Stuff you did as a Teen

I spent my teenage years in the 1980's just moping around, wishing they'd hurry up and invent the internet and smartphones.

Didn't love those years, secondary school a bit of a trawl. Nothing particularly bad. Teachers and classmates were generally fine. Even those who weren't operated within acceptable parameters of nastiness. I don't remember clear divisions between "cool" kids and other categorisation. The kids I thought of as cool were, well, actually quite cool. We did have the hurlers, but even then, my memory is of them getting more antagonism than any of the rest of us because of the primacy of performing well in THE HARTY CUP. I couldn't hurl, more a hazard to myself than anyone else, managing to inflict self-injury in most creative ways with that hurley. I was selected for the gaelic football team in 1st year (aged 12 years), something I'd forgotten until reminded years later by a classmate, well after we finished school. I declined at the time, which I was also reminded didn't go down too well with the PE teacher. Gaelic sports had an overdose of religiosity and, even then, I was too busy divesting myself of catholicism to welcome a substitute. The classmate who reminded me got a terrible time from the same teacher when he wanted to withdraw from the football team to concentrate on his preferred competitive cycling.

Sport was a help, despite all the above. Given my natural athletic body type, I was immediately cast as loose head prop on the under 12's rugby team and stayed there for my entire junior rugby career. Genuinely, I'd have been lost without it.

Peer pressure was definitely a factor- choosing an English soccer team to follow, knowing Top of the Pops. As we grew older, into late teens, most of us settled for things and identities that actually mattered. I think that's how it went, anyway, and I started listening to my brothers' tastes in music, Joy Division, The Doors, as well as crap that I can still hold over them. The expression that was most used towards me was "turn it down" as I played Lightnin' Hopkins at high volume when doing homework.

There's a lot I could say about those years, but probably specific to Ireland in the 80's and not of much use to the OP. Reflecting on it now, the teens were a bit of a drudge. Some people are just born older, maybe.

 

The trouble with these statements is that they're all just a summary assumption of a group of people, not individual stories of people in particular. And I already knew this. I'm seeking away out of the cliche summary into the real. Though I guess "popular" might not be the word I should use. Mainly I mean anyone who isn't a loner doing loner things. I also want to do more outside of the context of "popular vs unpopular." People in fiction care about popularity WAAAAAYYY more than people in real life, and I'm not here to elaborate on well-tread ground.

Basically, I want to look at normies and know more about them.

 

Do you have any interesting stories of specific places you went with your friends? Any friends. And what are parties like? They've always seemed dreadfully boring to me, but I'm willing to be wrong.

 

We can either give you our own experiences or a summary of what we've observed of others....

 

Your own experiences, please. And stories, not summaries, of others, if possible. Think around one particular incident, rather than "all this" or "all that."

 

In high school my husband was in the middle section. everyone knew him, but he wasn't "popular" but he also wasn't on the opposite end of the social ladder either.

he played soccer and lacrosse and was in ROTC. He had a group of friends. they'd always leave school together in herds to walk to the corner store or a few blocks over to catch the train and then hangout downtown after school. whenever I tried to hang with them, I felt like an outsider and he'd be the only one to talk to me (aside from the catty remarks from the other girls in the group).
School dances, he would be the one socializing in a group of other people.

i don't know how he was in class. we only had 2 classes together our freshmen year before I enrolled in IB classes. and in those classes, I'd sit in the front and he'd sit in the back. I never paid any attention to the other kids in my classes, TBH (graduation was quite a surprise... i'd never seen more than half the people in my graduating class)

Thats all I got

^ that's a lie. I got stories, but they arent great. if you are looking to make a popular character, then my stories about bullying are irrelevant

 

I'm good with research, but your line of questioning is beginning to feel like mining other folks' memories that you can morph into your writing. We've already given you a ton of ideas, memories, and information without satisfying you. Asking for specific memories of specific incidents is getting a little... specific.

I wish you luck, but I'm outta here.

 

you missed my point, though.

we cant tell you about OTHER people because we don't know their experiences. we only know OUR OWN experiences and can only guess at/summarize what we've encountered dealing with those other people. telling a story about someone else would be terribly 1 sided and would just count as our own experiences anyway because its how we perceived that other person....

