I Think I Smelled Like Teen Spirit….

Getting Personal (aka a little TMI) | Point and Laugh No Comments

This afternoon I left my office and began to walk down the hallway toward, I dunno, somewhere, when I realized the paper towels I had shoved down my shirt and into my arm pits were beginning to escape. It took me back to a moment during my 5th grade year when I was washing my hands in the restroom and I saw a teacher doing something very strange right next to me. You see she was….

sweating alive

Couldn’t I just have that verified through the breathing and moving I’m doing instead of all the sweating?

…Huh? What? You mean you don’t shove paper towels or Kleenex into your shirt to absorb sweat?

Well, then I suppose you just learned something about me.

Sometimes I sweat more than I’d like. This has led to the development of many new words I use in regular conversation with my family and friends.
Words like “Swass” and “Swoobs” are a part of our vernacular.

I’ve been teased for a long time about the amount of deodorant and antiperspirants I layer onto my pits, but I long ago analyzed why I use so much.

So, let’s take a trip back to my 6th grade year. Yes, this is also the year in which I “became a woman,” which I wrote about a while back. It was a year of cringe-worthy memories. In fact, looking back, all of middle school was just one giant cringe. Thank God that is over with.

Another thing to know about me, if you don’t already, is that I was pretty much born “boy crazy.” I can’t remember a time I didn’t have a crush on a boy, so 6th grade was absolutely no exception. This particular memory involves a boy named Andy and a smelly, awkward, short-haired version of yours truly.

I had Mrs. Prager for English that year, and I sat one row over and a chair behind Andy, who had crystal blue eyes and light brown hair perfectly styled with too much gel, just like Zach Morris.  *swoon*

One day I noticed he was turning around in his chair toward me. I noticed because I was most likely boring holes into the back of his head from staring at him.

Anyway, he turned my way and looked directly at me. Here is what I am sure my 12 year-old self was thinking:

OH. MY. GAWD! Andy is staring right at me. This is it! This is the moment he realizes he loves me even though I’m not at all cool, have braces and acne, and short brown boy hair. He doesn’t actually like all those pretty blondes with cool names so unlike my basic name. He does love me.

Be still my heart…he is raising his hand toward his mouth; most likely to blow me a kiss while declaring his love in front of 30 of our peers. Everyone will see this and know we are soul mates…

We are totally getting married!

Wait…why is he pinching his nose? Why is he waving his other hand in front of it?

I think pitting out is pretty awesome, too!

I think pitting out is pretty awesome, too!

Balls. At that moment I realized the hearts I saw swimming in front of my eyes were really just fumes from my sweaty pits.

Fantastic.

I was the smelly girl. This psychologically rooted in my brain and manifested itself as copious use of underarm products.

In fact, for whatever reason, I sweat more on my right side, so I often have to shove something in there to provide a barrier between my skin and shirt. Even better, sometimes I forget it’s there till it falls out of my shirt onto the floor in the hallway or my office.

I know, you wish you could be me. Sorry. Position is FILLED.

Now you know.

BUT, I digress!!!!

Back to being in the restroom in 5th grade with a 5th grade teacher behaving oddly.

As I was washing my hands I noticed Mrs. Cochran either putting paper towels in her shirt or taking them out. I can’t remember which was she was doing, specifically.

What I do remember is I left the bathroom convinced this 40-50 year-old woman was stuffing her bra; because that is what a girl my age would be accused of if she was observed doing the same thing.

I am certain I told TONS of other kids because it would have been a juicy scandal which I had witnessed with MY OWN EYEBALLS!

Here I sit, a little over 20 years later, and now I understand that she was sweating. I didn’t now Mrs. Cochran and I would one day be kindred spirits.

Thank God I work in schools with air conditioning.

UPDATE in the form of a PSA:
Ladies, use men’s deodorant. I started doing this several years ago and it has pretty much eradicated my sweating problems. The women’s deodorant industry is a LIE!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *