photobooth friday

One of my best friends in junior high was Nat. Nat was actually her middle name. She's from Thailand, and her full name I wouldn't do justice trying to spell. Her first and last name were each four syllables long, so telling people her name was 'Nat' was much easier than trying to get them to pronounce her full name correctly.

We haven't talked in many years. We lost touch a while after she went on vacation with my family for a week. When we returned from the trip, her mom picked her up at our house and informed her they had moved while we were gone. She went to a new school that was a little more "ghetto" than the one we'd been going to together.

Shortly after she moved, one of our mutual friends (who, for the sake of this story I'll call Stacy) began talking badly about Nat behind her back, joking that Nat was turning into a slut, was going to get pregnant, etc. One day, I abruptly stopped talking to Stacy, because I didn't like her saying mean things about someone we were both friends with, then pretending to be friends with her to her face. Nat seemed to think Stacy was a good friend, and didn't understand why I stopped talking to her. I never told Nat why I did it, because it would have required me to tell her the things Stacy was saying about her. Looking back on this, I think I did the right thing, though I always felt bad about it. I think this misunderstanding led to Nat becoming close friends with Stacy, and me losing touch with both of them. Ahhh, teen drama.

This picture was taken on Nat's 13th birthday, July 2, 1992, when she and I went with another friend to the Americana Amusement Park. There are also pictures of the three of us, but I'll save those for another time.

Please note my fantastically crooked teeth. What wonderfully awkward days those were.

More stories captured in photobooths by the wonderful hulaseventy and others, found here!