 

Nobody can relate a decade of their lives in a couple of paragraphs. I only told a couple of stories and gave one viewpoint on my own adolescence. There are countless more stories, and other viewpoints I can take. It's like when you write a memoir, you choose a certain tone for it and leave out what doesn't fit that tone and adjust certain things to fit it better. Just as there's no such thing as objectively true history that everyone involved would agree on, my life consists of many threads. No single narrative could do it all justice. And that's true for all of us. We just have our narratives we like to tell. At time I could be downright extraverted, and even when I wasn't I was. never painfully shy or anything. I talked tolots of people, of all different social strata. Not usually the real well-to-do socialites who were like the Mean Girls, only male and female both, but occasionally even them. And sometimes I found myself the 'cool kid' (whatever that means) in a group of really socially awkward people. We all contain multitudes.

 

I was fully aware of your point the entire time, but it seems mine was lost along the way. Please, I'm not making this into an argument. It's just that we all have eyeballs and can witness other people doing things. e.g. I've never been in band but I did know people in it. Of course you don't know the minds of others, but you've seen them do things. Maybe a person mentioned a popular hangout or something, or you saw them somewhere.

 

Exactly. Which is why I asked for stories, not for summaries.

 

That wasn't aimed at you, more a few things people had said where they seemed to be summarizing their entire teenage decade.

 

But you're judging incoming info qualitatively against your preconception of a normie teen, wherever that may come from. "Don't give me the cliche. Hey, that's not close enough to the cliche."

I trust in your ability as an author to make a party interesting.

Basically it's interesting for teens at the moment because they're practising multifactorial validation (party tricks, who-knows-who, dancing, unique or conforming outfit, which Twilight character is hotter) that comes from without the normal power structures and oversight of family and school admin. It's advanced play, and with fewer foam mats. It's scary: there's no rulebook and they could be totally rejected. It's rewarding. But it does get boring quickly because they eventually develop enough ego that cheap validation feels cheap. Teens are still wondering if people will even tolerate their face in an more free environment, while adults are so totally removed from that they would rather observe drying paint.

Or something zips right past them and they're still partying like an eighteen-year-old at thirty. Adults can party in a healthy way too, of course, but at that point it's to establish and reinforce social status and make connections. That's why one of the first things you ask Jeff is "what do you do" at the neighbourhood barbecue. You end up no longer dressing for sexual appreciation but to demonstrate you are the kind of person who is sexually appreciated.

As for a what a party is like, do you really think you'll get it wrong? It could be a quiet house party where one person spends the whole time petting the dog, two others break out the magic card game, and the three stoners hit the porch. It could be a bush affair with drinks on tailgates and, unfortunately, blaring country music. It could mean drinking at the beach after hours talking about life goals, trying to avoid the bylaw. It could mean a large round-table of party card games and a swig of the King's cup for the loser. Don't forget to congregate in the kitchen. At best, someone will accidentally open up his artery on a glass coffee table.

For teens' lives in general, they are exceptionally boring unless they come with noteworthy circumstance (like, dangerous telekinetic powers and/or zealot mother). The high-achievers have to do homework. They're ferried around to sports practise, family obligations etc. Malls are no longer the third urban social space, so they're out unless you're writing something based in the past. Guess what's more boring than the mall and what kids prefer? Social media, videogames.

My main point is that that 'normal' experience you're trying to harvest ideas from is an insufficient source regardless. It's up to you to make it something compelling, unique, not formed from overly broad strokes.

 

I've got to agree with Catriona. No offense given or taken on either side, I'm sure, but when people volunteer things about their lives to try help your research, everyone is going to be a little more prickly and you'll get a better reaction by sticking to "Thanks! Interesting. Could you also elaborate on X?", rather than,

Its just a bit sharp.

Best of luck with your teens; its bloody hard writing about teenagers as a not-teenager, for sure, let alone about the type of teenager you weren't. Look forward to seeing some of it in the workshop.

