Romeo and Juliet, The Drama Queen

                                    and The Green Nerve Medicine            

 In the summer before the eighth grade, my baby fat started to just fall off.  It was like magic!  I had started reaching out to others the previous year and I had new friends.  I was allowed to get contact lenses in lieu of my glasses, opting for green contacts to match my eyes.  (The same color of my dad’s!)

  Then what seemed impossible became possible.  I was invited to my first Homecoming Dance!  I will never forget the boy who asked me.  He was a head shorter than I was but I really liked him.  I gave my dad specific instructions for the big night.  I said, “Stay in the kitchen with Mom and I will bring him in to meet you.” I continued, “And, whatever you do, don’t stand up when he comes in the room.  He is short and I don’t want him to be embarrassed by your height.”  I went over the instructions time and again to make certain he knew what to do.  

  Mom had taken me to a seamstress and had a dress made for me.  Of course, it was green (to match my eyes).  I bought a pair of “baby doll” shoes that were the rage to go with the dress.  I got up early and primped all day long, taking extra time with my hair and make-up.  I made certain to wear green eye shadow (to match everything else green).  Truly, I was becoming “the green-eyed monster,” my dad liked to call me. 

  It seemed like the clock didn’t move that day.  Finally, I heard the knock at the door.  I opened the door and there he stood.  I had never seen him in anything but school clothes but there he stood with a suit on with his hair all coiffed.  I know both of our faces were beet red as we nervously said, “Hello” to one another.  He handed me my first corsage.  I thanked him as I took it, telling him how beautiful it was and I said, “Come and meet my mom and dad.”   I walked slowly down the hall and turned to go into the kitchen where my parents sat.  I caught a glimpse out of the right corner of my eye and there was my dad (in all of his splendor) kneeling on the floor.  He came waking up on his knees with his hand held out in a gesture of greeting to meet my date.  I was humiliated.  My date was humiliated.  My dad laughed and laughed.  Thanks Dad!

  I lost even more weight the summer before the ninth grade.  I was feeling so much better about myself, although there seemed to be an ever present “lurking” I couldn’t shake off.

 There was a nearby Catholic school that only taught students through the eighth grade, so our school received some of their rising ninth graders that year.  There were a couple of guys in the group that were just “to die for” as far as their looks went.  Everyone was gaga over them.  One day, in-between classes, several girls rushed up to me talking so fast I could hardly understand what they were saying.  They went on and on about how this one particular guy liked me; I was shocked, yet I was thrilled and excited.  But, I wondered why he would like me.  I wasn’t out to get a guy but there were girls around me who were constantly thinking about guys.  I was very shy and naïve but I thought for a couple of minutes and decided to just wait and see what would happen.  From that moment on, everything changed.  This particular fellow and I had several classes together and I would catch him staring at me.  Then, as a few days progressed, he asked if he could start walking me to classes.  Timidly, I said, “Okay.”  I really didn’t know what to make of all of it yet but I went along.  He ended up telling me that one of the things he liked about me was the way I was always changing my hair and overall look.  For years, I had loved trying new hairstyles and make-up and going to school didn’t stop that.  I would always try to look my best everyday and took great lengths to do that.

  Overnight I became a part of the “in” crowd.  What a boost to my lack of self-confidence.  Yet, I really wasn’t ready for a grown-up relationship and all that dating encompassed, but a few in my class were seeing older guys and car dating.  My dad really didn’t like the fact that I had one single boyfriend who wanted to constantly come over to my house.  Seeing one another at school and going to an occasional dance was one thing but coming to my house was something altogether different.  I really wasn’t ready for a going steady, deep “thing” but I just didn’t know how to say no. 

  My dad would limit our time together, which was actually fine with me.  I was relieved when he would leave and go home.  I didn’t want to feel pressured by any boy.  It made me feel icky inside but “when in Rome.”  This one relationship was responsible for hurling me into popularity and I liked it so I was not going to give it up.  I liked being popular.

 But, I was still a fearful, dark and withdrawn individual inside, never revealing to anyone how I truly felt.  I believed I would grow out of “it.”  I started perfecting a mask of pretending to be happy.  I was being invited to do things by friends, meeting my boyfriend at other homes.  I would go but I still wanted to be in the comfort zone of my own home where I felt safe.  But again, the excitement of being popular helped spur me on to do well and kept me pretending constantly that I was happy.  I always attended and rarely missed school unless I just was too sick to get there. 

