Today, is an anniversary. First of all it's my parents' anniversary (and, crazy kooks that they are, they're taking me and JW out to dinner... this somehow seems backwards, but who am I, a hungry and broke college student, to complain?).
The popular thing to do these days seems to be divorce. When there's a hitch in the going, the hitched get going, or something like that. Contrariwise, my mom and dad have stayed together through thick and thin, and I admire that.
But their anniversary is not the only one I'm celebrating today. I'm also celebrating my own anniversary, the anniversary of my freedom from my last crap-tastic relationship. I guess it was kind of selfish of me to get dumped on my parents special day, huh? But alas that is how it happened.
I thank that breakup for reminding me how to love God school, for getting me into Adam Ezra Group, for making it permissible to sneak out of monasteries to make out with Italian boys in the middle of the night, and for scaring me into working seriously on my novel (I'm scared to end up like that).
I thank that breakup for acting as foil to the relationship I have now. Without knowing the worst, I would have no idea I'd stumbled upon the best (or been stumbled upon by the best, as the case may be). The most I could muster would be a half-appreciation. JW deserves better than that.
I thank that breakup for re-defining and re-outlining who I am. I'm not your average Christian, but I'm feeling close to God for a change, and I sure couldn't say that last October.
I think we celebrate a lot of frivolous things in our culture (half birthdays, national kids day, etc.), but this isn't one of them. You can celebrate an ending as much as you can a beginning. After all, as Semisonic said many a year ago in the song Closing Time, "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
Peace, love and apple cider,
Miss Rex
Showing posts with label guys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guys. Show all posts
Now I know what Mom went through
If you ever want to know what your mother went through when you were a teenager, try losing your roommate.
As crazy as she is, Taz is a creature of habit. She goes to bed early, gets up early. She hangs out with boys but won't let them touch her. She's random, but not reckless. JW, Jo Yo and I invited her to come see Adam Ezra Group with us tonight, but she declined on the grounds that her sleeping pattern had had a rough week and she wanted to get to bed early.
She made plans to watch an Adam Sandler movie with Abs, one of JW's apartment mates who she might be crushing on a little bit. Last I saw her she was vacuuming our living room in anticipation of his arrival, which was not at all extravagant for her - she goes all out for her boys. She will make a wonderful girlfriend when she finds the right dude.
Fast forward.
Went to the show. Paid three times more than we should've for parking because there was an event at the Agganis Arena next door. Lost tickets, found Rob (bassist), got new tickets for free. Got deafened and danced upon. Didn't stick around for drinks because the show went so long that last call was already over by the time we got out. Came home at 2:10AM to an empty room.
I was just going to go to sleep when it struck me how very odd it was that Taz was still out. It would have been less odd if she hadn't specifically said she wanted to go to bed early... but it still would have worried me. So I did what my mother always taught me I should do at at time like this.
I panicked.
Cue frantic phone calls, texts to JW asking if Abs was in the apartment (his light was off and JW was worried he'd wake up the roomie, so we never did find out), midnight wake-up call for Mnomanoms, and (half an hour later) a last-ditch effort sprint to the dining hall. I expected Lane to be closed at such an hour, but it was the last place Taz had told anyone she would be and the last place I could get into without a key to search for her.
It was open. This was the first time I've ever looked at our dining hall as a beacon of hope, and will most likely be the last. Sure enough I found Taz and Abs sitting on a couch downstairs, just talking. Taz was quick to point out that my fly was down. I was quick to point out that I'd been halfway into my PJs before the notion struck me that she was probably floating face down in Coy Pond and I had better go find her.
So, Mom, this post is for you. For the random times I didn't make it home when I said I would, or somehow failed to communicate what time I would actually be home, and for all the times I was over friends' houses with no cell phone reception (which was usually, because everyone I know lives in dead zones)... I'm sorry.
Peace, love, and undead roomies,
Miss Rex
As crazy as she is, Taz is a creature of habit. She goes to bed early, gets up early. She hangs out with boys but won't let them touch her. She's random, but not reckless. JW, Jo Yo and I invited her to come see Adam Ezra Group with us tonight, but she declined on the grounds that her sleeping pattern had had a rough week and she wanted to get to bed early.
She made plans to watch an Adam Sandler movie with Abs, one of JW's apartment mates who she might be crushing on a little bit. Last I saw her she was vacuuming our living room in anticipation of his arrival, which was not at all extravagant for her - she goes all out for her boys. She will make a wonderful girlfriend when she finds the right dude.
Fast forward.
Went to the show. Paid three times more than we should've for parking because there was an event at the Agganis Arena next door. Lost tickets, found Rob (bassist), got new tickets for free. Got deafened and danced upon. Didn't stick around for drinks because the show went so long that last call was already over by the time we got out. Came home at 2:10AM to an empty room.
I was just going to go to sleep when it struck me how very odd it was that Taz was still out. It would have been less odd if she hadn't specifically said she wanted to go to bed early... but it still would have worried me. So I did what my mother always taught me I should do at at time like this.
I panicked.
Cue frantic phone calls, texts to JW asking if Abs was in the apartment (his light was off and JW was worried he'd wake up the roomie, so we never did find out), midnight wake-up call for Mnomanoms, and (half an hour later) a last-ditch effort sprint to the dining hall. I expected Lane to be closed at such an hour, but it was the last place Taz had told anyone she would be and the last place I could get into without a key to search for her.
It was open. This was the first time I've ever looked at our dining hall as a beacon of hope, and will most likely be the last. Sure enough I found Taz and Abs sitting on a couch downstairs, just talking. Taz was quick to point out that my fly was down. I was quick to point out that I'd been halfway into my PJs before the notion struck me that she was probably floating face down in Coy Pond and I had better go find her.
So, Mom, this post is for you. For the random times I didn't make it home when I said I would, or somehow failed to communicate what time I would actually be home, and for all the times I was over friends' houses with no cell phone reception (which was usually, because everyone I know lives in dead zones)... I'm sorry.
Peace, love, and undead roomies,
Miss Rex
Chapstick, Chapped Lips, and Things Like Chemistry
On my way back from chapel this morning, I caught JW on his way to class and said hi. Like any good girlfriend I gave him a hug and a kiss and said I'd see him later.
Not two minutes went by and I got a text saying, "Put on chapstick. I just took half a stick from you :)"
I smiled; JW always notices and pokes fun at me when I'm wearing Chapstick. Secretly, I sometimes use the mentholated kind on purpose because he's so cute when he can't figure out why his lips are tingling. But it made me wonder - what is it with me and Chapstick? I've had this crazy obsession with it for as long as I can remember. I keep three sticks of it in my purse at all times.
And I'm not even as bad as I used to be. I used to refuse to go to sleep without putting some on because (in the words of the monstrously over-quoted Napoleon Dynamite) "my lips hurt real bad."
Which has led to some interesting developments. Ravin and TPO will remember the first time Ex slept at my house, which was before we were together - in fact, it was the first time we'd even really hung out. The four of us were going to stay up all night but Ex and I got tired and decided to go to sleep. My lips were dry, so I put on lip balm, and BAM! Make-out sesh.
I really did want to sleep that night, too.
I think that was when I learned that you shouldn't put nice-tasting things on your lips if you don't want someone else trying to taste it, no matter how bad your lips hurt. Dammit, Ex. This is why we can't have nice things.
Even before that, at the beginning of college, I did a twelve-day orientation/survival stint in the woods sans soap, shampoo, and deodorant. I brought mentholated lip balm and all week long I just kept saying that it was the only luxury I had in the world. I would put it on and smack my lips and go "mmmm...."
I've thought about it all day, and I've come to the conclusion that Relient K is to blame for everything. Their 2003 album "Two Lefts Don't Make a Right (but Three Do)" was the first album I remember falling in love with. And track number one was all about - you guessed it - Chapstick.
They're also to blame for my subsequent obsessions with mood rings (track two), the 80's (track five), speaking in gibberish (track 13), Canadians (their lead singer hails from the great white north), and boys in plaid (said lead singer also wears plaid 95% of the time).
It's good to know that the things you love as a teen will affect you for the rest of your life.
Peace, love, and good-night sleep-tight don't-let-the-bedbugs-bite,
Miss Rex
Not two minutes went by and I got a text saying, "Put on chapstick. I just took half a stick from you :)"
I smiled; JW always notices and pokes fun at me when I'm wearing Chapstick. Secretly, I sometimes use the mentholated kind on purpose because he's so cute when he can't figure out why his lips are tingling. But it made me wonder - what is it with me and Chapstick? I've had this crazy obsession with it for as long as I can remember. I keep three sticks of it in my purse at all times.
And I'm not even as bad as I used to be. I used to refuse to go to sleep without putting some on because (in the words of the monstrously over-quoted Napoleon Dynamite) "my lips hurt real bad."
Which has led to some interesting developments. Ravin and TPO will remember the first time Ex slept at my house, which was before we were together - in fact, it was the first time we'd even really hung out. The four of us were going to stay up all night but Ex and I got tired and decided to go to sleep. My lips were dry, so I put on lip balm, and BAM! Make-out sesh.
I really did want to sleep that night, too.
I think that was when I learned that you shouldn't put nice-tasting things on your lips if you don't want someone else trying to taste it, no matter how bad your lips hurt. Dammit, Ex. This is why we can't have nice things.
Even before that, at the beginning of college, I did a twelve-day orientation/survival stint in the woods sans soap, shampoo, and deodorant. I brought mentholated lip balm and all week long I just kept saying that it was the only luxury I had in the world. I would put it on and smack my lips and go "mmmm...."
I've thought about it all day, and I've come to the conclusion that Relient K is to blame for everything. Their 2003 album "Two Lefts Don't Make a Right (but Three Do)" was the first album I remember falling in love with. And track number one was all about - you guessed it - Chapstick.
They're also to blame for my subsequent obsessions with mood rings (track two), the 80's (track five), speaking in gibberish (track 13), Canadians (their lead singer hails from the great white north), and boys in plaid (said lead singer also wears plaid 95% of the time).
It's good to know that the things you love as a teen will affect you for the rest of your life.
Peace, love, and good-night sleep-tight don't-let-the-bedbugs-bite,
Miss Rex
It was nice, knowing everything there was to know.
Senior year of high school, my present writing voice began to emerge.
I finally accepted who I was and where I stood in the social structure - completely.
I had a lot to say about the topic I knew least about: love.
I became a passionate person. I was passionately Christian, passionately angry at a lot of people for a lot of reasons, passionately counter-culture, and even passionately confused.
So I guess not a lot has changed. I'm just passionate about different issues, or the same issues but from different angles.
Words from my seventeen-year-old self:
ON FRIENDS:
Ravin said i had big feet, so Ash decided to try on my shoes, so i stole his, and then i drove him home, and when i pulled into my garage, i looked down and realized..... that i was STILL WEARING his shoes. i mean, they felt EXACTLY LIKE my shoes but on a slightly larger scale. which makes sense, because i HAVE the exact same shoes on a slightly smaller scale.
i know that there are some of you who... attempted to make me "tall and stout" one year because you didnt think i could look fat, but you know what, i have just one word for you..... snowgear.
Kim gave me pocky and koalas. i love kim.
saturday night after the semi, we went to shaws with Ravin and Lonewlf to get juicy juice, and Lonewlf comes running up to us with a huge package of pads and goes, "LOOK! TAMPONS!" and we had to explain that those weren't tampons.
i escaped to the kitchen to call Ash and ask him about his koto, which was in my house for half a week and i never told him about.
i told [Erny] i was ryan ross, who is really a member of panic! at the disco... little did she know that Wanda and i invented ryan ross the sophomore and were really referring to her sister the whole time.
Lonewlf decided to wear his "hot pants" and nothing else. Lonewlf's hot pants are a pair of girl jeans cut so short that you can see the ends of his boxers poking out at the bottom... [then he] pretended my emergency blanket was a cape. now i have to wash it because it has been on his mostly naked body.
ON PARENTS:
EVERYBODY says that about their parents, and I usually think theyre just exaggerating, but Im telling you, the guy is a total kangaroo.
on friday night, my mom and i frolicked in the church parking lot.
ON RELATIONSHIPS:
It all began with "…two North Dakota… three North Dakota…" in the darkroom.
i dont know. one minute we were talking about werewolves, and the next, he invited me to the prom.
I hate the way dudes just throw "I love you" around like beer in a mosh pit... If youve been dating somebody for a month, two months, in cara's case five days, or even a year or two, YOU DO NOT LOVE THEM. Okay? You dont. [Author's note: JW has proven me wrong on this point. Nuff said.]
Ash tried to be the psychologist and told me that i'm just jealous because i think i'm going to be lonely forever.
there are a heck of a lot of things i could do that i would regret more than not doing them, if that made any sense at all. but of course it didnt, because nothing makes sense anymore, and it feels like nothing will ever make sense again.
it's like happy rainbows are coming out my ears or something.
ON ART:
i'm sure there's an actual word for fear of hot glue guns. i mean there is a word for "fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of one's mouth." there's got to be one for glue guns.
[there was a photo] of a kid with a skateboard gazing contemplatively at artwork hanging on a wall. the picture he's looking at is of a hawk, and i insisted it was a reference to tony hawk and how the kid wanted to be just like him. my grandma didnt get it, but i dont think she knows the first thing about tony hawk anyway.
bar chords kill my wrist, which i think is related to the fact that my thumb is not really opposable. i hate my thumbs so much. i swear, one of these days i'm just going to shut it in a car door or something and hope that when it heals from being broken, it will be weirdly bent into a much less awkward position than.... whatever weird shape it is now.
please pardon my logorrhea.
i tend to have epic dreams when i sleep on my stomach... last night/this morning, i got the second half of a dream that inspired me to write a story, which i stopped writing because i didnt know where to go with it, but now i have a better sense of direction, so maybe i can get working on that. [Author's note: This dream, from an entry dated 2006, was the foundation for Before the Empty Moon. Yep, STILL working on that.]
ON SOCIAL GATHERINGS:
they have a mario kart tourney..... funniest thing since sliced bread.......
good goobers, maybe it's happened to me! -what they always say about kids getting addicted to the internet!! and myspace!!!
