Saturday, October 10, 2009

What Makes Them Good Girls Go Bad?

For the most part, I'm a goody two shoes. Growing up I was always the teacher's pet, eager to please and gather gold stars next to my name. I'd call home if the train ride after school was delayed. I didn't chase after boys or wear suggestive clothing. And cursing has never been my thing.

Perhaps it's because I never rebelled during my teenage years that I now find myself wishing I could be bad if only for a little while. Yes, there have been a few times when my lapse in judgment led to some out-of-character behavior (click on "Want more?" below the LinkWithin widget to read about three such moments), but sometimes I feel like I don't have enough juicy stories. Not that living is defined by the number of times you get into trouble or put yourself in danger, but constantly following rules and taking everyone else into consideration seems so, well, dry as toast.

There's this rush that comes with shedding my daytime persona, letting my hair down, the glasses at home and slipping into a wild child outfit. The strut changes with the attitude and the city night becomes the soundtrack. And the attention emboldens me. I laugh, I dance, I tease. I dare to glance at him a second longer...before smiling and then slowly looking away, wondering what's going through his head right then. In mine I question if he'd still think I was attractive if my skirt weren't riding up so high.

But hours after midnight, it all starts to revert. My energy zapped, I just crave a hair band, warm PJs and bed. And as I wipe away the mascara and the silvery eye shadow, I realize, I also want someone who'd want me on the good days as much as on the very bad. All I know is for now, this inner she wolf is going to keep begging to go out and play...and her calls keep getting louder.


Like I'd mentioned before, I don't have too many memorable/ questionable moments, but here are some. I don't regret a single one.

- A month-long trip to France. Our director telling us that we were forbidden to go to Atmosphere, a Dijon club frequented by many foreigners. The reason: 9/11 had only just occurred eight months earlier and there were worries of more attacks on places were Americans could congregate. The penalty: get kicked out of the program and find your way back to the States.

But kids are young. They feel invincible. One night I finally joined the rest of the kids on their routine outing. To tell you the truth, I don't remember much about the club. I think I played pool and didn't drink. What I do remember is one of the kids running up to us saying the director had unexpectedly popped in to see if any of her students had dared to disobey. I remember a bunch of us running outside, hailing a cab, cramming inside like circus clowns and getting back to the hostel. I remember each of us sneaking past the front desk one-by-one as to not raise any eyebrows. I remember plopping down on my bed completely terrified and exhilarated about what I'd just done.

- A trip to visit a high school friend in San Diego. A late-night drive to the border and walking over to Tijuana for seedy night clubs, God awful beer (my first drinks) and canoodling with a certain friend of hers who could not leave my neck alone.

A couple days later, we stayed over at another girl's house and went to an Irish pub and got my first kiss by a marine named Justin. If that wasn't bad enough, the girls (both married), Justin and I went with his other marine buddy to his house. Make out session continued.

Until I was over it. After a while, the two guys fell asleep (watching an SNL DVD), we quietly called a cab and snuck out undetected leaving nothing behind.

- A drive into Canada for a night with a grad school buddy and about five of her undergrad guy friends. Let's just say after beers, trying to keep up with the guys, earning the nickname Dynamo and getting sick at a strip club, it was one for the books. I've only been that level of sick once after - this past July 4th.


  1. Ten cuidado, being bad is not for the faint of heart. I, too, wished I had taken more risks as a younger gal. Jeez, I didn't even take advantage of living in a whole nother state for four years, but alas... regrets are not my thing. It is what it is. I'm not so much taking risks now, just trying to do what makes me happy and no longer trying to please others (you know damn well who I'm referring to). Man, is it hard. All my life having made them somewhat proud of me, and now that's down the drain. I haven't been able to drown them out of my head completely, now it's like muffled screams, so I'm getting there, lol

    We were fools I tell ya. I mean who the hell calls home because the train was a little late? Not David. lol

    You mentioned going out all skankalicious and then craving your pjs and a scrunchy. I like that. I like having a balance between the two. My God, my body is not built to be out partying 24/7 and neither are my feet. I am not heel savvy.

    I don't necessarily consider them good days or bad days, just glammed up and dressed down, lol.

    P.S. Thanks for getting that song stuck in my head now... punk.

  2. Dear little sister...(don't shed no tears)

    Yeah, kid we spoiled those two. We'd come running in fear as soon as mom called out our names through the kitchen window. And God forbid she caught us talking to a boy. Y si, my friends and I would gather up our 25 cents to call home if the train was messed up. I remember calling collect a couple times too. Now kids pop out the womb with a BlackBerry.

    But eh, at least we're holding our own now without kids in tow. I think that was their biggest fear considering the influences we grew up with (and the fact that they did not want to be "shamed" like a lot of their friends were).

    You'd think it'd be easier to do as you wish when you're no longer under their watchful eye, but darn that good and strict parenting!! It goes with you wherever you go! And I have to thank them for that. For giving us a good head on shoulders (even if it's fill with nothing but a ginormous conscience).

