Story Time.
In high school I was in a band called Hoping for Haley. Whenever we would practice, we would practice at Joe, the singers, studio. Sometime after playing the same song 4 times and quoting our favorite movies, we would travel inside, and make Reno’s Pizza. Also known as the worst-best-after-band-practice-pizza. One night while eating this pizza and drinking whatever was in Joe’s fridge, usually OJ or milk, I went to burp in one of the guys faces. What came out was not a burp, it was really just me yelling incredibly loudly. I don’t know why the burp was swapped out with a yell. Maybe it was me getting so excited to burp in his face, that the yell simply slipped out. Instantly, we went in to hysterical laughter. I don’t think I ever actually got to burp.
This is the kind of story that comes from my junior and senior year in high school. It wasn’t spending my weekends at some party (I attended one party in high school. I left 20 minutes in), but it was hanging out with my best friends, and realizing that I didn’t want to go to parties or whatever so I could fit in. I just wanted to be myself.