On our way to the club, this guy in girl pants pointed at my relient k shirt and got all excited and yelled "you're going to the relient k concert! Yay!" or something, and I just sort of watched his little outburst with internalized amusement and continued eating my ice cream like "hello, can't you see i'm busy here?"
i told the bride "happy wedding" (DDR reference, b/c i'm a dork), and when the pastor started speaking, all i could think of was the guy in the princess bride.
ON BABYSITTING:
i really have corrupted the girl i babysat for on saturday. i taught her the meaning of emo, and now she gives me weekly reports on how many emo kids she's counted.
the boy would not go to bed, and finally i said, "all right. i'll read to you some more. let me go find a book." and went and got my systematic theology book, thinking, "this will put him RIGHT to sleep." not so. that rebel child had me read ten pages of impossible-to-pronounce names and titles before he finally conked out.
trust me to deal with flying shards of flaming glass with "LET'S EAT ICE CREAM!"
ON HIGH SCHOOL IN GENERAL:
i'm so used to being on the fringes of the social structure that i can tell everyone i dont care if they reject me, but of course i do. nobody wants to be rejected.
Wanda and I sat on the floor during lunch again.
i used to come home in tears because i couldnt understand why nobody understood me. my word, i was emo all the way back in second grade. i should have known it was hopeless.
I was ignored, as usual. I should just not bother talking, ever.
Let's face it. Just like everything else about school this year, spirit week and homecoming are going to suck. But you know what? I'M GOING TO BE A PIRATE ANYWAY. AND I'M GOING TO WEAR MY 80S SHIRT ON 70S DAY. AND I'M ADDING A NEW SUPERLATIVE CATEGORY FOR MYSELF: Most Likely to Instigate Revolution. Take that, CHS.
today was so long that i looked down at my shirt this afternoon and thought, "mandii, you scrub, you wore the same shirt two days in a row," and then realized that it was still the same day.
never be too "cool" to be a fool or too "old" to be bold. those are lame excuses for thinking small.
i am sick and tired of putting up with the other editors in my independent study, one of whom does not even have authority of any sort over me except in her imagination where she dominates the world because she thinks she is that smart and talented and special.
BRENDON URIE came over and inspected the hot water pots, to no avail, obviously, since they were empty. And then I realized that he had a big Styrofoam cup of ramen in his hand, just like me, and I had to stifle a laugh. Poor kid. He's fueled by ramen, but apparently not today.
eating is so strange. i mean, think about it. theres something in front of you, and then you put it into this big hole in your face and mash it all up, and suddenly it isnt there anymore.
your self-help forum says, "go play in traffic." thank you, and have an EMO DAY.
yesterday was "Senior skip day." needless to say, i went to school and skipped through the halls with my friends and sang, "senior skip day! senior skip day!" everywhere i went.
Peace, love, and reliving the not-so-golden years,
Miss Rex
I finally accepted who I was and where I stood in the social structure - completely.
I had a lot to say about the topic I knew least about: love.
I became a passionate person. I was passionately Christian, passionately angry at a lot of people for a lot of reasons, passionately counter-culture, and even passionately confused.
So I guess not a lot has changed. I'm just passionate about different issues, or the same issues but from different angles.
Words from my seventeen-year-old self:
ON FRIENDS:
Ravin said i had big feet, so Ash decided to try on my shoes, so i stole his, and then i drove him home, and when i pulled into my garage, i looked down and realized..... that i was STILL WEARING his shoes. i mean, they felt EXACTLY LIKE my shoes but on a slightly larger scale. which makes sense, because i HAVE the exact same shoes on a slightly smaller scale.
i know that there are some of you who... attempted to make me "tall and stout" one year because you didnt think i could look fat, but you know what, i have just one word for you..... snowgear.
Kim gave me pocky and koalas. i love kim.
saturday night after the semi, we went to shaws with Ravin and Lonewlf to get juicy juice, and Lonewlf comes running up to us with a huge package of pads and goes, "LOOK! TAMPONS!" and we had to explain that those weren't tampons.
i escaped to the kitchen to call Ash and ask him about his koto, which was in my house for half a week and i never told him about.
i told [Erny] i was ryan ross, who is really a member of panic! at the disco... little did she know that Wanda and i invented ryan ross the sophomore and were really referring to her sister the whole time.
Lonewlf decided to wear his "hot pants" and nothing else. Lonewlf's hot pants are a pair of girl jeans cut so short that you can see the ends of his boxers poking out at the bottom... [then he] pretended my emergency blanket was a cape. now i have to wash it because it has been on his mostly naked body.
ON PARENTS:
EVERYBODY says that about their parents, and I usually think theyre just exaggerating, but Im telling you, the guy is a total kangaroo.
on friday night, my mom and i frolicked in the church parking lot.
ON RELATIONSHIPS:
It all began with "…two North Dakota… three North Dakota…" in the darkroom.
i dont know. one minute we were talking about werewolves, and the next, he invited me to the prom.
I hate the way dudes just throw "I love you" around like beer in a mosh pit... If youve been dating somebody for a month, two months, in cara's case five days, or even a year or two, YOU DO NOT LOVE THEM. Okay? You dont. [Author's note: JW has proven me wrong on this point. Nuff said.]
Ash tried to be the psychologist and told me that i'm just jealous because i think i'm going to be lonely forever.
there are a heck of a lot of things i could do that i would regret more than not doing them, if that made any sense at all. but of course it didnt, because nothing makes sense anymore, and it feels like nothing will ever make sense again.
it's like happy rainbows are coming out my ears or something.
ON ART:
i'm sure there's an actual word for fear of hot glue guns. i mean there is a word for "fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of one's mouth." there's got to be one for glue guns.
[there was a photo] of a kid with a skateboard gazing contemplatively at artwork hanging on a wall. the picture he's looking at is of a hawk, and i insisted it was a reference to tony hawk and how the kid wanted to be just like him. my grandma didnt get it, but i dont think she knows the first thing about tony hawk anyway.
bar chords kill my wrist, which i think is related to the fact that my thumb is not really opposable. i hate my thumbs so much. i swear, one of these days i'm just going to shut it in a car door or something and hope that when it heals from being broken, it will be weirdly bent into a much less awkward position than.... whatever weird shape it is now.
please pardon my logorrhea.
i tend to have epic dreams when i sleep on my stomach... last night/this morning, i got the second half of a dream that inspired me to write a story, which i stopped writing because i didnt know where to go with it, but now i have a better sense of direction, so maybe i can get working on that. [Author's note: This dream, from an entry dated 2006, was the foundation for Before the Empty Moon. Yep, STILL working on that.]
ON SOCIAL GATHERINGS:
they have a mario kart tourney..... funniest thing since sliced bread.......
good goobers, maybe it's happened to me! -what they always say about kids getting addicted to the internet!! and myspace!!!
On our way to the club, this guy in girl pants pointed at my relient k shirt and got all excited and yelled "you're going to the relient k concert! Yay!" or something, and I just sort of watched his little outburst with internalized amusement and continued eating my ice cream like "hello, can't you see i'm busy here?"
i told the bride "happy wedding" (DDR reference, b/c i'm a dork), and when the pastor started speaking, all i could think of was the guy in the princess bride.
ON BABYSITTING:
i really have corrupted the girl i babysat for on saturday. i taught her the meaning of emo, and now she gives me weekly reports on how many emo kids she's counted.
the boy would not go to bed, and finally i said, "all right. i'll read to you some more. let me go find a book." and went and got my systematic theology book, thinking, "this will put him RIGHT to sleep." not so. that rebel child had me read ten pages of impossible-to-pronounce names and titles before he finally conked out.
trust me to deal with flying shards of flaming glass with "LET'S EAT ICE CREAM!"
ON HIGH SCHOOL IN GENERAL:
i'm so used to being on the fringes of the social structure that i can tell everyone i dont care if they reject me, but of course i do. nobody wants to be rejected.
Wanda and I sat on the floor during lunch again.
i used to come home in tears because i couldnt understand why nobody understood me. my word, i was emo all the way back in second grade. i should have known it was hopeless.
I was ignored, as usual. I should just not bother talking, ever.
Let's face it. Just like everything else about school this year, spirit week and homecoming are going to suck. But you know what? I'M GOING TO BE A PIRATE ANYWAY. AND I'M GOING TO WEAR MY 80S SHIRT ON 70S DAY. AND I'M ADDING A NEW SUPERLATIVE CATEGORY FOR MYSELF: Most Likely to Instigate Revolution. Take that, CHS.
today was so long that i looked down at my shirt this afternoon and thought, "mandii, you scrub, you wore the same shirt two days in a row," and then realized that it was still the same day.
never be too "cool" to be a fool or too "old" to be bold. those are lame excuses for thinking small.
i am sick and tired of putting up with the other editors in my independent study, one of whom does not even have authority of any sort over me except in her imagination where she dominates the world because she thinks she is that smart and talented and special.
BRENDON URIE came over and inspected the hot water pots, to no avail, obviously, since they were empty. And then I realized that he had a big Styrofoam cup of ramen in his hand, just like me, and I had to stifle a laugh. Poor kid. He's fueled by ramen, but apparently not today.
eating is so strange. i mean, think about it. theres something in front of you, and then you put it into this big hole in your face and mash it all up, and suddenly it isnt there anymore.
your self-help forum says, "go play in traffic." thank you, and have an EMO DAY.
yesterday was "Senior skip day." needless to say, i went to school and skipped through the halls with my friends and sang, "senior skip day! senior skip day!" everywhere i went.
Peace, love, and reliving the not-so-golden years,
Miss Rex
Sophomore Slump --> Comeback of the Year
I just found out that the website that hosted my OLDEST oldest blog, I mean the one I had even pre-MySpace, is now a website for porn. Which is really sad because I want to see the kinds of things I was writing in middle school and freshman year, although I'm pretty sure it was just more of the same hyperactive drivel and nothing of actual importance.
But to continue with my perusal of my past, we are on to junior year of high school, at which point some kind soul taught me to use the Enter key or MySpace improved their formatting to encompass spaces between paragraphs.
Things of note in junior year:
1. Obsession with bands, especially Relient K, continued.
2. While maintaining a facade of hyperactivity, I managed to get pretty down on myself, which isn't reflected in the quotes I'm posting here, or even really in the old blog. But I caught whiffs of it: brief references to being down or depressed or emo or wondering what's wrong with myself. I only ever quoted really depressing lyrics. And those whiffs reminded me of some of the circumstances and emotions that brought them about, and suffice to say that I just wasn't a very happy person as a junior. I remember Erny later telling me that she was worried about me that year. But I was happy when I was playing guitar.
3. I craved attention. A bunch of my posts mentioned some guys in my gym class/creative writing class who called me "Girl" because they couldn't be bothered to find out my real name, and even that was something I thrived on. I started to feel inadequate over the fact that no guys ever seemed to be romantically interested in me, either at school or at church.
4. I thought EVERYTHING was SCANDALOUS. Oh how things have changed. Penis.
----------------------
so this really cool guy at my youth group, yeah he's really rad and stuff and stuff and yeah, and i might be going to see switchfoot with him! switchfoot, who i love as much as i love relient k! with him! switchfoot! with him!
wow. that was an exceptionally long rant about virtually nothing. i hope you didnt actually read it. but if you made it this far.... thank you for caring, now go and get a life.
homework bites. erm, not literally, although that would be an excellent excuse for not doing it: "i couldnt do my research paper because it was vicious and kept biting my face!!!"
i definitely just almost washed my face with toothpaste..... nice.
i thought the holiday season was supposed to be cheerful but instead it just makes me want to curl up in a ball until its all over.
why am i so emo?
i called my neighbors to see if they had a witches hat i could wear for my macbeth presentation tomorrow, and my sister was over there when i called since she and the girl who live there are friends. well, i guess her mom told them all why i called, and the other little girl who lives there who's in like 1st or 2nd grade asked "why does she want that? is she going around kissing boys?"
i'm going to come down with a fever and have to miss school altogether, and then i will miraculously recover at 2:36 and start running around because i'll be on vacation.
well, i'm an oxymoron.
later that day i scored a point and so they finally decided to find out what my name was. which they found out by saying "hey, Girl, do you have a name?"
this way when i meet thiessen i can be like "sooo... i'm making a documentary of the night.... and now youre in it. any words of wisdom?" as opposed to, you know, just.......... drooling.
i hope i dont combust before the show. although it would be pretty awesome if i ran across the stage while on fire. well.... no, burning in a good way.
guess who was sitting in my creative writing class when i showed up.... pretty much the entire senior male population of my gym class. this one kid was like "hey!! it's girl! hi girl!" and i was like "hi, boy."
hahahahaha oh boy stalkers are great.
at least we have myspace to hold the world together when everything else falls apart, right?
Id almost been martyred in a relient k mosh pit.
Then me and Wanda had the bright idea of borrowing a swivel chair from one of the computer stations in the library, and we rolled each other down the hall in it at full speed. Wanda said she feels like a real rock band.
for the first time in my life, I HAVE a life
I pretended I couldnt hear until pat was like you should bring Girl to the prom, and john was like yeaaaah! and turned around and looked at me, and I was like nnnoooooo
I get to go places with COOL PEOPLE tomorrow. mostly one cool person actually. we wont elaborate further than that but if you know me well enough you probably guessed there was somehow a guy involved. pink monkeys.
the family isnt supposed to know I let Wanda drive me around to the music store and the mall and all that jazz. And Im not supposed to associate with ppl who have unnaturally colored hair.
whatever guys me and Ravin wind up with are going to have to live in our orb with us.
erny stopped swearing so much around me because i used to punch her every time she did.
purple. you know what i mean.
OOH I MADE AN UNDERWEAR REFERENCE!!!
i reproduce by budding, like cells.
---------------------
Peace, love and boobs,
Miss Rex
But to continue with my perusal of my past, we are on to junior year of high school, at which point some kind soul taught me to use the Enter key or MySpace improved their formatting to encompass spaces between paragraphs.
