The summer after my 7th grade year my family moved from Rancho Cordova, CA to Normal, IL. I’ll give you a second to look on the map. It’s about 2 hours south of Chicago. It’s part of a group called the Twin Cities Bloomington / Normal, IL. Two cities that overlap. We moved because my dad worked for Statefarm and their headquarters are in Bloomington. What’s Normal like? Flat, Covered in Corn, slow. Honestly, really really nice. I loved it there. I made some great friends a few which I still keep in contact with “Hey Sara! Hey Lissette!” also stop reading because this is embarrassing.
The thing about moving in the Summer, when you arrive you don’t know anyone because teenagers typically meet friends at school. Especially middle schoolers. My parents tried to get me friends by joining the local boy scout group. Yes, I’m a boy scout. Don’t be to impressed, I only made it to star scout. But, to this day I have a profound love for the outdoors and fire. I can’t tie a knot to save my life but I love camping!
The first kid I met was Richard. At first I pretended I wasn’t home… Any friend my parents picked would probably be lame so I stayed alone. Eventually Richard became one of my best friends, we had a lot of fun. Thanks for the good times Richard!
If you were wondering, people in Illinois do assume that people from California live near or on the beach and know how to surf. Basically they assume I’m the main character from the 90s movie “Airborne.” Watch it if you haven’t seen it, quality cinema. Especially the Seth Green fashion montage.
While I was there I didn’t have a job but I wanted to do things with my friends. The Summer after my 8th grade year came along and I decided to do a seasonal job called “roging” or “shucking” something like that. Basically you walk through corn fields with a hoe and cut down “bad corn.” As far as I understood this meant corn that was significantly taller or more undeveloped than the other corn. More than likely I cut down a lot of good corn and got paid for costing the farmer profits. This job sounds terrible but it was fun. Until that fateful day.
One particularly hot day I believe it was 105 with 100% humidity (the thing I hated about Illinois). If you were curious 105 degrees with 100% humidity feels like walking through 120 degree sweat all day. Needless to say it messed with my body. Sometime after lunch I had to go to the bathroom bad. Something wasn’t sitting right. Unfortunately, the port-o-potty wasn’t close so I ran as fast as I could to get to it in time. I didn’t. Without being to graphic I recall it not being the cleanest of mishaps and I had to go the rest of the day with soiled undergarments.
When I returned home, I didn’t say a word. I got changed. I walked my soiled undergarments across the street to my neighbors garbage can and threw them away. I didn’t want those in my house, I wanted to get rid of that memory forever. Eighteen ish years later I’m writing a blog about it. Funny how that works…
What about you any embarrassing stories?