my journey with truth

January 24, 1997

Posted on: September 25, 2010

Dear Beatrice,
Sorry I haven’t written in a long time.  I need to update my favorites.  The only difference is that instead of Blake Cash being my favorite guy, Ian Witherspoon as my favorite guy.  He has longish (sort of) brown hair with the most beautiful blue
eyes I have ever seen.  He has braces and the best smile.  The only problem is he likes Sarah, I think.  He asked her to dance with him at the sock hop/cotillion.  Today I went bowling instead of P.E. and Connections.  This Sunday is Super Bowl XXXI.  Greenbay is playing the Patriots.  I guess that’s all I have to say for now.  I ❤ IAN WITHERSPOON!!!!

See Ya,
Lizzie

I ❤ I.W.

Oh right.  I think I remember Ian Witherspoon.  He was sort of medium-cute…

J/K!  I TOTALLY remember Ian Witherspoon.  Though I only really saw him at the monthly cotillion dances, I was pretty smitten by his blue (why underline that adjective?) eyes, and the fact that he was super nice, not that distant or impersonal, more-like-tolerant kind of nice.  Plus, I think I remember he laughed a lot at my jokes (and if you know me at all, you know how much laughing at my jokes can totally transform my esteem for a person).

And I think I liked the idea that if we ended up getting married, I could keep my initials.  I guess it’s ok we didn’t end up together since I’m probably keeping my name.  No need to keep Ian around to keep my initials.

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2 Responses to "January 24, 1997"

i really like the name Ian Witherspoon. can we get more deets on this cotillion stuff? like why you were going?

What can I say… cotillion is something you do. Or rather, it’s something you hope to get invited to do. My cotillion group was probably not up to National League of Junior Cotillions’ standards, but we were videotaped and shown on the Austin Independent School District TV Station (for some strange reason).

I think it was just a “socialize your middle school children” thing – once a month you get dressed up and go to a dance where you learn different ballroom dances and maybe some fancy table manners (and I swear that our dance instructor’s name was also Ms. Bobbie like my childhood dance instructor… weird). I think parents provided the food, and we learned things like which fork, using a spoon to eat spaghetti, leaving your napkin in your seat, etc. We danced the foxtrot, salsa, waltz, etc.

It wasn’t really a “keep your kids off the street” thing, but more like a middle class, southern, status thing. It was sort of like a very small reach into the past which was also supposed to be a reach up in class. Strangely, cotillion was not at all something the upper classes did, though. At least not like we did it.

I went because my friends were all there (my group had kids from several different middle schools, so there were friends I didn’t get to see all the time at cotillion) and though you had to dance with creeper boys, you also got to dance with cute boys. And my parents made me go.

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  • myjourneywithtruth: i had it in my office at my internship in Corpus Christi two summers ago. ellen davis is brilliant and glows with an aura of holy.
  • amy h: i love this quote. i think i may need it hanging on my wall where i'll see it daily. perhaps in front of the toilet? by the door? bedside table? i'll
  • chaz: That post made me really sad too. Mostly because I want to take young Lizzie by the shoulders and shake her (gently?) into sublime realization that sh

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