Things of note in junior year:
1. Obsession with bands, especially Relient K, continued.
2. While maintaining a facade of hyperactivity, I managed to get pretty down on myself, which isn't reflected in the quotes I'm posting here, or even really in the old blog. But I caught whiffs of it: brief references to being down or depressed or emo or wondering what's wrong with myself. I only ever quoted really depressing lyrics. And those whiffs reminded me of some of the circumstances and emotions that brought them about, and suffice to say that I just wasn't a very happy person as a junior. I remember Erny later telling me that she was worried about me that year. But I was happy when I was playing guitar.
3. I craved attention. A bunch of my posts mentioned some guys in my gym class/creative writing class who called me "Girl" because they couldn't be bothered to find out my real name, and even that was something I thrived on. I started to feel inadequate over the fact that no guys ever seemed to be romantically interested in me, either at school or at church.
4. I thought EVERYTHING was SCANDALOUS. Oh how things have changed. Penis.
----------------------
so this really cool guy at my youth group, yeah he's really rad and stuff and stuff and yeah, and i might be going to see switchfoot with him! switchfoot, who i love as much as i love relient k! with him! switchfoot! with him!
wow. that was an exceptionally long rant about virtually nothing. i hope you didnt actually read it. but if you made it this far.... thank you for caring, now go and get a life.
homework bites. erm, not literally, although that would be an excellent excuse for not doing it: "i couldnt do my research paper because it was vicious and kept biting my face!!!"
i definitely just almost washed my face with toothpaste..... nice.
i thought the holiday season was supposed to be cheerful but instead it just makes me want to curl up in a ball until its all over.
why am i so emo?
i called my neighbors to see if they had a witches hat i could wear for my macbeth presentation tomorrow, and my sister was over there when i called since she and the girl who live there are friends. well, i guess her mom told them all why i called, and the other little girl who lives there who's in like 1st or 2nd grade asked "why does she want that? is she going around kissing boys?"
i'm going to come down with a fever and have to miss school altogether, and then i will miraculously recover at 2:36 and start running around because i'll be on vacation.
well, i'm an oxymoron.
later that day i scored a point and so they finally decided to find out what my name was. which they found out by saying "hey, Girl, do you have a name?"
this way when i meet thiessen i can be like "sooo... i'm making a documentary of the night.... and now youre in it. any words of wisdom?" as opposed to, you know, just.......... drooling.
i hope i dont combust before the show. although it would be pretty awesome if i ran across the stage while on fire. well.... no, burning in a good way.
guess who was sitting in my creative writing class when i showed up.... pretty much the entire senior male population of my gym class. this one kid was like "hey!! it's girl! hi girl!" and i was like "hi, boy."
hahahahaha oh boy stalkers are great.
at least we have myspace to hold the world together when everything else falls apart, right?
Id almost been martyred in a relient k mosh pit.
Then me and Wanda had the bright idea of borrowing a swivel chair from one of the computer stations in the library, and we rolled each other down the hall in it at full speed. Wanda said she feels like a real rock band.
for the first time in my life, I HAVE a life
I pretended I couldnt hear until pat was like you should bring Girl to the prom, and john was like yeaaaah! and turned around and looked at me, and I was like nnnoooooo
I get to go places with COOL PEOPLE tomorrow. mostly one cool person actually. we wont elaborate further than that but if you know me well enough you probably guessed there was somehow a guy involved. pink monkeys.
the family isnt supposed to know I let Wanda drive me around to the music store and the mall and all that jazz. And Im not supposed to associate with ppl who have unnaturally colored hair.
whatever guys me and Ravin wind up with are going to have to live in our orb with us.
erny stopped swearing so much around me because i used to punch her every time she did.
purple. you know what i mean.
OOH I MADE AN UNDERWEAR REFERENCE!!!
i reproduce by budding, like cells.
---------------------
Peace, love and boobs,
Miss Rex
Sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G
Wow. It really is true: Boys are the same across the board, regardless of age or religion or nationality.
Today my littlest, cutest camper was wearing a big, red ring on one of his fingers. One of my other kids told him that meant he had to kiss a girl, and the littler one accepted this without question. The bigger one then went on to coach him, helping him decide which girl to kiss and how to go about it.
Seeing as they're three, I saw no reason to put a stop to their scheming. Little did I know I was the selected target.
For the next hour I kept hearing, "Now, Shane!" This was invariably followed by a little kid barreling into my leg, wrapping his arms around it, and kissing my thigh (the highest he could reach) with a very loud and enthusiastic *smack.*
Now rewind about a month. It was my last night in Italy, and one of my companions had been pulling the 21-year-old equivalent of "Now, Shane!" for at least three days, trying to get one of the Italians we'd befriended to kiss me on the cheek.
Let it be known that I was more than okay with this plan. And he did finally go through with it. I guess the make-out sesh that happened afterward was where the situations varied...
But I'd say the evidence more than supports my hypothesis.
Peace, love and portobello mushrooms,
Miss Rex
Today my littlest, cutest camper was wearing a big, red ring on one of his fingers. One of my other kids told him that meant he had to kiss a girl, and the littler one accepted this without question. The bigger one then went on to coach him, helping him decide which girl to kiss and how to go about it.
Seeing as they're three, I saw no reason to put a stop to their scheming. Little did I know I was the selected target.
For the next hour I kept hearing, "Now, Shane!" This was invariably followed by a little kid barreling into my leg, wrapping his arms around it, and kissing my thigh (the highest he could reach) with a very loud and enthusiastic *smack.*
Now rewind about a month. It was my last night in Italy, and one of my companions had been pulling the 21-year-old equivalent of "Now, Shane!" for at least three days, trying to get one of the Italians we'd befriended to kiss me on the cheek.
Let it be known that I was more than okay with this plan. And he did finally go through with it. I guess the make-out sesh that happened afterward was where the situations varied...
But I'd say the evidence more than supports my hypothesis.
Peace, love and portobello mushrooms,
Miss Rex
All you need is love
All you need is love, and my weekend was full of it.
Thursday I had dinner with my friend Shmoe and his parents. We've been friends since Shmoe moved here our sophomore year of high school and I've always been close with his family too. Now that he's in the Coast Guard, we don't get to hang out much, so it was really excellent to catch up. After dinner we went for a night walk to see the fireflies in the fields behind his house. I've never seen so many! It was most magical. Shmoe caught me one, but it liked him better and flew away when he passed it to me.
Friday I took Derry on a little road trip to see my buddy Extra Large in a Medium World (remember my Awkward Game adversary?). I didn't think the little guy (the car, I mean) had it in him, but he made it without a problem. If one considers me driving most of the way without stepping on the brake to be "without a problem."
XL's mom made us delicious French toast with homemade caramel syrup for brunch. Let's just say I can understand why XL doesn't like school food. After, he took me to this park with a pond and a waterfall where he used to go fishing. We found a tetherball pole and I challenged him to a game.
If anyone is wondering, taking on a 6'7" guy at tetherball is not a recipe for win, and I have a bruise on my shin to prove it (turns out climbing the tetherball pole is also not a recipe for win).
We had to stop for crumbly crack (to all you normal people, butternut) donuts from this place in his town because even crazies need a little extra crazy sometimes. Then we crashed XL's dad's college reunion. They gave us good food and we cloud-watched for a solid hour and a half while the alumni caught up. I spotted an elephant and Hokusai, the great wave. XL found a bunch of dinosaurs and a camel. Overall a pretty successful round of cloud-gazing. We'll call it a tie.
Saturday I got to play princesses with Princess Sharon. She used to be my teacher but now she throws magical birthday parties for little girls, and I help sometimes. I befriended this in the mansion we partied at that day:
"Ford." "Yes." "I think I'm a sofa." "I know how you feel..." - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
The party was in the town next to the town where my first boyfriend (a.k.a. He Who Must Not Be Named) lived. His house wasn't exactly on the way, but I was early and remembered how to get there even after six years (and in spite of the fact I hadn't driven myself there back in the day; it was before I had a license). So I thought I'd drive by and see how the place was doing. HWMNBN moved out west ages ago but the house is still crunchasaurus ice cream blue, so I assume his grandparents still live there. It was weird seeing that it hadn't changed at all. It was like, instead of going to the town six years later, I just drove back in time and saw it the way it used to be. Hm, surreal. But off topic.
After the party I drove into Boston (miraculously Derry STILL hadn't broken down) to see another school friend, who we're gonna call Rad because he showed me this amazing song by the band Radical Face:
You don't have to watch. Just listen and be amazed.
Rad and I grabbed dinner at Chipotle and walked around the Prudential Center playing Never Have I Ever. We realized we'd mostly done and not done the same things, except I'd never kissed a girl.
The mall was mostly closed since it was after 9, but Barnes and Noble was still open (cue heavenly light beams and angel choir). We bonded over creepy posters of Robert Pattinson and that werewolf guy, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, and (naturally) poetry.
We were going to crash a bar after that, just to see if we could get in, but everyone was carding at the door so we just went back to his apartment. Rad played Train and Somewhere Over the Rainbow on his electric ukelele and showed me his balcony. Then I realized it was late-ish and my mother would worry if I didn't come home soon, so I left, and Derry still didn't die.
Today I had lunch with an atheist I met at my former youth group. It had been more than a year since we'd hung out, but thankfully he's one of those crazy people who never change. At least the parts you love never change. I'm sure he's smarter and more mature than back in the day. We got sammiches and ice cream and disturbed the other patrons with our enthusiastic discussion of mosh pits and hymns.
The reason I had to go back and write this very long post (thank you, anyone who's still with me) is because someone I consider a decent friend made me feel really stupid and worthless tonight, and I needed to remind myself how many amazing, positive, loving people I have in my life. The Beatles got a lot of things right, and this was one of them: all you need is love.
Peace, love and Paul McCartney,
Miss Rex
Thursday I had dinner with my friend Shmoe and his parents. We've been friends since Shmoe moved here our sophomore year of high school and I've always been close with his family too. Now that he's in the Coast Guard, we don't get to hang out much, so it was really excellent to catch up. After dinner we went for a night walk to see the fireflies in the fields behind his house. I've never seen so many! It was most magical. Shmoe caught me one, but it liked him better and flew away when he passed it to me.
Friday I took Derry on a little road trip to see my buddy Extra Large in a Medium World (remember my Awkward Game adversary?). I didn't think the little guy (the car, I mean) had it in him, but he made it without a problem. If one considers me driving most of the way without stepping on the brake to be "without a problem."
XL's mom made us delicious French toast with homemade caramel syrup for brunch. Let's just say I can understand why XL doesn't like school food. After, he took me to this park with a pond and a waterfall where he used to go fishing. We found a tetherball pole and I challenged him to a game.
If anyone is wondering, taking on a 6'7" guy at tetherball is not a recipe for win, and I have a bruise on my shin to prove it (turns out climbing the tetherball pole is also not a recipe for win).
We had to stop for crumbly crack (to all you normal people, butternut) donuts from this place in his town because even crazies need a little extra crazy sometimes. Then we crashed XL's dad's college reunion. They gave us good food and we cloud-watched for a solid hour and a half while the alumni caught up. I spotted an elephant and Hokusai, the great wave. XL found a bunch of dinosaurs and a camel. Overall a pretty successful round of cloud-gazing. We'll call it a tie.
Saturday I got to play princesses with Princess Sharon. She used to be my teacher but now she throws magical birthday parties for little girls, and I help sometimes. I befriended this in the mansion we partied at that day:
"Ford." "Yes." "I think I'm a sofa." "I know how you feel..." - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the GalaxyThe party was in the town next to the town where my first boyfriend (a.k.a. He Who Must Not Be Named) lived. His house wasn't exactly on the way, but I was early and remembered how to get there even after six years (and in spite of the fact I hadn't driven myself there back in the day; it was before I had a license). So I thought I'd drive by and see how the place was doing. HWMNBN moved out west ages ago but the house is still crunchasaurus ice cream blue, so I assume his grandparents still live there. It was weird seeing that it hadn't changed at all. It was like, instead of going to the town six years later, I just drove back in time and saw it the way it used to be. Hm, surreal. But off topic.
After the party I drove into Boston (miraculously Derry STILL hadn't broken down) to see another school friend, who we're gonna call Rad because he showed me this amazing song by the band Radical Face:
You don't have to watch. Just listen and be amazed.
Rad and I grabbed dinner at Chipotle and walked around the Prudential Center playing Never Have I Ever. We realized we'd mostly done and not done the same things, except I'd never kissed a girl.
The mall was mostly closed since it was after 9, but Barnes and Noble was still open (cue heavenly light beams and angel choir). We bonded over creepy posters of Robert Pattinson and that werewolf guy, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, and (naturally) poetry.
We were going to crash a bar after that, just to see if we could get in, but everyone was carding at the door so we just went back to his apartment. Rad played Train and Somewhere Over the Rainbow on his electric ukelele and showed me his balcony. Then I realized it was late-ish and my mother would worry if I didn't come home soon, so I left, and Derry still didn't die.
Today I had lunch with an atheist I met at my former youth group. It had been more than a year since we'd hung out, but thankfully he's one of those crazy people who never change. At least the parts you love never change. I'm sure he's smarter and more mature than back in the day. We got sammiches and ice cream and disturbed the other patrons with our enthusiastic discussion of mosh pits and hymns.
The reason I had to go back and write this very long post (thank you, anyone who's still with me) is because someone I consider a decent friend made me feel really stupid and worthless tonight, and I needed to remind myself how many amazing, positive, loving people I have in my life. The Beatles got a lot of things right, and this was one of them: all you need is love.
Peace, love and Paul McCartney,
Miss Rex
Defying woman's intuition
In my head, I have a pretty good sense of what's a good idea and what's not. You hear about a woman's intuition, and I definitely have it. Yet that doesn't stop me from doing a lot of things that I think are bad ideas. Why? I can't explain it. I guess it... generates writing material...?
Even as I'm goofing up, there's a little voice in my head by the name of Jiminy Cricket asking me what the hell I'm getting myself into this time. But what fun would life be if we didn't spend 90% of it defying our better judgment? Thankfully Jiminy is only a cricket, and easy enough to ignore; thus I continue to do the following.
