-dream girl, and what do I say? No, not, "I'm just trying cheerleading out." Not, "I'm here to learn." I said with my same snotty attitude, "I don't want to be a cheerleader. I hate cheerleading! my mom made me come because she is out of town this week, and my dad had to work." That is what came after Dead-Dad's-Dream-Girl. Ahhhh. Could I have been a bigger jerk?

Needless to say, I did not become a cheerleader in high school. My thighs continued to be too big, and my attitude not nearly perky enough. Let's be honest the only thing C will ever stand for in my book is Cookie.

15 comments:

Stacey said...

That's too funny. I'm glad you're back! Cheerleading really wasn't cool in our school like the rest of the world, was it??

Krismisstree said...

I love how you write. I wonder if you remember the girls' names from cheerleading camp and where they are now. And if Dead-Dad girl remembers you...ah, Gillette, the corner of the competitive athletic world.

Christina Lyon Maughan said...

I love you! Your brutal honesty and self deprecating humor are priceless.
I am glad that you weren't a cheerleader either, you are way too cool to be a brainless cheerleader.

Stephanie B said...

That story gets better and better. I think we still made fun of you for cheerleading camp - even if it was against your will. How supportive is that.

Devin Sarih said...

Oh, Kim, how I've missed your blog. You're fabulous. I love ya.

DNAWILD said...

Oh, I don't know Kim, I am thinking those camel girls could have learned a thing or two from you, LOL, Loved the story.
Amanda

Heather said...

C also could stand for cheesecake, could it not?

Rachel K said...

Hahahahahahahaaa!!! I loved it!

Amy said...

Swim team?? Now this I did not know about.

Look at you using big words like "retrospect"!

Love your updated blog title. About time you said things for what they really are!

charith said...

Haha! Love it.

Mary said...

Kim! You are so funny to talk to....but you are SO FUNNY when you write!! I laughed out loud through this whole story.
You should write a book. About anything. It would be great! And Dave would give it 5 stars! :)

Alane said...

AH, Kim...so great to see you are back! I MISS YOU! Cheerleaders were so not cool in MY book....but then that's cuz I was TOO CHUBBY...PEP BAND RULES!!!

Chelsea said...

Thank you for blogging. I laugh right out loud in my office. Only you and 30 Rock can do that. Love this story. Love the swim team segment. SO funny!! Too bad your mom didn't talk to my parents. My dad wrote me doctors notes to get me out of my weekly PE swim class Senior Year so I wouldn't have to put on a swim suit in front of my class mates. Lovely people.

Know that I always look forward to your stories, and hope that is motivation to write more often!!

Abby said...

I can't believe I forgot to comment on this for months. See, the day you posted this was the day Blogger decided I was Satan and it wouldn't let me comment on any blogs for two days. And by then I'd forgotten. Sorry.

BUT, this was a totally awesome story, if for no other reason than you totally ruining the day of that kid with the dead dad whose dying wish was for her to be a cheerleader. Because he had very low expectations, apparently.

NOW POST AGAIN ALREADY.

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