Alternate title: I’m glad I’m not a teenager.
There’s an endless amount of reasons why I’m happy I’m no longer a teenager. While packing and rifling through stuff, we found two of those reasons in a box of papers.
The first is a treasured relic from the Art Department of the high school Tom and I went to:
This is a Bathroom Buck. It was given to students by a teacher named Mr. Downing, who wanted total control and had a lot of rules in his class, but had no air of authority whatsoever. He was openly mocked and I’m not sure if he either knew it and pretended otherwise, or if he just really didn’t pick up on it. I’m sure the Bathroom Buck was developed because one too many teens blatantly wandered away from his class. He taught photography, and for photography projects, we were really only allowed in the small area right outside the classroom, which was a huge concrete-covered area with railings and stairs. The number of photographs of sullen introspective teenagers sitting on or standing under stairs is probably in the thousands.
I know this is Tom’s Bathroom Buck, because I’m sure I used all of mine. Notice that it says “void if presented at an inappropriate moment.” You see what I mean? Lots of rules with no air of authority.
As an adult who has grown accustomed to a certain level of being able to use the bathroom whenever she wants, the sight of this Bathroom Buck fills me with dread. While I’m sure plenty of high school students did plenty of bad and naughty stuff under the guise of a bathroom break, to teenagers like me, who actually had to use the bathroom, the constant outside control of my bladder was really nerve wracking.
This leads me to the second treasure. In the grand scheme of things, I was a pretty good teenager. I didn’t do drugs, didn’t drink, etc, probably 60% because I wasn’t interested and 40% because I was always grounded due to being a crappy student, which was my major teenager-y flaw. As I’ve written about before, my personality type is pretty straight-laced, so as far as getting into trouble, I wasn’t that bad. I was, however, moody (still am, unfortunately). Even girls who are Myers-Briggs Thinking (as opposed to Feeling) get the Teenage Mope. Here’s a picture of me at Christmas, I was probably 16 at the time:
This picture fills me with all sorts of feelings, but the the main one is hilarity, which I’m declaring a feeling for the purpose of this sentence. There I am, poor teenage Carrie, at my aunt and uncle’s house for Christmas, surrounded by family who love me after probably receiving a gift I asked for. And the thing that I really like about the whole thing is that I bet my dad took this picture because he thought it was funny. Why else would you take a picture of that pile of teenage self-pity?
When Tom found it, he held it up and said “awwwwww, look at sad Carrie.” And he did seem to genuinely feel bad for her. And a part of me does, too, because that Carrie really was sad at the time, but for the most part, it makes me laugh. This is why, if we develop time travel technology, I should never be allowed to visit my past selves.
Maybe she’s sad because she used all her Bathroom Bucks. And that’s how you tie together a blog post.
Speaking of which, I could use that bathroom buck right now.
I’d send it to you, but I’d probably need to also include a change of pants, too.
Oh man. Don’t we all have a “sad Carrie” pose in our teenaged past? I remember quite a few family gatherings where I bordered on morose the entire time. Then again, my family was kinda crazy, so better that than suicidal I guess.
And that just took a turn.
Hey look over there! Bathroom bucks.
See, all better!! 🙂
My family had some crazy, but certainly not in proportion to my mope.
Next time you are traveling abroad you should see if you can exchange that bathroom buck for some US currency.
I was thinking of tipping someone with it.
How did you earn the bucks? Did you start out with a finite amount at the beginning of the year? I feel so uncomfortable just thinking about it. Also, what happened to Mr. Downing? Is he now reliant on the goodness of others for his bathroom needs?
They were given to you at the beginning of the semester. I can’t remember if you could earn them as well, but I doubt it.
Rumor has it (Tom told me) that he’s working at a magnet school.
So many questions. I think you’re planning on instituting the bathroom buck at your house.
YES. I would give them out on January 1st each year, like Monopoly money. Also, they would get Toilet Paper Bucks for the amount of squares they could use. It’s all very intriguing and I am working out the details. Am worried about karma though. Ending up in a nursing home where I am given no Bathroom Bucks at all.
Wow, bathroom buck? He does sound like a control freak.
I was totally angsty as a teen. It sucked. I will never, ever understand people for whom high school was a high point – I couldn’t get outta there quick enough!
That being said, whenever my husband comes across a pic of me from that time period, he cackles like a hen, so there is that.
All you can do is laugh, or else the pull of the anguish will envelop you like an old, clingy friend.
I would even find it hard to work at a high school, much less go back. Yuck.
I wouldn’t be a teenager again for a million dollars. I don’t even want to redo yesterday, for that matter. No time travel for me, unless I get to be invisible.
Also I’m a Fred Mertz on that personality quiz and now I am depressed.
Hey, does that mean you’re the same personality type as me?
You know when you share a personality with Eeyore that you’re the life of the party.
Boom. Pow. That’s how you do it. I was wondering how you were going to tie it all together and it was seamless. I hate that teacher for desperately trying to gain respect through controlling bathroom habits. HATE. That’s how much I value my peeing rights.
Exactly! I don’t mess around with that mess. I become very panicky whenever I’m somewhere that doesn’t have obvious, easily accessible bathrooms. I hear there are places abroad you have to use bucks to use the bathroom. I bet that’s where he got the idea.
My fondest memory of high school is surviving it.
I’ll sell you a cafeteria chit for the bathroom buck!
That bathroom buck is priceless!
My moping hit early. I think it hit in middle school instead. At 16 I had a car, so I was happy because “FREEDOM!”
I think this picture was before I inherited my mom’s Volvo station wagon.