1. Using Facebook. It's such a black hole. At any given moment that I am on Facebook I can usually think of at least fifteen better things I could be doing, yet how can I fight that kind of gravity...?
2. Procrastinating. If it's not due tomorrow, I'm not worried about it (blame #1). Then when it's due tomorrow I don't have enough time to do it. Vicious cycle.
3. Drinking coffee at night. I can only do this if I intend to stay up for at least six more hours, and even after six hours, going to sleep can be problematic. This means I am tired the next day and need more coffee. Another vicious cycle.
4. Foregoing sleep. I can almost get away with alternating nights of no sleep and 12 hours of sleep. Almost. But I'm not saying it's healthy.
5. Agreeing to nap with a certain friend of mine. You'd think by now one of us would have realized we have totally different definitions of napping. If I say I want to nap, it means "I didn't sleep last night. Unconsciousness is necessary RIGHT NOW. I am saying it's cool if you join me a) because you are comfy, b) because I am too tired to argue with you, and/or c) because I want to retain some hope in your half of the species." Somehow my intentions always get lost in translation...
6. Being the sober one. You'd think I'd regret being drunk more than staying sober, but the fact is I hate playing babysitter and I can't handle it when people barf. And I get tired and cold and hungry, which I don't think I would notice if I was drunk.
7. Breaking visitation. I'm not even sure what the consequences are for spending the night in a dude's room but I'm sure they are not pretty, regardless of what actually goes down in said dude's room (the handbook does not differentiate between hawt sex and watching movies about journalism).
8. Climbing buildings. It's a $400 fine if you get caught... but everything is more exciting at higher altitudes, and visitation hours don't apply to rooftops.
9. Playing the awkward game. Letting people know you have no shame is pretty much an invitation for them to try and make you feel uncomfortable. Case in point? I have this one friend who's been trying to wig me out by putting his face really close to mine, so last night I kissed his cheek, which freaked him the heck out. He jumped across the lobby and turned bright red. Funniest thing I've ever seen. So today he happens to walk by while I'm taking down the whiteboard outside my room, runs over, and kisses me on the mouth. And runs away.
Peace, love and true confessions,
Miss Rex
Even as I'm goofing up, there's a little voice in my head by the name of Jiminy Cricket asking me what the hell I'm getting myself into this time. But what fun would life be if we didn't spend 90% of it defying our better judgment? Thankfully Jiminy is only a cricket, and easy enough to ignore; thus I continue to do the following.
1. Using Facebook. It's such a black hole. At any given moment that I am on Facebook I can usually think of at least fifteen better things I could be doing, yet how can I fight that kind of gravity...?
2. Procrastinating. If it's not due tomorrow, I'm not worried about it (blame #1). Then when it's due tomorrow I don't have enough time to do it. Vicious cycle.
3. Drinking coffee at night. I can only do this if I intend to stay up for at least six more hours, and even after six hours, going to sleep can be problematic. This means I am tired the next day and need more coffee. Another vicious cycle.
4. Foregoing sleep. I can almost get away with alternating nights of no sleep and 12 hours of sleep. Almost. But I'm not saying it's healthy.
5. Agreeing to nap with a certain friend of mine. You'd think by now one of us would have realized we have totally different definitions of napping. If I say I want to nap, it means "I didn't sleep last night. Unconsciousness is necessary RIGHT NOW. I am saying it's cool if you join me a) because you are comfy, b) because I am too tired to argue with you, and/or c) because I want to retain some hope in your half of the species." Somehow my intentions always get lost in translation...
6. Being the sober one. You'd think I'd regret being drunk more than staying sober, but the fact is I hate playing babysitter and I can't handle it when people barf. And I get tired and cold and hungry, which I don't think I would notice if I was drunk.
7. Breaking visitation. I'm not even sure what the consequences are for spending the night in a dude's room but I'm sure they are not pretty, regardless of what actually goes down in said dude's room (the handbook does not differentiate between hawt sex and watching movies about journalism).
8. Climbing buildings. It's a $400 fine if you get caught... but everything is more exciting at higher altitudes, and visitation hours don't apply to rooftops.
9. Playing the awkward game. Letting people know you have no shame is pretty much an invitation for them to try and make you feel uncomfortable. Case in point? I have this one friend who's been trying to wig me out by putting his face really close to mine, so last night I kissed his cheek, which freaked him the heck out. He jumped across the lobby and turned bright red. Funniest thing I've ever seen. So today he happens to walk by while I'm taking down the whiteboard outside my room, runs over, and kisses me on the mouth. And runs away.
Peace, love and true confessions,
Miss Rex
Hello, my name is: Energizer Bunny
So today. Was a very, very good day. Very little was accomplished school-wise or internship-wise or anything-really-wise, although I did finally bully myself into writing some new material for the novel. It's been slow going. Even though writing and creating are what I love to do, once I'm out of practice getting back to it is excruciating. But write I did, and I also finished a series of maps last night showing the expansion of my imaginary world from creation to the present. In all that's about 6-8 maps of varying sizes and complexity. I'm somewhat elated from all that, but depressed thinking about the other things I'm neglecting in order to make progress with the thing I love.
But that wasn't the reason today was so good, or at least, not the only reason. I ate lunch outside with Taz (my roomie), Misty (a girl who lives on my floor and shares my unabashed love for Pokémon), and the guy I played private eye with the night the power went out, who shall henceforth be known as Cripple, even when his foot gets better and he ditches the crutches he has acquired since our first meeting. Cripple squished a spider that was crawling on me and I squealed like a little girl because he got icky spider guts all over my foot. He thought it was the funniest thing ever. I didn't. Then Cripple and I went to the beach for like 20 minutes and talked randomly about relationships (more specifically, his success at having one and my failure to do so), but we had to rush back because I had class.
After class I sat under a cherry tree and wrote some more until it was time to go to Zumba, which, coupled with the 82º weather and humidity, inspired me to try my first iced coffee (it was goooooood) and I have been totally out there ever since. Taz and I went for a walk around the quad and I frolicked and sang and laughed at things that weren't funny and threw my shoes in the air. I also pointed out that the side of one of the buildings we passed had a sort of cross on it and marveled that I had never noticed it before.
"It's more of a double cross, really," said Taz.
To which I ever-so-logically replied, "It's for a double Jesus!"
Coming back into Ferrin, I ran into another friend of mine and convinced him to come with me on another walk. I was still doing the Energizer Bunny thing (that is, going and going and going). I felt bad because I couldn't stop babbling about random stuff that only crazies like me would find interesting.
I decided I felt like going out to Gull Pond even though we didn't have a flashlight (you have to go through the woods to get there, which is kinda spooky at night on account of its being pitch black). Well, okay, I'll admit I'd been wanting to go out to the pond since Zumba ended because swimming would have felt really nice after that, but I think I freaked out Taz by announcing that I wanted to go skinny dipping so there went that plan. (For the record, skinny dipping was no longer "the plan;" I just wanted to go wading and have a random adventure walking in the woods at night, for it had been far too long since my last flight from the mysterious monsters of the woods. But the monsters didn't show up. They must not have been hungry for kids tonight. Or they only swim in AIDS-infested Coy Pond, which seems likely since Taz and I got chased by one near there once.)
So instead we just went swimming. The water was really nice from sitting in the sun all day, but I still got cold really fast so we headed back through the woods, at which point I remembered why people don't usually swim with pants on: It's squelchy.
Peace, love and skinny dipping,
Miss Rex
But that wasn't the reason today was so good, or at least, not the only reason. I ate lunch outside with Taz (my roomie), Misty (a girl who lives on my floor and shares my unabashed love for Pokémon), and the guy I played private eye with the night the power went out, who shall henceforth be known as Cripple, even when his foot gets better and he ditches the crutches he has acquired since our first meeting. Cripple squished a spider that was crawling on me and I squealed like a little girl because he got icky spider guts all over my foot. He thought it was the funniest thing ever. I didn't. Then Cripple and I went to the beach for like 20 minutes and talked randomly about relationships (more specifically, his success at having one and my failure to do so), but we had to rush back because I had class.
After class I sat under a cherry tree and wrote some more until it was time to go to Zumba, which, coupled with the 82º weather and humidity, inspired me to try my first iced coffee (it was goooooood) and I have been totally out there ever since. Taz and I went for a walk around the quad and I frolicked and sang and laughed at things that weren't funny and threw my shoes in the air. I also pointed out that the side of one of the buildings we passed had a sort of cross on it and marveled that I had never noticed it before.
"It's more of a double cross, really," said Taz.
To which I ever-so-logically replied, "It's for a double Jesus!"
Coming back into Ferrin, I ran into another friend of mine and convinced him to come with me on another walk. I was still doing the Energizer Bunny thing (that is, going and going and going). I felt bad because I couldn't stop babbling about random stuff that only crazies like me would find interesting.
I decided I felt like going out to Gull Pond even though we didn't have a flashlight (you have to go through the woods to get there, which is kinda spooky at night on account of its being pitch black). Well, okay, I'll admit I'd been wanting to go out to the pond since Zumba ended because swimming would have felt really nice after that, but I think I freaked out Taz by announcing that I wanted to go skinny dipping so there went that plan. (For the record, skinny dipping was no longer "the plan;" I just wanted to go wading and have a random adventure walking in the woods at night, for it had been far too long since my last flight from the mysterious monsters of the woods. But the monsters didn't show up. They must not have been hungry for kids tonight. Or they only swim in AIDS-infested Coy Pond, which seems likely since Taz and I got chased by one near there once.)
So instead we just went swimming. The water was really nice from sitting in the sun all day, but I still got cold really fast so we headed back through the woods, at which point I remembered why people don't usually swim with pants on: It's squelchy.
Peace, love and skinny dipping,
Miss Rex
In which the lamb overtakes the lion (at least for now)
What a fabulous week it's been! Sunny and 60º+ since Wednesday! Let's take a look at the highlights, shall we?
10. Eating ice cream makes sense again!
9. The grass is not white. The sky is not white. Everything feels less dead.
8. I can walk outside in just a sweatshirt without feeling compelled to curl up in fetal position.
7. Birds! Birds singing, birds flying around, yes, even birds pooping on the quad!
6. Grass. Smells. Amazing.
5. Peepers!! I can't even tell you how many winter nights I lulled myself to sleep just imagining their incessant cheep-cheeping, and now they're here!
4. BEAAAACHHH! Salty air, warm dunes, and best of all, SANDY FEET!
3. Ultimate Frisbee. If you don't know what it is, watch this.
2. Going barefoot everywhere!
1. People! Everyone's outside and sun-drunk, which makes finding things to do a no-brainer. Nobody wants to do work when it's like this. People simply don't go to classes. I was lucky to have my only class canceled today... and nothing can top the moment of epiphany when I realized it was canceled.
I must say my hopes were not high on Monday when my GPS took me on a wild goose chase through Medford in the pouring rain. After telling me to turn left at a No Left Turn sign, which it does at least once a trip (that or directing me down one way streets... the wrong way), it decided that the best route to the building I needed to get to was to go around 3.5 sides of a block, amounting to over a mile of walking in the wind and rain with an already-mangled umbrella. I was late for the interview I was conducting, looked like crap when I got there, and was so cold that once I got inside my nose started leaking, just to add to the embarrassment. BUT, the interview was way fun, and the article got picked up by TWO sections of the Boston Globe regionals.
And then the sun came out (hence my sudden Disapparation after I promised to post this week)! I spent a lot of time at the beach IN SPITE OF THE GODDAMN WIND and played my first game of ultimate frisbee in way-too-many-months. Can you say glorious?
But today was the best yet. I ran into a friend I hadn't hung out with since he helped me make a 30-second PSA for fair trade coffee last spring. I joined him and his friends for lunch on the grassy space outside of Lane, and then a few of us went out into the woods to take pictures. For a change, I was not the one wielding the camera (mine happens to be broken).
The trails were still quite messy from the rain on Monday (and the entire month preceding Monday). The two guys who were there went barefoot, and since I hadn't felt like going back to Ferrin for my galoshes, I did the same. It was delightfully icky! Playing in the mud was never something I did as a child. I was very clean. We do have a rainy season swamp behind our house where my friends and I used to play, but the point of the game was always to build bridges over the muck or find ways around it. Falling in always sucked. So at first I was quite displeased with my choice of footwear, but I quickly learned that mud is incredible. End of story.
On the way back, one of the boys caught a garter snake (note, I have no qualms about using the word "boys" for these twenty-year-old men; they were certainly acting as such, and that is not a negative statement). It was adorable! (The snake, that is. Not the boys.) I was so excited to pet it because earlier this semester I was going to get a pet snake before I found out you have to keep them in freaking climate-controlled terrariums. But the poor little guy was scared and did that smelly musk thing, and it made him feel all slimy. Ick.
All of the above have conspired to make me an incredibly happy person this week. And also a rather sunburnt and very tired one. But we have one sunny day left before the lion cows the lamb back into submission, and I shall not let a moment go to waste!
Peace, love and step-rock-step,
Miss Rex
10. Eating ice cream makes sense again!
9. The grass is not white. The sky is not white. Everything feels less dead.
8. I can walk outside in just a sweatshirt without feeling compelled to curl up in fetal position.
7. Birds! Birds singing, birds flying around, yes, even birds pooping on the quad!
6. Grass. Smells. Amazing.
5. Peepers!! I can't even tell you how many winter nights I lulled myself to sleep just imagining their incessant cheep-cheeping, and now they're here!
4. BEAAAACHHH! Salty air, warm dunes, and best of all, SANDY FEET!
3. Ultimate Frisbee. If you don't know what it is, watch this.
2. Going barefoot everywhere!
1. People! Everyone's outside and sun-drunk, which makes finding things to do a no-brainer. Nobody wants to do work when it's like this. People simply don't go to classes. I was lucky to have my only class canceled today... and nothing can top the moment of epiphany when I realized it was canceled.