 

I was a teen in the 90s. I graduated in '98. I don't know what sort of stories you're looking for. Not all, but most of mine involve drugs, weed at the least. If any of the following spark your interest, let me know, and I'll tell the longer version. If you're not interested in that sort of story, don't read it, but here they are:

Spoiler: A misspent youth

In no particular order,
1997 We construct Voltron the Thunder Bong, a five-foot-tall, four-inch thick monstrosity of tubes and hoses that detaches to become 3 smaller bongs.
1995 My friends take me to a gay club for my first time. I'm 15, but the nice man in the tiny shorts and utility belt full of liquor sneaks me a shot of tequila.
1993 The first time I get stoned, I end up having to go to the church to help the youth group babysit during the church bizarre. (No, I was not left in charge of any small children.)
1998 My girlfriend and future stalker tells me one of (only one of) the craziest things I'll ever hear a girlfriend say: "I must talk about you all the time, because my cat already learned to say your name."
1997 My girlfriend and I are only one of several couples using our friend's four-foot tall attic space as a motel, so to speak. It's a little skeezy, but where are you gonna go at 17? That house was also the first place I projectile vomited on a ton of beer, not in the attic, though. On a less disgusting note, the owner, a 21 year old, introduces me to blues music, which I love to this day.
1996 The girl I'm dating is dating two guys at the same time. On Halloween, we both happen to give her an ultimatum on the same night. She chooses me, and we date seriously for 9 months. She's my first love, and I have no idea at the time that she's still sleeping with him the whole time and cheats on me with several good friends.
1995 Three friends and I get caught smoking cigarettes outside before school. Punishment involved a paddle for one of my friends.
1996 A friend and I drop acid for the first time and go to a rock show at a coffee shop. Later, we play chess against his mom's dog.
1998 I'm hanging out with a totally platonic friend when her boyfriend gets home. He convinces himself we slept together and throws me clear across the room.
1998 A friend's Morman parents leave town for a week, and we have basically a week long hot tub party complete with weed and alcohol in copious amounts.
1999 We trip on Dramamine in my friends' dorm room. It turns out to be a bad idea.
1999 At the same dorm, most of my friends and I are put in our sober friend's custody for the night. The campus police issue him paperwork and everything.
1997 I accidentally drink bong water three times in the same night on mushrooms, and not once was it my fault. (That one's a long story.)
1996 Some friends and I are picked up for curfew violation on Easter. I have weed in my pocket.
1996 My friends make a pumpkin hash pie for Thanksgiving. My friend's aunt's tiny dog ends up eating half of it.
1998 Tripped on acid in a hotel room in Tulsa on Halloween because my friend and I chickened out when we saw the goth club where we were supposed to meet his sister.
1995 At an underground punk show, a large punk I've never met but will be friends with later steps between me and a dude who wants to kick my ass for being a hippy.
1993 My girlfriend pulls out a Bowie knife while we're making out in her room.
1997 My girlfriend and a friend and I get chased by a couple of rednecks in a pickup until we pull over in a parking lot with two cop cars in it. Then we have to talk to cops on acid.
1996 My friend's girlfriend talks us into kissing. First time I kiss a boy.

 

OH HELL YEAH!! Did you ever light all three bowls at once? Oh my bad—I just realized, you couldn't have bowls on all three, each one would need to be connected to the next where the bowl goes.

We made one from my mom's Craftsman vacuum cleaner parts that we called The Reaper, and later I got really ambitious and made one on a camera tripod that used a fifth bottle of Jack Daniels for the water chamber and had a four foot long barrel. The end was open, and it took two people to operate it—one had to light it and hold a hand over the open end of the tube (basically a huge steamroller), and then release it to clear the tube when the hit was over. We just called it the Tripod. We made so many bongs and beer bongs.

 

For some reason, I'm very good at being misunderstood. I specifically said in my first post I was looking for stories, that is, specific things. I was never in the hunt for broad strokes, and if I come across as sharp, it's because I'm so frustrated people are trying to tell me what I'm thinking, when I'm not thinking anything of the sort. It feels like I'm being talked down to.

I don't mean to be rude, and I do appreciate your guys' help. Thanks for the notes.

 

Sorry I came across that way. I didn't mean that you were looking for broad strokes, rather, I was saying that it's up to you to get past that specificity qualifier you have emplaced, and to do so via your own creativity as a writer. You're welcome to disagree with that. I don't think you're being rude at all.

 

This thing was completely modular. When connected, it bubbled through three chambers. When detached, bowls screwed into each.

 

*AWESTRUCK*

 

This just occurred to me. I think there may be a rule about not talking about this stuff.

Edit: Wait. That's another site I'm thinking of. Never mind.

 

I suffered from testosterone poisoning during my entire tenure of high school, which seriously screwed me up. As a result, I wasted a LOT of time desperately searching for a cure for virginity. (Mine!) I knew HOW, just couldn't find a donor for the required bodily fluid swapping. (Didn't happen until I was 21 but that's another story for another time, possibly another forum).