  We had the option of taking two elective classes in the ninth grade.  Everyone I was around said Drama class was an easy class and since I had no clue what direction I was going in my life, I opted for Drama.  Why not?  What I discovered was that class was anything but easy.  I loved it!  You know the whole Edge of Night thing! 

  We were asked by our Drama teacher to write a play so I went home and huddled up in my room.  Much to my amazement, a play started spilling out onto the pages in front of me.  I turned it in, thankful that it had come so easily, not thinking anymore about it.  The teacher walked into class several days later, stood in front of her desk and announced that only two times in her career had she ever given anyone an A+ on their assignment.  She went on to say that someone in class had written a play that had earned one of those A+’s.  She looked at me and said, “Molly, come up and get your A+!  I was dumbfounded.  I had also just received an A+ on a literature paper in my English class.  The top three plays went on to be performed in the school auditorium.  Kids in my class started looking at me as not just a blonde without a brain. 

 I had drifted through life up to this point just having to do schoolwork for grades.  But, I found out I had a passion for the Arts.  I also knew I loved to do hair, makeup and fingernails.  We had a big front porch and I would go out there, taking my sketchpad my grandmother had given to me and draw, passing the time on a rainy afternoon.  I discovered I could draw objects and I was good at profiles.  I drew an exact copy of Paul McCartney’s profile on the front of my piano sheet music entitled “Yesterday.”  But, as far as determining what I was going to be “when I grew up,” well, those things were just not talked about when it came to my sister and me.  My dad always thought we would get married, I guess, and have a family, with our husbands to take care of us.  It never occurred to him to prepare us for the world.  Since I hadn’t grown up talking about goals or what I would do in this life, I had no clear, set direction.  My parents were pleased that I was making good grades but there was no talk about developing my artistic abilities and making them “work” for me.  My parents’ best friends were a dentist and his wife.  Things would be tossed around the kitchen table concerning my future, such as my becoming a dental hygienist.  I had been blessed with beautiful teeth “just like my dads.”  I could work four days a week while making good money and the field was in demand, so I could get a job no matter where I lived.  Well, it seemed okay, I guess, but I wasn’t really thrilled about the idea of putting my hands in someone else’s mouth.  I had answered phones in the dental office one summer while they went on vacation but that was all I knew about Dentistry.  I could like working in the dental field, I supposed.  But my heart was drawn to the Arts.  My passion was plays, hair, make-up, fingernails and movies, but how do you make a living do that?         

 I met a girl at school who had moved to my hometown from Texas.  Her parents knew my uncle and that gave us an immediate connection.  We became fast friends.  She was very smart and as a result, it made me want to do better in school.  My life was as happy at this point as it had ever been.   

  The end of the ninth grade school year was coming to an end and I felt sad, yet excited at what was to come for me in high school.  Every year there was an annual talent show that everyone could participate in.  Romeo and Juliet was popular at the time and I decided I would showcase my piano talents by playing the theme song “A Time For Us” on the school’s baby grand piano.  I was also involved in a dance routine with five other girls.  We were going to imitate the Temptations while lip sinking “Cloud 9.”  I thought I was “the cat’s meow.”

 Things always became lax at the end of the year and I was allowed by my science teacher to go to the auditorium to practice.  In my mind, I was Liberace and I would play away preparing for the big night.  I would have barely stopped my piece when I would hear thunderous applause of nearby classes.  I would just sit and soak up the glory with a big grin on my face. 

 The night came for the talent show.  I was so nervous that I ended sneaking a couple of swigs of my mom’s green nerve medicine.  Hello! Green nerve medicine was the answer to all of my fears.  Boy, did I feel better inside.  That was the beginning of my discovering life was better drugged.  It was my secret.  No one else knew.

 Even though I had tried hard to mask my fear, it had continued to be a colossal factor in my life, as if it were a person.  As a result, I wanted to have a great big tube attached to me filled with liquid nerve medicine.  I would take swigs every now and again, filling the bottle back up with water to hide the fact I had taken some.  I was addicted.  She finally asked me if I had been taking her green nerve medicine.  I told her I would take it “when I get really nervous.”  She replied, “You have nothing to be nervous about.”  She had never really taken it much.  She just wanted to have it on hand.  I was caught and that put an end to my green nerve medicine!  It didn’t put an end to my desire for it though; it gave me liquid courage and I liked the way I felt when I took it.  I was hooked.  How was I going to make it through now without any green nerve medicine?