I must say my hopes were not high on Monday when my GPS took me on a wild goose chase through Medford in the pouring rain. After telling me to turn left at a No Left Turn sign, which it does at least once a trip (that or directing me down one way streets... the wrong way), it decided that the best route to the building I needed to get to was to go around 3.5 sides of a block, amounting to over a mile of walking in the wind and rain with an already-mangled umbrella. I was late for the interview I was conducting, looked like crap when I got there, and was so cold that once I got inside my nose started leaking, just to add to the embarrassment. BUT, the interview was way fun, and the article got picked up by TWO sections of the Boston Globe regionals.
And then the sun came out (hence my sudden Disapparation after I promised to post this week)! I spent a lot of time at the beach IN SPITE OF THE GODDAMN WIND and played my first game of ultimate frisbee in way-too-many-months. Can you say glorious?
But today was the best yet. I ran into a friend I hadn't hung out with since he helped me make a 30-second PSA for fair trade coffee last spring. I joined him and his friends for lunch on the grassy space outside of Lane, and then a few of us went out into the woods to take pictures. For a change, I was not the one wielding the camera (mine happens to be broken).
The trails were still quite messy from the rain on Monday (and the entire month preceding Monday). The two guys who were there went barefoot, and since I hadn't felt like going back to Ferrin for my galoshes, I did the same. It was delightfully icky! Playing in the mud was never something I did as a child. I was very clean. We do have a rainy season swamp behind our house where my friends and I used to play, but the point of the game was always to build bridges over the muck or find ways around it. Falling in always sucked. So at first I was quite displeased with my choice of footwear, but I quickly learned that mud is incredible. End of story.
On the way back, one of the boys caught a garter snake (note, I have no qualms about using the word "boys" for these twenty-year-old men; they were certainly acting as such, and that is not a negative statement). It was adorable! (The snake, that is. Not the boys.) I was so excited to pet it because earlier this semester I was going to get a pet snake before I found out you have to keep them in freaking climate-controlled terrariums. But the poor little guy was scared and did that smelly musk thing, and it made him feel all slimy. Ick.
All of the above have conspired to make me an incredibly happy person this week. And also a rather sunburnt and very tired one. But we have one sunny day left before the lion cows the lamb back into submission, and I shall not let a moment go to waste!
Peace, love and step-rock-step,
Miss Rex
525,600 minutes
Resolutions:
From 2009:
1. "Sleep when you’re dead." And save Facebook for later, too.
2. Suffer for my art… and finish the first draft of “Before the Empty Moon.”
3. Get the female equivalent of balls to tell people what I’m really thinking.
4. Be able to support my sponsored child AND my concert addiction.
5. Take a road trip.
6. Play a show.
7. Meet William Beckett.
Well, two out of seven ain't bad....
Oh, who am I kidding? That's utterly shameful. I must make a greater effort this year/set more attainable goals. Ones that I can control a little more than meeting Mr. Tall-and-sexy Beckett. But then what does one resolve? Most people resolve to stop being lazy and go to the gym, but I already do that. Or they resolve to stop eating so much crap and lose weight. I guess I could use a little work on the not eating crap bit; maybe actually being a vegetarian would be a good resolution.
But those things are all restrictions. Wouldn't resolving to accomplish something be a more positive use of my efforts?
Yes. Yes it would. But I can't resolve to finish my book; with school in the way, that will never happen. So I've gone back to my Bucket List for inspiration and chosen a few items that would be manageable this year even with school throwing a wrench in everything.
1. Read. For my own enjoyment.
2. Learn the constellations.
3. Write at least once a week! And it must be something substantial; Claymore reviews and Scatterday posts don't count anymore! They're just a lazy way of saying I've produced something, but it's not exactly productive if it's not something you'll show off to publishers or employers. I love this blog, and I love you all, but I must confess that it has not been the writing "workout" I intended it to be. I'm getting writer's flab.
4. Do something that scares me.
5. Pray.
And now, a few life lessons from the past 525,600 minutes! I've changed a ton this year, and a lot of it isn't stuff I can articulate or it's too specific to be universalized as "life lessons." I've learned about relationships, religion, and just... life in general. But anyway, here is my attempt.
On relationships:
1. Long distance relationships suck. For EVERYONE, including people who aren't actually part of the relationship. Even close-by-long-distance relationships are tough.
2. Boys (and jobs) are better when you can enjoy the benefits of more than one at a time, or at least it seems that way when finally set free from a long relationship you sort of grew to hate in its dying months. (Oh, and having multiple jobs is always a good idea if you're addicted to concerts ^_^)
3.
I have a magnet on my fridge that says this, and for two years I have blatantly laughed at it. Clearly, I said, this statement was engineered by some horny teenager looking for excuses to get some. "Lies from the pit of hell," I said (or something to that effect).
I'm not saying spooning necessarily leads to forking. It does not, and (in my experience) has not. But it absolutely can. Easily.
All I'm saying is, if you don't want to use your cutlery, keep it separate.
4. It’s something special to feel like you’re a better human being when you’re around a certain person, but it’s really exceptional to act like one for that person in his or her absence.
On life in general:
1. "People sometimes say that the way things happen in the movies is unreal, but actually it’s the way things happen to you in life that’s unreal. The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it’s like watching television — you don’t feel anything." — Andy Warhol
2. I CAN dance without arrows! The key, if you are as challenged as I thought I was, is confidence. If you look comfortable, like you know what you're doing, people will just assume you DO know what you're doing. Don't try too hard. Dancing is a natural movement of the body.
If you're worried, bring glow sticks.
3. You can drink irresponsibly responsibly (at least this is what Auntie Debbie and I agreed upon). If you PLAN on getting trashed, fine, whatever; you should also PLAN to give someone who won't be drinking your keys and PLAN to stay put until you're not trashed. I don't understand why this is hard to understand for some people.
4. A home is a gift from God, and like any gift it is meant to be shared.
5. Stop making promises! It's way too hard to keep them unless you really mean them, and when you break your word, you cheapen it. Have your word be the highest insurance of your intentions.
On religion:
Religion sucks. I've always had a problem being associated with a denomination, but I think that was mostly my hatred of labels. It's a bit more personal now.
People say the word "Christian" with such disdain, and you just know: they think you're delusional, stupid, simple or misguided, they think you're judgmental, they don't want to trust you and they expect to be rejected by you. That is the opposite of what a Christian is supposed to be, according to the Bible. If this is what people are going to think about me when they hear I'm a Christian then count me out.
God isn't about rules and rituals. He doesn't live inside of a church or chapel. He doesn't want a bunch of lemmings trailing after him unthinkingly or he wouldn't have given us brains. I think it necessarily comes down to who God is to you, because who can be right? Who has the right to say they know what's going on and everybody else in the world is wrong? It's sheer arrogance and creates conflict. I'm not saying everybody's right and anything goes, but I sure as hell can't tell you which ones are wrong.
Maybe everyone is a little bit right. Maybe we're all dead wrong. I for one cannot look at the world and think it all just fell into place. For me there had to be someone there first, and the fact that he's here and I'm here means I owe him some allegiance. What kind and to what extent I'm still figuring out. I don't know how, or if, I should talk to him. I don't know if I should trust the Bible (or any other text for that matter). I don't know if it's fair for me to ask things of him since I'm not doing much for him on my end.
All I know is this: Love. Drawing lines between people, when we all comprise the same essence, is destructive. It's not love. Killing someone in the name of Jesus Christ or Allah or anybody else disregards the sanctity of life. It's a failure to love. Turning away gay people or looking down on different races or saying that someone raised in a culture that practices, say, Buddhism or animism is unwelcome at your church - those are failures to love. We have failed. And we fail and fail again. We have got to love each other or we'll never make it. What else is there to live for but love?
This is beginning to sound like godly anarchy, which I'm not even sure is possible... but it sounds nice.
At first I was disoriented, scared and upset that my adolescent faith was disappearing, but I've come to see that faith must be dynamic. It's too easy otherwise. Too formulaic. If it’s static, it’s stunted; it’s a small child that won’t grow up. It’s fearful. It’s a sapling with but one trunk, one branch, one direction. So much potential, so little purpose; it’s trimmed back time and again when what it needs is to grow, to change, to branch out into a million different places and hope that, maybe, one of those million places will touch the sky, and even if they don't....
They reached for it with every power in their grasp.
Happy New Year.
Miss Rex
From 2009:
1. "Sleep when you’re dead." And save Facebook for later, too.
2. Suffer for my art… and finish the first draft of “Before the Empty Moon.”
3. Get the female equivalent of balls to tell people what I’m really thinking.
4. Be able to support my sponsored child AND my concert addiction.
5. Take a road trip.
6. Play a show.
7. Meet William Beckett.
Well, two out of seven ain't bad....
Oh, who am I kidding? That's utterly shameful. I must make a greater effort this year/set more attainable goals. Ones that I can control a little more than meeting Mr. Tall-and-sexy Beckett. But then what does one resolve? Most people resolve to stop being lazy and go to the gym, but I already do that. Or they resolve to stop eating so much crap and lose weight. I guess I could use a little work on the not eating crap bit; maybe actually being a vegetarian would be a good resolution.
But those things are all restrictions. Wouldn't resolving to accomplish something be a more positive use of my efforts?
Yes. Yes it would. But I can't resolve to finish my book; with school in the way, that will never happen. So I've gone back to my Bucket List for inspiration and chosen a few items that would be manageable this year even with school throwing a wrench in everything.
1. Read. For my own enjoyment.
2. Learn the constellations.
3. Write at least once a week! And it must be something substantial; Claymore reviews and Scatterday posts don't count anymore! They're just a lazy way of saying I've produced something, but it's not exactly productive if it's not something you'll show off to publishers or employers. I love this blog, and I love you all, but I must confess that it has not been the writing "workout" I intended it to be. I'm getting writer's flab.
4. Do something that scares me.
5. Pray.
And now, a few life lessons from the past 525,600 minutes! I've changed a ton this year, and a lot of it isn't stuff I can articulate or it's too specific to be universalized as "life lessons." I've learned about relationships, religion, and just... life in general. But anyway, here is my attempt.
On relationships:
1. Long distance relationships suck. For EVERYONE, including people who aren't actually part of the relationship. Even close-by-long-distance relationships are tough.
2. Boys (and jobs) are better when you can enjoy the benefits of more than one at a time, or at least it seems that way when finally set free from a long relationship you sort of grew to hate in its dying months. (Oh, and having multiple jobs is always a good idea if you're addicted to concerts ^_^)
3.
I have a magnet on my fridge that says this, and for two years I have blatantly laughed at it. Clearly, I said, this statement was engineered by some horny teenager looking for excuses to get some. "Lies from the pit of hell," I said (or something to that effect).I'm not saying spooning necessarily leads to forking. It does not, and (in my experience) has not. But it absolutely can. Easily.
All I'm saying is, if you don't want to use your cutlery, keep it separate.
4. It’s something special to feel like you’re a better human being when you’re around a certain person, but it’s really exceptional to act like one for that person in his or her absence.
On life in general:
1. "People sometimes say that the way things happen in the movies is unreal, but actually it’s the way things happen to you in life that’s unreal. The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it’s like watching television — you don’t feel anything." — Andy Warhol
2. I CAN dance without arrows! The key, if you are as challenged as I thought I was, is confidence. If you look comfortable, like you know what you're doing, people will just assume you DO know what you're doing. Don't try too hard. Dancing is a natural movement of the body.
If you're worried, bring glow sticks.
3. You can drink irresponsibly responsibly (at least this is what Auntie Debbie and I agreed upon). If you PLAN on getting trashed, fine, whatever; you should also PLAN to give someone who won't be drinking your keys and PLAN to stay put until you're not trashed. I don't understand why this is hard to understand for some people.
4. A home is a gift from God, and like any gift it is meant to be shared.
5. Stop making promises! It's way too hard to keep them unless you really mean them, and when you break your word, you cheapen it. Have your word be the highest insurance of your intentions.
On religion:
Religion sucks. I've always had a problem being associated with a denomination, but I think that was mostly my hatred of labels. It's a bit more personal now.
People say the word "Christian" with such disdain, and you just know: they think you're delusional, stupid, simple or misguided, they think you're judgmental, they don't want to trust you and they expect to be rejected by you. That is the opposite of what a Christian is supposed to be, according to the Bible. If this is what people are going to think about me when they hear I'm a Christian then count me out.
God isn't about rules and rituals. He doesn't live inside of a church or chapel. He doesn't want a bunch of lemmings trailing after him unthinkingly or he wouldn't have given us brains. I think it necessarily comes down to who God is to you, because who can be right? Who has the right to say they know what's going on and everybody else in the world is wrong? It's sheer arrogance and creates conflict. I'm not saying everybody's right and anything goes, but I sure as hell can't tell you which ones are wrong.
Maybe everyone is a little bit right. Maybe we're all dead wrong. I for one cannot look at the world and think it all just fell into place. For me there had to be someone there first, and the fact that he's here and I'm here means I owe him some allegiance. What kind and to what extent I'm still figuring out. I don't know how, or if, I should talk to him. I don't know if I should trust the Bible (or any other text for that matter). I don't know if it's fair for me to ask things of him since I'm not doing much for him on my end.
All I know is this: Love. Drawing lines between people, when we all comprise the same essence, is destructive. It's not love. Killing someone in the name of Jesus Christ or Allah or anybody else disregards the sanctity of life. It's a failure to love. Turning away gay people or looking down on different races or saying that someone raised in a culture that practices, say, Buddhism or animism is unwelcome at your church - those are failures to love. We have failed. And we fail and fail again. We have got to love each other or we'll never make it. What else is there to live for but love?
This is beginning to sound like godly anarchy, which I'm not even sure is possible... but it sounds nice.
At first I was disoriented, scared and upset that my adolescent faith was disappearing, but I've come to see that faith must be dynamic. It's too easy otherwise. Too formulaic. If it’s static, it’s stunted; it’s a small child that won’t grow up. It’s fearful. It’s a sapling with but one trunk, one branch, one direction. So much potential, so little purpose; it’s trimmed back time and again when what it needs is to grow, to change, to branch out into a million different places and hope that, maybe, one of those million places will touch the sky, and even if they don't....