There was this one memorable adventure where my friends & I went to this place called Goat Man's Bridge. It has since been the location of an episode of Ghost Adventures. Creepy place. You can Google it if you want to, it's in Denton County, Texas, USA. It's an ancient iron trestle bridge spanning a creek. Lots of high schoolers would gather there to party. One lane bridge, wooden slat planking. The road leading to it is a narrow, 2 lane gravel road, heavily wooded (at the time, by now I'm sure it's been taken over by developers and all cut down), the kind of woods that create an arch over you for maybe a mile, like a tunnel. Just driving through it gives a spooky vibe. It was in December so all the trees were devoid of foliage, giving it a haunted look. The whole time we're driving there, I'm hearing about the legends of this bridge. Devil worshipers go there to perform their dark, forbidden ceremonies. The KKK have used it to lynch and hang unfortunate black people they captured. Witches have had orgies under the bridge. It's been the site of murders and suicides.

We get there and sloooooowly drive over it, the windows down. As we are crossing it, we can hear it creaking and groaning, as if it's ready to fall down into the ravine. About halfway across, the driver stomps on the brakes, and we can feel the bridge sway under us. It's rusty brown, looks almost like an old railroad bridge. Maybe a century old. We drive to the other side and get out. Our "guide" informs us that when the weather is right, if it's a full moon and there's a fog out, if you call to him, the Goat Man will appear in the mist and float towards you, levitating the entire way above the creek. If he appears, you MUST give an offering, preferably a blood offering. If you fail to do so, you or someone you know will DIE in short order. Then he goes on to describe the Goat Man - half man, half goat. From the waste down, he's a goat, waist up he's a man, but with a goat's head. You know, your typical devil iconography.

But it wasn't our night, only fog was our breath, too cloudy to even see if the moon was out, much less a full moon. It's a good 20-30 foot drop to the creek bed, with stones and boulders under the bridge. It's littered with beer cans and bottles, trash and litter from kids coming out to party, but the night we went there we had the place to ourselves. And let me tell you, from the looks of the place, the drive to it, coupled with the dark tales we were told of that place, I got a spooky vibe from it. Maybe it might have been the beer and pot we consumed earlier that evening to have contributed to it, leaving us more influenced by the story. We stayed 15, maybe 20 minutes until the chill of the winter night got too much and we left.

I never went back there, not until I was in my 20s, when I took my teenage cousin and her friends there. Just on a whim, I had only been there once before and I was under the influence of drugs and alcohol the 1st time I had visited it, but I drove straight to it. The roads had changed, the area wasn't as rural as before, the suburbs had grown closer, but it was like I had some kind of internal compass to guide me. The side road leading to the bridge was now a 2 lane blacktop. This time I was the tour guide. I told the same stories and legends. And by the looks on their faces, they felt the same as I had on my 1st visit.

Last time I was there was 20 years ago, with my fiancee (now my 2nd wife). Same deal, more urban development, roads were wider (now 6 lanes with a suicide middle turn lane), billboards, apartment complexes, new side roads. But again, I was following the weird psychic compass, and it took me right to it. Woods were still there, albeit shorter now, and the 2 lane road going through the woods leading to the bridge was now paved. But when we got to the bridge, the road detoured and crossed the creek a few hundred feet away. HOWEVER, the original bridge still stood behind a concrete barrier along with a bronze memorial plack, it had been restored & painted. Now it's just a pedestrian bridge. There was a street light illuminating the area that didn't exist in my youth. All the litter was gone, there was a trash can & a park style bench to sit at nearby. The spooky vibe was there, although it was like it had been neutered & declawed, only a meer shadow of what it used to be. THIS was what Zac Baggins and his crew from Ghost Adventures visited. I read that that episode was one of his scariest to have made, his girlfriend was a crew member (camera operator) who broke up with him and quit over the experience they had at that location. Dude, you should have been there in the 80s when I saw it in all its spooky, haunted glory.

I hope this helps with your "research". If you're looking for ideas to include in a coming of age story you're writing, feel free to use this. I'm just 1 of maybe a 1000 or more kids to have visited Goat Man's bridge and got scared just a little.

 

Everyone loves a good ghost story.
Also: Welcome to the forum.
The rules are: If you post, and a @big soft moose man drifts out of the fog towards you, you must give an offering, preferably in ink.