    Ha, you were off in Boston and you had no time for anything other than study. Same here. I never even went out drinking and clubbing til I passed that four-year gauntlet.

    Yes, I do both- bummy chic and slutty hot - but the balance is seriously tilted toward the regular, dressed down casual look. Plus, I'm not used to revealing so much so then I feel super exposed! Takes practice I guess.

    All I know is I need to get this out my system soon. I don't want to still do this long after it's considered inappropriate (but I think that'll be when I hit 50 because maybe then I'll look 30.) Although, that's what the term cougar is for...

    By the way, when I said good days vs bad days, I meant it as when I dressed casual and decent vs when I spiced it up a couple notches.

  3. No Woman, No Cry...

    Omg those patio days. Sweet jesus. Both simultaneously fun and nerve-wrecking. Lol to you looking for change to call home, lol. And please, yes they pop out of the womb electronically and technologically prepared for this big bad world, but they dont be using their phones to call home, HA! Hate to break it to you, but that was just us... yes, really.

    O.k. yes, we don't have kids, but I SWEAR whatever age we do bear children, it'll still be a bad thing. ESPECIALLY if it's out of wedlock, oh our poor little bastard children will be raised sans grandpa and grandma. Let's not forget, I am still at an age where I can shame them.. Oh the pressure to take that little pill every single day sin falta!

    You may be grateful for the strict parenting, I, however, am not! Dorkys, I live in FEAR! I walk the streets paranoid! That rainy day I saw you, I saw the car and gasped, OUT LOUD, and started tiptoeing and walking mad slow, as if the man could hear me. And God forbid I moved too fast and he caught a whiff of my scent. Then I saw he was with you and felt safe again. You're my protective shield.

    ::Sigh:: bummy/bohemian chic, I remember that terminology. didn't we go to forever 21 one day and left and right all we saw was bohemian chic? lol

    P.S. When you're too old to party (if ever), just wear ur heels to bed to get it out of your system =]

  4. This was a great post. Very honest and real. I agree, while it is fun to be crazy and wild every once in a while, ultimately we are all good and that is what we want.

  5. Unfortunately for me I DID rebel in my teenage years so by the time I was in my twenties I was worn out! Now I'm in my thirties, the prospect of a night on the town terrifies me. Although I did buy myself tickets for Glastonbury this year in an attempt to hang on to my youth!!!

    Just saw your kind comment on my blog from the other day! Thanks so much for your lovely words. Who knows, you may find yourself in my shoes yourself one day!!! (eeek!)

    Lots of love

    LBM xxxxxx

  6. I don't know what makes good girls go bad. I just know you aren't one of them. :)

    Your story of Tijuana brings back many memories for me.

    I was in Orange County, just south of Los Angeles with a co-worker, for a two week long training session on a new document management system, when he decided he needed to go to Mexico because he had never been there. Despite my saying, "You don't really want to go to Tijuana!" we piled into the rental car and went to the border.

    He bought a whole bunch of stuff, a basket, some blankets and other things and had had a couple of those very large drinks so he could just barely carry it all. When we we in line coming back through Customs into the USA, he handed me about half of it to carry. I was right behind him in line, but just as we got to the inspection point, another line opened and I was directed to go there immediately.

    I was waved through without more than a glance and proceeded outside to wait for my co-worker.

    I waited, and waited, and waited and waited some more. At long last, white as a sheet, he stumbled out and says, "Where did you go?!?" I explained to him what had happened to me, and asked, "So what was the hold up?"

    He said, when asked by the Customs officer, "Why were you in Tijuana?" he had replied, not bothering to look back at where I would have been, "I was here as a tourist with my good friend, here." pointing behind him to a very dirty, mexican dressed in rags.

    As luck would have it, the mexican spoke no English and didn't know what was going on, except that the big american guy with all the stuff in line in front of him was being held up, so he left the line to go to one that was moving.

    Apparently that caused all heck to break loose as the Customs officer questioning my friend thought he was trying to evade inspection.

    Anyway, after a lot of yelling and confusion, they let my co-worker through.

  7. My rebelling was getting a tattoo. ;)

    PS Thank you for stopping by on my special day!

  8. I was never bad in school. Now that I think of it, I've never been truly unruly.

  9. Gabe Saporta makez them go bad, apparently.

  10. I was a good girl... Until I hit my 13th birthday. Then my Mam told me to go back to being 12, because aapparently she liked me better then. I was a real cow between the ages of 13 and 18. I calmed down after that though. Which is lucky, since I was only 18 & 1/2 when I got married... My last rebellious act. ;)

    I still have a stubborn streak, and can be quite willful. But I'm more of a good girl again these days.

  11. I really liked this post. I was a rule follower, so I get this. I want to say so much, but what keeps coming out is how much I liked this post.


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