They reached for it with every power in their grasp.
Happy New Year.
Miss Rex
Short Story Long... pt. 1
I don't know about anyone else, but I am immensely relieved to bid the holidays adieu. This season usually holds a lot of magic for me, but for some reason it just didn't click this year. It was December 26th before I even realized that, in spite of partaking in all the usual traditions, I had completely missed Christmas. And I was okay with that.
In fact, I'm really glad it's over. Soon we'll be able to drive places without getting stuck in shopper traffic (which will be fab since my closest friends live half an hour away from me... in opposite directions). We'll be able to bum around at the mall without getting stampeded. Of course, all the gyms will be packed with New Years Resolutionists in a week's time and working out will suck for the next month, but at least things are starting to get back to normal.
I've slept a lot this break and have been complaining perpetually of my boredom, but it's actually been a pretty eventful vacation thus far. I shall attempt to summarize, but you know this is going to become an epic game of Short Story Long.
Episode One:
Last Saturday I was sick of my family and needed to get out of the house (I'd been home for a day and half so far) so I called Wanda, who was still at school in the city, and said to get ready for an adventure; Adam Ezra was playing a show all afternoon and we were going. I had just decided. Well, no, I decided in November that I wanted to go; I just failed at planning to do so until the thing had already started.
So we get to this thing. It's upstairs in a brewery I saw Adam at once before with my roomies and Jo-Yo. But that time it had been late at night and there had been lots of drunken grown-ups dancing like horny teenagers. One woman lassoing men with her scarf particularly stands out in my memory. We kept a tally of how many people she danced with, giving her extra points for dancing with multiple guys at the same time. We didn't know what else to do with her. Oh and a creepy old guy may or may not have hit on Mnomanoms.
That night, Adam played two of my requests, Another Sunshine and Desperate Plea from the Heart of a Shit-head. The second one is not really a noisy brewery kind of song and the rest of his band didn't know how to play it, so Adam played it solo acoustic. I felt so special. Then after the show I talked him into sending me an mp3 of it even though he's only got a rough copy so far. This has not happened yet, and I suspect it's because he's been drunk both times I've actually spoken to him about said mp3.
Which brings me back to the original story of last weekend with Wanda. Adam had already been playing for a while when we got there and took an intermission just a few songs later. When I went to say hello, he remembered me and that he owed me an mp3. I was impressed. We didn't talk for long, but after the second half of his set I went over to say goodbye and ended up writing a reminder on his hand in bright orange Sharpie. Wanda was disappointed later on when I told her I wasn't giving him my phone number. She thinks we should get together. Aaand I might have a little crush on him, as well... ^_^
But I didn't have much hope of seeing the mp3 because once again, Adam had had a bit to drink. I can tell because he does what I do when I've had a bit to drink - i.e., he gets rather cozy with everyone regardless of how well he actually knows them. I got about five hugs from him before leaving that day (and he told me the way I spell "Mandii" is cute ^_^).
Wanda and I both made it home before a foot and a half of snow swamped the entire state. And that concludes adventure number one. Lest this post become so long that no one wants to read it, I shall leave off there. Stay tuned for episode two, in which I and everyone I know had our minds blown by Avatar.
Peace, love and The Half-Blood Prince,
Miss Rex
In fact, I'm really glad it's over. Soon we'll be able to drive places without getting stuck in shopper traffic (which will be fab since my closest friends live half an hour away from me... in opposite directions). We'll be able to bum around at the mall without getting stampeded. Of course, all the gyms will be packed with New Years Resolutionists in a week's time and working out will suck for the next month, but at least things are starting to get back to normal.
I've slept a lot this break and have been complaining perpetually of my boredom, but it's actually been a pretty eventful vacation thus far. I shall attempt to summarize, but you know this is going to become an epic game of Short Story Long.
Episode One:
Last Saturday I was sick of my family and needed to get out of the house (I'd been home for a day and half so far) so I called Wanda, who was still at school in the city, and said to get ready for an adventure; Adam Ezra was playing a show all afternoon and we were going. I had just decided. Well, no, I decided in November that I wanted to go; I just failed at planning to do so until the thing had already started.
So we get to this thing. It's upstairs in a brewery I saw Adam at once before with my roomies and Jo-Yo. But that time it had been late at night and there had been lots of drunken grown-ups dancing like horny teenagers. One woman lassoing men with her scarf particularly stands out in my memory. We kept a tally of how many people she danced with, giving her extra points for dancing with multiple guys at the same time. We didn't know what else to do with her. Oh and a creepy old guy may or may not have hit on Mnomanoms.
That night, Adam played two of my requests, Another Sunshine and Desperate Plea from the Heart of a Shit-head. The second one is not really a noisy brewery kind of song and the rest of his band didn't know how to play it, so Adam played it solo acoustic. I felt so special. Then after the show I talked him into sending me an mp3 of it even though he's only got a rough copy so far. This has not happened yet, and I suspect it's because he's been drunk both times I've actually spoken to him about said mp3.
Which brings me back to the original story of last weekend with Wanda. Adam had already been playing for a while when we got there and took an intermission just a few songs later. When I went to say hello, he remembered me and that he owed me an mp3. I was impressed. We didn't talk for long, but after the second half of his set I went over to say goodbye and ended up writing a reminder on his hand in bright orange Sharpie. Wanda was disappointed later on when I told her I wasn't giving him my phone number. She thinks we should get together. Aaand I might have a little crush on him, as well... ^_^
But I didn't have much hope of seeing the mp3 because once again, Adam had had a bit to drink. I can tell because he does what I do when I've had a bit to drink - i.e., he gets rather cozy with everyone regardless of how well he actually knows them. I got about five hugs from him before leaving that day (and he told me the way I spell "Mandii" is cute ^_^).
Wanda and I both made it home before a foot and a half of snow swamped the entire state. And that concludes adventure number one. Lest this post become so long that no one wants to read it, I shall leave off there. Stay tuned for episode two, in which I and everyone I know had our minds blown by Avatar.
Peace, love and The Half-Blood Prince,
Miss Rex
Catharsis, or A Breakup Tale
I guess I'm obliged to try and get some of this out in writing, though I hardly know where to begin. If you're looking for something silly and whimsical, I suggest you wait for my Scatterday post tomorrow afternoon. This post is anything but. See title.
These past ten months with Boyfriend have been full of peaks and valleys. I remember going back to school after the first time we kissed, ecstatic to tell Schneckleface all about it and the *DATE* we were going on soon!
There were so many firsts for both of us, and for the most part they were exciting firsts that brought me great joy. First time I ever slept over a guy's house. First time I went behind my parents' backs (for the record, that one was more exciting than joyful). First time I'd ever thought I could stick with someone forever, and wanted to. First time I ever planned on it. Among other firsts that brought confusion and even guilt for this quasi-conservatively raised Christian young lady - but let's not think about that just yet. First, a tribute to the things that made me smile... that still make me smile, and will no matter what.
Our first month together disappeared in a flurry of snowflakes and Christmas lights, which somehow seemed brighter than they had in years past. He was so worried about my present, worried he'd offend me since I was "very religious" and he, well, wasn't. For all that, he did a fine job. He even made it to church a couple times. He was so worried I would cheat on him that first month, and I was so glad I wasn't that person, so glad I wasn't bringing more pain into his life when he'd been through so much already (but it's none of my business to go into detail here). He always made sure to tell me how beautiful I looked that day, and I melted every time.
January: I dragged him to a ska show. He teased me about it but didn't complain (even when I got a bloody nose before ever jumping into the action).
February: I got a little adventurous in the kitchen, trying to bake the perfect Valentine's day gift (which involved way more red food dye than I ever should have fed him).
March: We took a long walk in the woods with every intention of getting hopelessly lost. The only thing I actually lost was my phone. It happened during a snowball fight, which I confess to instigating. Eventually we found both the phone and our way home.
April: I made it through the semester alive - quite a feat with the amount of pressure I was under - all thanks to him.
May: We took a road trip to New York to see Mae, another band he didn't care about at all, and get their scratch and sniff EP. It became a two-day tour of the city that never sleeps. We went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and had dinner with his godmother, who was one cool chica.
June: Our friends came home and much revelry ensued. All nighters. Rock Band. Mike's hard lemonade. Aaand the landmark 6-month anniversary, at which point I was more in love than I'd ever been.
July: His brother Dick took us on a spontaneous late-night road trip to New Hampshire for fireworks, which we set off on the beach on the fourth. I've never nearly died so many times in one night. By that statement, I meant the night of the fourth, but looking back I think I may have nearly died more times on the road trip.
August: I made and promoted the heck out of that video for that scholarship contest with a little help and a lot of support from him.
September: Not much to report, since I was back at school and he was home. We made plans to go to Sacramento for his music video premiere at the Sacramento Horror Film Festival. I was so proud! Oh, and that high school kid raising money door-to-door caught us hooking up in the hallway. Most embarrassing (but hilarious) moment EVER.
October: Well, here we are. Ten months and a break-up later. There are two things I won't say.
1. I won't say I wish I never met him. These are the things that make us who we are. The things that teach us what we need, what we want, what we can live without.
2. I won't say I wasn't in love. It would be a shameless lie.
I will say that it was time to move on. It had been some while since I'd felt the way I felt in June, when I convinced myself I was ready to give him that last piece of me that I had been saving - my virginity. But by the time I got on birth control, I was starting to notice the things I wanted that weren't there and decided not to give it up. Now I'm glad I held out.
I didn't want the darkness and fear he thrived on - the movies he watched, the movies he made, the heavy metal music and the image that went with it. It is my nature to love light and hope and beauty. I love the details that make this world so special. I love the care that God puts into them. Those weren't things he appreciated.
I wanted romance, poetry and love songs. I wanted him to bring me flowers for no reason. I wanted travels and beach days (which he disliked because of the way sand felt on his skin). I wanted adventures and asymmetry (which he couldn't stand, at least not in architecture).
I wanted to be challenged intellectually, spiritually, physically; instead I was only challenged sexually. He never forced me to do anything, yet I always had the sense that I was keeping from him the one thing that would make him happiest. For that I was, and am, sorry; or at least about the pain it caused.
I wanted him to act right around a lady, even when he was with the guys. I was sick of the rude humor and rude language, sick of the way he talked about other races and religions (even if it was only in jest, for to every joke there is a grain of truth).
I wanted to see him quit buying (or, as I saw it, wasting) time and go somewhere he really wanted to go, knowing good things were waiting to happen.
I told him that - that good things were waiting to happen - and in the end, even I couldn't stay his "good thing" forever.
I look at all that stuff I want and think, that's a lot to ask of one person. No one in the world can offer all that. No, but someone can offer some of it. From the beginning I wondered why I was so in love with someone who didn't fit a single one of my criteria, and you know what? It was a good fit. That's all I can say. I was happy, he was happy, and it worked - until now.
About a month ago I started living excuse to excuse. I was constantly relieved to find reasons to stay at school instead of coming back to be with him, because I hated it when we hooked up and didn't know how to say so. Somehow I knew it would break us and I didn't want that. I knew I was being selfish. I loved him (though maybe not quite as I had before) and needed him, so I clung to what we had, even though I knew what he needed was something I couldn't give. Time and time again I heard him talk about the people who had hurt him in the past and how he was moving past it, leaving them behind.
I didn't want to be left behind.
I hated the idea of hurting him and it seemed to me that the hurt of ending it would be greater than the hurt of staying together without having sex, but in the end only he could decide that. He finally got me to talk about what was bothering me after a month or more of knowing something wasn't right. I said I couldn't keep saying I'd be ready soon, soon, soon, when clearly it was going to be some time before I was ready to share that kind of intimacy with someone. By then I was so far into the valley that I had no desire to try and become ready. I had been trying for months. It just wasn't there. I wasn't in love anymore. I didn't say so, but that's how it was.
I left the ball in his court, and tonight he ended it. Even though I'd seen it coming, it hit me hard. I was crying. He was crying. My God, I made him cry - I didn't think I could. That was what killed me, seeing him like that and knowing I had caused it. I knew I would be okay if he was okay and made him promise he would take care driving home. I was so afraid he'd crash, accidentally or on purpose, or that he would hurt himself some other way. I couldn't live with that.
After he left I more or less dissolved into a sobbing, shaking puddle on the floor. I think part of it was adrenaline. Part of it might have even been relief. But the greatest part of it was sadness. I knew I wouldn't be hearing from Boyfriend for a while (although we're going to have to figure out the Sacramento situation, since I'm officially uninvited). I mopped myself up enough to call his dad and ask him to keep an eye on things tonight. Hanging up, I felt marginally better.
The chapter ends like this. I still love him, just not the way he wants. I want nothing but the best for him and I want to be a part of it if he'll let me. I haven't written him off as a romantic possibility, but he's got changing to do if we're going to try this again, and in the meantime, at twenty, I've got people to meet before I can think about settling down. As for my first love, time will heal him, and when it does I hope that we can be friends.
At least one good thing has come of this: My sister is actually nice to me when I'm miserable. Granted, there's nothing comforting about "well, it was God's will" - it still fucking hurts. But this strange peace I feel says she's right. It was kind of her anyway, and after that she gave me music and said good night. Thanks, sis.
Until the sun wipes the sky from grey to blue,
Miss Rex
These past ten months with Boyfriend have been full of peaks and valleys. I remember going back to school after the first time we kissed, ecstatic to tell Schneckleface all about it and the *DATE* we were going on soon!
There were so many firsts for both of us, and for the most part they were exciting firsts that brought me great joy. First time I ever slept over a guy's house. First time I went behind my parents' backs (for the record, that one was more exciting than joyful). First time I'd ever thought I could stick with someone forever, and wanted to. First time I ever planned on it. Among other firsts that brought confusion and even guilt for this quasi-conservatively raised Christian young lady - but let's not think about that just yet. First, a tribute to the things that made me smile... that still make me smile, and will no matter what.
