Well...you dared me!

I had to pull out my high school graduation photo after seeing those posted by some of my fellow journalers.

Ahhhh, memories. Yep, this is me.  Class of 1971.  Geez, look at those eyebrows.  I am so glad I've had braces on my teeth since this was taken.

Ten miles from the beach in Orange County, California, I spent high school days and sweet summers in the sun, as a real surfer girl. My hair, streaked with "Summer Blonde" highlights, parted right down the middle and ironed, yes ironed….with a real clothes iron, to make it hang straight as a board. Just like all of the other OC girls.

I wasn’t much of a surfer…but I won the guy’s admiration for trying. Mostly it was a way to hang out with the surfer boys in my neighborhood, and get rides to Huntington Beach where the guys rode the "boss" waves near the pier and all of us girls baked our baby oil/iodined bodies in the sun, and looked really "bitchen!"

We ate "strips" which was a precursor to today’s nachos. Basically, a delicacy of sandy tortilla chips with taco or barbecue sauce drizzled on top, that we bought from high priced food stands on the beach. If we had enough money left at the end of the day, we’d gorge on cheap tacos and burritos from Del Taco on the ride home.

We had occasional parties around the fire rings at night, drinking cheap Ripple wine, listening to the Beach Boys sing, "Help Me Rhonda" and "Surfer Girl" until the night patrol would run us off. Like all teens, we thought we were immortal. We’d never wear seatbelts as we’d hang out of the car windows, half-drunk and cruise to find more fun or parties.

I am amazed this beach beauty is alive to tell the story. I don’t know what would have been worse, my mother killing me for coming home drunk, or falling out of the Woody on the highway!