When I was in high school, my school had an event every year called Presentation Play. The event was a promotion for our drama department, and they performed whatever bit of theatre they had been working on that semester in the high school, weird acting voice, over-projecting kind of way.
Sometime in the weeks leading up to the event, the student body voted on the annual yearbook superlatives and celebrated the popular students some more for being popular. They probably needed the self-esteem boost. Two winners in each category and two runner’s up were elected, received their blue ribbons at Presentation Play, and were featured in the yearbook (I pulled these straight from The Jacket 1994, the only yearbook that survived my adventures in moving):
- Class Favorites for each grade: Less of a popularity contest, and more for the kids who were typically decent to everyone.
- Most Athletic: The students who went on to collegiate sports.
- Most Attractive: They were, although according to Facebook, some of them are not aging well.
- Most Flirtatious: This wasn’t always a positive label–mainly for the girls who were elected. Aww, small town, double standard.
- SHS Sweetheart and Beau: Not to be confused with Homecoming and Prom King and Queen, although they were typically the same people.
- Best Eyes: Green and blue eyes always won.
- Best Personality: I can’t believe I never won this one.
- Most Intellectual: The biggest nerds finally got some recognition too.
- Most Spirited: They loved the Yellow Jackets.
- Most Representative: I’m still not entirely sure anyone knew what this meant. Random people got elected, and they usually dressed preppy. They never clarified what it was these students most represented.
- Best Sense of Humor: The wittiest.
- Best Smile: You had to have your braces off to win this one.
Isn’t it weird how we leave high school focused on things that don’t really matter?
These awards should have been funnier, but I doubt our school administrators would have allowed anything but these generic, inoffensive awards. Most likely to succeed is even absent.
It’s been 16 years since I left high school, so I don’t really remember voting for these awards, and I only went to Presentation Play once, mainly because that was the only time anyone asked to me go. I don’t remember what play was performed, and I don’t really remember the award ceremony, but I think my brother won class favorite that year.
I do vividly remember that I had recently gotten a puppy for my sixteenth birthday. A dalmatian that I named Alexis so when people asked me what I got for my sweet sixteeen, I could say, “A Lexus,” because what I really wanted was a new car and I was pretty subtle back then (or passive aggressively shitty and entitled if you prefer proper labeling).
I loved this dog, even though she was awful.
I also made the mistake of letting her sleep in the bed with me before she was properly de-wormed, and she gave me ringworm. Oh yes, that happened. So I attended this play with my boyfriend in a navy blue, crushed velvet dress, and black high heels, because I understood fashion even less back then. I was splotched with Cover Girl makeup from head to toe in the wrong shade for my skin color, in an effort to cover this disgusting and embarrassing skin disease that is caused by doggie butt worms (it’s really a fungus, but butt worms is more amusing).
It’s funny how the dork with bad hair, purple braces, and ringworm never wins class favorite.
In an effort to shake off my recent, depressing dad post, I will give you some possibilities today for yearbook superlatives in real life.
Post-High School Reality Checks:
- Most likely to live in their parent’s basement at age 30, playing X-box and digging pizza dust out of their belly buttons.
- Most likely to die alone and be eaten by cats.
- Most likely to spend nine years on their undergrad degree.
- Most likely to overachieve and gain a freshman fifty.
- Most likely to flunk out their first semester away from home and have to move back to this hick town and finish up at the local, cowboy college. (It’s a good school, relax TSU alumni, my grandfather still has a scholarship there for aspiring teachers. I probably should have stayed home and gone there myself).
Real World Work Awards:
- Most likely to suggest flip cup or beer pong at their first office Christmas party, and then black out trying to win.
- Most likely to open fire on the office after they realize what having a real job, and being laid off from that job feels like.
- Most likely to be fired for looking at porn at work.
- Most likely to become the office, IT Bully.
- Most likely to shove a TPS Report up their micro-managing supervisor’s ass and blame it on a case of the Monday’s.
- Most likely to turn their uterus into a clown car and have a litter of children on fertility meds after waiting just a little long to start a family. And then film a reality show.
- Most likely to dress their children as Ewoks, Jedi, or bounty hunters until they are 13 and old enough to protest.
- Most likely to accidentally put their kid in a washing machine.
- Most likely to use baby leashes on kids over the age of three and end up on the news.
- Most likely to become an alpha mom while trying to replace their careers with parenting and running the household.
Social Media Awards:
- Most likely to keep re-hashing their junior high drama on Facebook every day well into their 40s.
- Most likely to win Twitter with a stellar boob avi.
- Most likely to google the word gunt after they see it on Twitter, while hoping it means goat runt and is not another word for fupa. Then spend at least ten minutes considering words they could create with other letters and the nasty c-word, and eventually settle on funt (fun+c-word that I still won’t write here). Go Funts!
- Most likely to gain thousands of followers by exclusively tweeting about how everyone else is doing Twitter wrong.
- Most likely to post a bathroom, mirror self-portrait on Facebook with yeast infection cream and an unflushed toilet in the background.
That’s about all I can think of today.
Anyone want to add an award to the list?
Did you ever receive a yearbook award?
Did you ever have to fake your way through a date while dying inside because you had ringworm from snuggling your new puppy, and you hoped no one would notice?
I win the Josie Grossie Award then.