Our first month together disappeared in a flurry of snowflakes and Christmas lights, which somehow seemed brighter than they had in years past. He was so worried about my present, worried he'd offend me since I was "very religious" and he, well, wasn't. For all that, he did a fine job. He even made it to church a couple times. He was so worried I would cheat on him that first month, and I was so glad I wasn't that person, so glad I wasn't bringing more pain into his life when he'd been through so much already (but it's none of my business to go into detail here). He always made sure to tell me how beautiful I looked that day, and I melted every time.
January: I dragged him to a ska show. He teased me about it but didn't complain (even when I got a bloody nose before ever jumping into the action).
February: I got a little adventurous in the kitchen, trying to bake the perfect Valentine's day gift (which involved way more red food dye than I ever should have fed him).
March: We took a long walk in the woods with every intention of getting hopelessly lost. The only thing I actually lost was my phone. It happened during a snowball fight, which I confess to instigating. Eventually we found both the phone and our way home.
April: I made it through the semester alive - quite a feat with the amount of pressure I was under - all thanks to him.
May: We took a road trip to New York to see Mae, another band he didn't care about at all, and get their scratch and sniff EP. It became a two-day tour of the city that never sleeps. We went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and had dinner with his godmother, who was one cool chica.
June: Our friends came home and much revelry ensued. All nighters. Rock Band. Mike's hard lemonade. Aaand the landmark 6-month anniversary, at which point I was more in love than I'd ever been.
July: His brother Dick took us on a spontaneous late-night road trip to New Hampshire for fireworks, which we set off on the beach on the fourth. I've never nearly died so many times in one night. By that statement, I meant the night of the fourth, but looking back I think I may have nearly died more times on the road trip.
August: I made and promoted the heck out of that video for that scholarship contest with a little help and a lot of support from him.
September: Not much to report, since I was back at school and he was home. We made plans to go to Sacramento for his music video premiere at the Sacramento Horror Film Festival. I was so proud! Oh, and that high school kid raising money door-to-door caught us hooking up in the hallway. Most embarrassing (but hilarious) moment EVER.
October: Well, here we are. Ten months and a break-up later. There are two things I won't say.
1. I won't say I wish I never met him. These are the things that make us who we are. The things that teach us what we need, what we want, what we can live without.
2. I won't say I wasn't in love. It would be a shameless lie.
I will say that it was time to move on. It had been some while since I'd felt the way I felt in June, when I convinced myself I was ready to give him that last piece of me that I had been saving - my virginity. But by the time I got on birth control, I was starting to notice the things I wanted that weren't there and decided not to give it up. Now I'm glad I held out.
I didn't want the darkness and fear he thrived on - the movies he watched, the movies he made, the heavy metal music and the image that went with it. It is my nature to love light and hope and beauty. I love the details that make this world so special. I love the care that God puts into them. Those weren't things he appreciated.
I wanted romance, poetry and love songs. I wanted him to bring me flowers for no reason. I wanted travels and beach days (which he disliked because of the way sand felt on his skin). I wanted adventures and asymmetry (which he couldn't stand, at least not in architecture).
I wanted to be challenged intellectually, spiritually, physically; instead I was only challenged sexually. He never forced me to do anything, yet I always had the sense that I was keeping from him the one thing that would make him happiest. For that I was, and am, sorry; or at least about the pain it caused.
I wanted him to act right around a lady, even when he was with the guys. I was sick of the rude humor and rude language, sick of the way he talked about other races and religions (even if it was only in jest, for to every joke there is a grain of truth).
I wanted to see him quit buying (or, as I saw it, wasting) time and go somewhere he really wanted to go, knowing good things were waiting to happen.
I told him that - that good things were waiting to happen - and in the end, even I couldn't stay his "good thing" forever.
I look at all that stuff I want and think, that's a lot to ask of one person. No one in the world can offer all that. No, but someone can offer some of it. From the beginning I wondered why I was so in love with someone who didn't fit a single one of my criteria, and you know what? It was a good fit. That's all I can say. I was happy, he was happy, and it worked - until now.
About a month ago I started living excuse to excuse. I was constantly relieved to find reasons to stay at school instead of coming back to be with him, because I hated it when we hooked up and didn't know how to say so. Somehow I knew it would break us and I didn't want that. I knew I was being selfish. I loved him (though maybe not quite as I had before) and needed him, so I clung to what we had, even though I knew what he needed was something I couldn't give. Time and time again I heard him talk about the people who had hurt him in the past and how he was moving past it, leaving them behind.
I didn't want to be left behind.
I hated the idea of hurting him and it seemed to me that the hurt of ending it would be greater than the hurt of staying together without having sex, but in the end only he could decide that. He finally got me to talk about what was bothering me after a month or more of knowing something wasn't right. I said I couldn't keep saying I'd be ready soon, soon, soon, when clearly it was going to be some time before I was ready to share that kind of intimacy with someone. By then I was so far into the valley that I had no desire to try and become ready. I had been trying for months. It just wasn't there. I wasn't in love anymore. I didn't say so, but that's how it was.
I left the ball in his court, and tonight he ended it. Even though I'd seen it coming, it hit me hard. I was crying. He was crying. My God, I made him cry - I didn't think I could. That was what killed me, seeing him like that and knowing I had caused it. I knew I would be okay if he was okay and made him promise he would take care driving home. I was so afraid he'd crash, accidentally or on purpose, or that he would hurt himself some other way. I couldn't live with that.
After he left I more or less dissolved into a sobbing, shaking puddle on the floor. I think part of it was adrenaline. Part of it might have even been relief. But the greatest part of it was sadness. I knew I wouldn't be hearing from Boyfriend for a while (although we're going to have to figure out the Sacramento situation, since I'm officially uninvited). I mopped myself up enough to call his dad and ask him to keep an eye on things tonight. Hanging up, I felt marginally better.
The chapter ends like this. I still love him, just not the way he wants. I want nothing but the best for him and I want to be a part of it if he'll let me. I haven't written him off as a romantic possibility, but he's got changing to do if we're going to try this again, and in the meantime, at twenty, I've got people to meet before I can think about settling down. As for my first love, time will heal him, and when it does I hope that we can be friends.
At least one good thing has come of this: My sister is actually nice to me when I'm miserable. Granted, there's nothing comforting about "well, it was God's will" - it still fucking hurts. But this strange peace I feel says she's right. It was kind of her anyway, and after that she gave me music and said good night. Thanks, sis.
Until the sun wipes the sky from grey to blue,
Miss Rex
Actually I'm not a very good lesbian.
Context: Visitation policy
I find it ironic and amusing (after all, the two are basically synonyms) that while the rest of my floor was in the RD's apartment last night, eating ice cream and celebrating that we knew school rules better than any of the other halls in my building, I was upstairs breaking lord knows how many rules in my room (and we're not even counting the upholstered furniture). Door shut while Boyfriend was there. Changing while Boyfriend was there. Oh the scandal. Except not, which is perhaps the greatest irony (or tragedy?) of all.
No no, I take it back. The greatest irony of all was that, for all the rules in place around here, we still stumbled upon a couple hooking up in the woods not ten yards from the beginning of the path, in plain view of the Go-Po if they had chanced to look. Oh, so that's what Carrie meant by "sketchy, walk-around-the-pond couples." It's funny because when Boyfriend and I "walk around the pond," we actually just walk around the pond.
I knew things had gone too far when it came time for Boyfriend to go home and I walked him out to his car. We bantered a little bit and he kept giving me raspberries, but ultimately we kissed good night. That was when the Go-Po showed up with a flashing-blue-light local police escort.
Excuses were already racing through my mind. Semantics: it wasn't an "excessive public display of affection," as no one else was there and it was dark, thus making said display of affection not public. Nor was it excessive in any way (except for the volume of Boyfriend's raspberries). I thought we had a pretty good case.
But the cars parked a little ways away from us and the officers started talking to someone on the other side of the lot, clearly not interested or even aware of our supposed transgressions in the nearby shadows. There didn't appear to be any sort of problem that would necessitate the flashing lights. I tend to forget that turning on those gaudy beams is probably the pinnacle of excitement for an officer on a regular shift around here. You do your thing, bro.
I find it ironic and amusing (after all, the two are basically synonyms) that while the rest of my floor was in the RD's apartment last night, eating ice cream and celebrating that we knew school rules better than any of the other halls in my building, I was upstairs breaking lord knows how many rules in my room (and we're not even counting the upholstered furniture). Door shut while Boyfriend was there. Changing while Boyfriend was there. Oh the scandal. Except not, which is perhaps the greatest irony (or tragedy?) of all.
No no, I take it back. The greatest irony of all was that, for all the rules in place around here, we still stumbled upon a couple hooking up in the woods not ten yards from the beginning of the path, in plain view of the Go-Po if they had chanced to look. Oh, so that's what Carrie meant by "sketchy, walk-around-the-pond couples." It's funny because when Boyfriend and I "walk around the pond," we actually just walk around the pond.
I knew things had gone too far when it came time for Boyfriend to go home and I walked him out to his car. We bantered a little bit and he kept giving me raspberries, but ultimately we kissed good night. That was when the Go-Po showed up with a flashing-blue-light local police escort.
Excuses were already racing through my mind. Semantics: it wasn't an "excessive public display of affection," as no one else was there and it was dark, thus making said display of affection not public. Nor was it excessive in any way (except for the volume of Boyfriend's raspberries). I thought we had a pretty good case.
But the cars parked a little ways away from us and the officers started talking to someone on the other side of the lot, clearly not interested or even aware of our supposed transgressions in the nearby shadows. There didn't appear to be any sort of problem that would necessitate the flashing lights. I tend to forget that turning on those gaudy beams is probably the pinnacle of excitement for an officer on a regular shift around here. You do your thing, bro.
In with the new
It's a new school year, so I thought it would be appropriate to share some things that are new in my life.
1. I have a new blog. There's nothing on it yet, and unless you go to my school there probably isn't going to be anything on it that will interest you. But if you want to take a look at what I'm doing in my journalism class throughout the semester, you can see it here. There will be no negative repercussions on A Dustland Fairytale. Everything I would have posted here will still be posted here. Now there's just more to love!
2. I have a new project. Last year I completed the Epic String Project:
Now, having seen that this size purse is barely sufficient to hold a cell phone and some mints, I have begun The Doubleplusepic String Project:
Where the last purse incorporated 48 strings of embroidery thread, each reinforced by folding in half (and thus making the true string count 96), this one will include 60 strings, which should add maybe an inch to the final product's width.
It's gonna take a while. But, I will be amused in chapel!
3. An odd phenomenon took place last spring, namely, that all of my friends suddenly stopped taking pictures of each other and the things we did together. It had been a long time since I'd changed my profile picture, and a friend of mine was looking to add some portraits to her photography portfolio, so we did a little photo shoot. She did a really excellent job, and I would encourage you to check out her website! Here are a few of my favorites from the shoot:
4. (Last one!) Yesterday was my birthday, and as I mentioned in my last post, Boyfriend came to visit. Feast your eyes on the glorious, ADDtastic sparkledom that is my birthday present:
Why yes, I do have the most fabbity fab boyfriend in the world, thank you.
Peace, love, and Scum&Emperor,
Miss Rex
1. I have a new blog. There's nothing on it yet, and unless you go to my school there probably isn't going to be anything on it that will interest you. But if you want to take a look at what I'm doing in my journalism class throughout the semester, you can see it here. There will be no negative repercussions on A Dustland Fairytale. Everything I would have posted here will still be posted here. Now there's just more to love!
2. I have a new project. Last year I completed the Epic String Project:
Now, having seen that this size purse is barely sufficient to hold a cell phone and some mints, I have begun The Doubleplusepic String Project:
Where the last purse incorporated 48 strings of embroidery thread, each reinforced by folding in half (and thus making the true string count 96), this one will include 60 strings, which should add maybe an inch to the final product's width.
It's gonna take a while. But, I will be amused in chapel!
3. An odd phenomenon took place last spring, namely, that all of my friends suddenly stopped taking pictures of each other and the things we did together. It had been a long time since I'd changed my profile picture, and a friend of mine was looking to add some portraits to her photography portfolio, so we did a little photo shoot. She did a really excellent job, and I would encourage you to check out her website! Here are a few of my favorites from the shoot:
4. (Last one!) Yesterday was my birthday, and as I mentioned in my last post, Boyfriend came to visit. Feast your eyes on the glorious, ADDtastic sparkledom that is my birthday present:
Why yes, I do have the most fabbity fab boyfriend in the world, thank you.
Peace, love, and Scum&Emperor,
Miss Rex
To Infinity
Last week I had the privilege of seeing my good friends in Kiros play a show. The first time I saw them, Spontaneous Concert Enthusiast and I ended up getting Taco Bell with them and eating in their van. The second time (2 days later) I drove through rush hour traffic by myself to see them play at some random church where they would be the only people I knew. Somewhere in between, SCE and I joined them for a frigid game of disc golf that involved a lot of embarrassment on my part, which resulted in Neil taking his frisbee away from me so I wouldn't lose it, and subsequently throwing it in a half-frozen swamp and losing it himself.
But back to the original story.
I picked up Ravin and The Pantsless One and we drove out to the show. We got lost, and when we finally found the place it turned out the be the same small church they'd played at before. I WAS COMING FROM THE NORTH THEN, OK? And this time we came from the south. Through the really shady part of town with like, boarded up factories where kids smoked weed all day. No, I'm not stereotyping, jumping to conclusions, or even exaggerating: driving home again, the entire town reeked of Mary Jane.
We found the church and went in. After a minute I spotted Tyler, the drummer, and tackled him with a hug. Tyler has long hair, sweet glasses, and the greatest sleeve ever (it's based on a verse from Ezekiel. It says so on his wrist.) After that we found Ryan, the guitarist, who also got tackled with a hug. Equally long-haired. Less inked. Much sillier (and that's quite a statement if you've met Tyler). Then I found Neil, the lead guitarist, who to me was sort of like the Scarecrow to Dorothy - I got to know him first and thus grew to like him best. The comparison was made perfect by the straw hat he was wearing, which I stole and Gill changed the price tag to read $100.50 (it was only .50 before). At last I ran into Barry, the clean-cut lead singer/bassist. He's got a lot of heart and passion - but offstage, the other guys tend to overshadow him with their antics.
