By Valentina Caval
Editor-in-Chief

Ten years ago today I was plopped down on my couch with a box of Dunkaroos tuned into my favorite TV show.

“Fee-He-He-Heenay” rings in my ears as the most memorable sound of my nearly adolescent years.

The new “Girl Meets World” can’t possibly measure up to the masterpiece of my tween years.

For my viewing pleasure, I rented and bought VHS tapes. Trips to Blockbuster were a weekly treat. Now, I can’t seem to turn off Netflix.

I didn’t just spend my time in front of the TV — I was also an avid reader.

From R.L. Stine’s “Goosebumps” to “The New Adventures of Mary-Kate and Ashley,” you could say I was quite the intellect.

I indulged into the “Harry Potter” series around this time. I bet my mom wishes she had a magic wand to have me complete my piles of chores.

Perhaps books and TV should take the blame for my inability to master laundry until my freshman year of college.

When my eyes were not on the tube or in the books, I used my allowance to buy the latest Pokémon cards I could get my hands on — had to catch them all.

And of course I could not leave the store with just my Pokémon cards; I had to put on my ring pop and feed my candy cigarette habit.

Ten years ago, I discovered something else that I’ve been perfecting to this day — shopping.

Even if I didn’t have a dime to my name I was forever wandering around stores looking for the best bargains.

I did actually go to school when I was twelve years old too. I attended Holy Cross Elementary School. It was a small Catholic school in Maspeth, NY.

I usually pranced through the two-story building with maroon knee-highs, a tie around my neck on top of my white button down and a plaid skirt to complete the uniform.

I only wrote in gel pens and tried to buy all my school supplies from Lisa Frank.

I spent most of my classroom time ignoring lectures — much like today — and staring at whomever I had a crush on that week.

When I was twelve years old, boys stopped having cooties and we had just crossed the bridge from playing heads up seven up to spin the bottle.

That co-ed game used to send chills down my spine. Why would anyone ever want to kiss a boy?  Now, the walk of shame in college is almost a tradition.

Avoiding kissing boys and coming up with creative away messages for my AIM profile page took up most of my preteen years.

The rest is history.

Email Valentina at:
vc7521@live.esu.edu