We also met a fellow I dubbed "Buzz Lightyear" because I didn't catch his name and he'd already dubbed us "Mandy, Candy and Sandy" (without anyone telling him my name was Mandii o_O). After that, it was only right that I return the nicknaming favor. He was excited to meet some people that weren't little youth group kids. We were, too. Everyone else there (except the band) was a little youth group kid. I forgot how much that holier than thou vibe drives me insane. But in my impressionable high school years, I was one of them, so I can hardly criticize. They put on a skit before Kiros played, which is only worth mentioning because the kid who played Jesus was later overheard devouring popcorn and telling his friend how blazed he was.
Then the guys finally took the stage. Unfortunately, there were a lot of problems with the audio, and even after a mid-show five-minute break for a hula hooping showdown between Tyler and Ryan, the issue still wasn't resolved. I was sorry Ravin and TPO didn't get to see them at their best, but. Water under the bridge.
We hung around after the show and I invited the band to Dairy Queen, promising that we would pay for their ice cream. They wanted to make sure they spent time with all the fans, plus they had to pack up their gear, so it was a while before we got out of there. I was so hungry that Tyler went to find me some pizza, and when he brought back a slice of pepperoni, I devoured it. Someone kept squirting at me with a water gun and it was really pissing me off.
We finally hit the road, with the kids Kiros was staying with in tow, only to find that Dairy Queen was long closed. We ended up at another pit of fast food filth, McDonald's, where Ryan thoroughly infuriated the lady taking orders by asking why certain items weren't on the menu if they were, in fact, available. Then, while we waited for our ice cream, he stuck his finger up my nose. All I have to say about that is, someone recently told me that "unwanted penetration" is the definition of rape.
But maybe I deserved it. I did, after all, try to fish the $20 he stole from me out of his pocket when he wouldn't give it back.
We annoyed the hell out of the Mickey's staff until someone remembered that we had lil babies with us, who needed to be brought home at a reasonable hour, and we parted ways. Ryan made me promise to wear my heart shaped sunglasses to the show the following day and stand in the front row right where he plays so he could take them and wear them during his solo. I promised. I nabbed Neil's hat again and said he could have it tomorrow. Hugs all around, and then Ravin, TPO and I drove back to Ravin's house, enjoying that delicious buzz that comes from a night full of good music, good friends, and good ice cream (and had nothing to do with driving through Weedville.)
But back to the original story.
I picked up Ravin and The Pantsless One and we drove out to the show. We got lost, and when we finally found the place it turned out the be the same small church they'd played at before. I WAS COMING FROM THE NORTH THEN, OK? And this time we came from the south. Through the really shady part of town with like, boarded up factories where kids smoked weed all day. No, I'm not stereotyping, jumping to conclusions, or even exaggerating: driving home again, the entire town reeked of Mary Jane.
We found the church and went in. After a minute I spotted Tyler, the drummer, and tackled him with a hug. Tyler has long hair, sweet glasses, and the greatest sleeve ever (it's based on a verse from Ezekiel. It says so on his wrist.) After that we found Ryan, the guitarist, who also got tackled with a hug. Equally long-haired. Less inked. Much sillier (and that's quite a statement if you've met Tyler). Then I found Neil, the lead guitarist, who to me was sort of like the Scarecrow to Dorothy - I got to know him first and thus grew to like him best. The comparison was made perfect by the straw hat he was wearing, which I stole and Gill changed the price tag to read $100.50 (it was only .50 before). At last I ran into Barry, the clean-cut lead singer/bassist. He's got a lot of heart and passion - but offstage, the other guys tend to overshadow him with their antics.
We also met a fellow I dubbed "Buzz Lightyear" because I didn't catch his name and he'd already dubbed us "Mandy, Candy and Sandy" (without anyone telling him my name was Mandii o_O). After that, it was only right that I return the nicknaming favor. He was excited to meet some people that weren't little youth group kids. We were, too. Everyone else there (except the band) was a little youth group kid. I forgot how much that holier than thou vibe drives me insane. But in my impressionable high school years, I was one of them, so I can hardly criticize. They put on a skit before Kiros played, which is only worth mentioning because the kid who played Jesus was later overheard devouring popcorn and telling his friend how blazed he was.
Then the guys finally took the stage. Unfortunately, there were a lot of problems with the audio, and even after a mid-show five-minute break for a hula hooping showdown between Tyler and Ryan, the issue still wasn't resolved. I was sorry Ravin and TPO didn't get to see them at their best, but. Water under the bridge.
We hung around after the show and I invited the band to Dairy Queen, promising that we would pay for their ice cream. They wanted to make sure they spent time with all the fans, plus they had to pack up their gear, so it was a while before we got out of there. I was so hungry that Tyler went to find me some pizza, and when he brought back a slice of pepperoni, I devoured it. Someone kept squirting at me with a water gun and it was really pissing me off.
We finally hit the road, with the kids Kiros was staying with in tow, only to find that Dairy Queen was long closed. We ended up at another pit of fast food filth, McDonald's, where Ryan thoroughly infuriated the lady taking orders by asking why certain items weren't on the menu if they were, in fact, available. Then, while we waited for our ice cream, he stuck his finger up my nose. All I have to say about that is, someone recently told me that "unwanted penetration" is the definition of rape.
But maybe I deserved it. I did, after all, try to fish the $20 he stole from me out of his pocket when he wouldn't give it back.
We annoyed the hell out of the Mickey's staff until someone remembered that we had lil babies with us, who needed to be brought home at a reasonable hour, and we parted ways. Ryan made me promise to wear my heart shaped sunglasses to the show the following day and stand in the front row right where he plays so he could take them and wear them during his solo. I promised. I nabbed Neil's hat again and said he could have it tomorrow. Hugs all around, and then Ravin, TPO and I drove back to Ravin's house, enjoying that delicious buzz that comes from a night full of good music, good friends, and good ice cream (and had nothing to do with driving through Weedville.)
Ban the tube top!
I just ordered these sexcellent new galoshes! I've spent way too much money today but I really do need new rainboots, it was a fabulous deal, and I mean, look at them:
Soooo.... I went to this Reel Big Fish concert with Ravin and The Pantsless One foreverrr ago and I'm finally getting around to blogging about it. Life's been that way. No time, busy busy busy. But in a good way. More on that later. Anyhow, the concert was great. The venue was awkward in a new-agey-meets-parent-of-a-kindergartener's-fridge sort of way. There were these weird paintings that looked like my campers could've done them, with nonexistent words painted clumsily across the page. A big oval plaque up front over the stage bore the image of what I'd say was a hand, but with three fingers and a curly thumb on each side; it read, "All is one. Who do you love?" Perhaps supposed to be endearing, like our "Home is where your Mom is" sign, but really it only managed to be unsettling. The ladies' room was circular, which also made me uncomfortable, and the coloring/lighting did not help my phobia of public restrooms.
The openers were good enough, but you know how it is when you don't know any of the songs and you're waiting for the main act to take the stage. When they finally did, I let the circles sweep me away. Somehow I hardly got bruised at all in the melee. Although I did get knocked to the ground during "Beer" and while down there, managed to trip another three or four people before someone pushed the crowd back and helped us up. I love it when moshers are kind and helpful. Ravin had a personal protector all night. He kept pulling her out of messes and saying things like, "you'll be safe now."
We had to leave before the encore because we thought we'd miss our train. But then we weren't sure where the station was and walked past it, at which point we encountered some random dudes who had a question for us.
"Hey, hey, can I ask you an honest question?" one of them asked in this brilliant accent that made us all melt a little more than we wanted to admit. "Does it look like I am wearing eyeliner?"
I was confused why he was talking to us and didn't manage to say anything, but finally Ravin or TPO was like, "no, no - you just have, uh, really dark eyelashes." So I nodded and agreed. Then they asked us to go to the Roxy with them and we were like ummm no. Then it was double awkward because we realized we'd passed the station and had to turn around and walk by them again.
Then, on the train, we befriended this one kid who was also at the show, and he was a sweetheart and didn't hit on any of us, which was great of him, because as soon as he left, two more guys came up to us with another question.
"Does he look drunk to you?" said the first guy, pointing to his friend.
I didn't particularly think so or care, so I was like "no, not at all... tra la la la la" and went about my business. But then, after me Ravin and TPO had a long and loud discussion about the Disney channel, they tried to get us to come for a ride in their limo (what? What is attractive/seductive about discussing the Disney channel?). We told them unless their limo had ice cream, we'd have to pass. Then we got in TPO's car and drove to Wendy's, where I got ice cream. The end!
Oh, but I did promise to explain why I've been so absent. Aside from work, my social life picked up and I've spent 80% of my waking hours (and a lot of my sleeping ones, too) at Ravin's and Boyfriend's houses. I've been swimming in Deluxebury countless times in the past two weeks (my poor gas tank, but well worth it anyway). Ravin's friend from school, Bear, who we befriended when he visited last summer, came for another visit and I basically moved in at Ravin's for the week he was there. But not as much as TPO, who literally moved in.
I have many a story about said visit, but it shall have to wait until my eyes no longer burn from staring at a computer screen and not sleeping in order to make this 30-second short I'm entering in a scholarship contest. I found out about it a week ago. Shot it this weekend. Captured yesterday. Rough cut done today. I mean business here; $5000 are on the line! I'm supposed to show how I'm saving money for college. It's allowed to be funny and creative. I hope that encompasses "fictional" because my concept is that I try to sell a few things we don't need and end up selling everything we own. So, final cut will hopefully be done tomorrow, which coincidentally is Boyfriend's birthday!! Yay, happy birthday!!!
And now this post is officially over.
Soooo.... I went to this Reel Big Fish concert with Ravin and The Pantsless One foreverrr ago and I'm finally getting around to blogging about it. Life's been that way. No time, busy busy busy. But in a good way. More on that later. Anyhow, the concert was great. The venue was awkward in a new-agey-meets-parent-of-a-kindergartener's-fridge sort of way. There were these weird paintings that looked like my campers could've done them, with nonexistent words painted clumsily across the page. A big oval plaque up front over the stage bore the image of what I'd say was a hand, but with three fingers and a curly thumb on each side; it read, "All is one. Who do you love?" Perhaps supposed to be endearing, like our "Home is where your Mom is" sign, but really it only managed to be unsettling. The ladies' room was circular, which also made me uncomfortable, and the coloring/lighting did not help my phobia of public restrooms.
The openers were good enough, but you know how it is when you don't know any of the songs and you're waiting for the main act to take the stage. When they finally did, I let the circles sweep me away. Somehow I hardly got bruised at all in the melee. Although I did get knocked to the ground during "Beer" and while down there, managed to trip another three or four people before someone pushed the crowd back and helped us up. I love it when moshers are kind and helpful. Ravin had a personal protector all night. He kept pulling her out of messes and saying things like, "you'll be safe now."
We had to leave before the encore because we thought we'd miss our train. But then we weren't sure where the station was and walked past it, at which point we encountered some random dudes who had a question for us.
"Hey, hey, can I ask you an honest question?" one of them asked in this brilliant accent that made us all melt a little more than we wanted to admit. "Does it look like I am wearing eyeliner?"
I was confused why he was talking to us and didn't manage to say anything, but finally Ravin or TPO was like, "no, no - you just have, uh, really dark eyelashes." So I nodded and agreed. Then they asked us to go to the Roxy with them and we were like ummm no. Then it was double awkward because we realized we'd passed the station and had to turn around and walk by them again.
Then, on the train, we befriended this one kid who was also at the show, and he was a sweetheart and didn't hit on any of us, which was great of him, because as soon as he left, two more guys came up to us with another question.
"Does he look drunk to you?" said the first guy, pointing to his friend.
I didn't particularly think so or care, so I was like "no, not at all... tra la la la la" and went about my business. But then, after me Ravin and TPO had a long and loud discussion about the Disney channel, they tried to get us to come for a ride in their limo (what? What is attractive/seductive about discussing the Disney channel?). We told them unless their limo had ice cream, we'd have to pass. Then we got in TPO's car and drove to Wendy's, where I got ice cream. The end!
Oh, but I did promise to explain why I've been so absent. Aside from work, my social life picked up and I've spent 80% of my waking hours (and a lot of my sleeping ones, too) at Ravin's and Boyfriend's houses. I've been swimming in Deluxebury countless times in the past two weeks (my poor gas tank, but well worth it anyway). Ravin's friend from school, Bear, who we befriended when he visited last summer, came for another visit and I basically moved in at Ravin's for the week he was there. But not as much as TPO, who literally moved in.
I have many a story about said visit, but it shall have to wait until my eyes no longer burn from staring at a computer screen and not sleeping in order to make this 30-second short I'm entering in a scholarship contest. I found out about it a week ago. Shot it this weekend. Captured yesterday. Rough cut done today. I mean business here; $5000 are on the line! I'm supposed to show how I'm saving money for college. It's allowed to be funny and creative. I hope that encompasses "fictional" because my concept is that I try to sell a few things we don't need and end up selling everything we own. So, final cut will hopefully be done tomorrow, which coincidentally is Boyfriend's birthday!! Yay, happy birthday!!!
And now this post is officially over.
Everything is always for the band.
This is the second update I promised earlier this week. You see? I keep my word (usually ^_^).
The Spontaneous Concert Enthusiast called me up the other day around noon to ask if I wanted to go to a show that night, and of course, that's an offer I can't refuse, even if I don't know the band. So we drove about an hour to this sweet-in-a-really-tacky-way little venue to see a band called Kiros.
Except when we got there, the place was still closed. The doors were supposed to have opened, but even the bands hadn't gotten inside yet. SCE sort of knew the guys in Kiros from the time he met them at Soulfest and he introduced me to a couple of them.
Finally someone opened the place and we helped unload the equipment from the trailer. I was freezing because I never bring anything into concerts, so I'd left my coat in SCE's car and was toting equipment wearing just a t-shirt. Well I mean, I obviously had pants on. But it was still really cold. Then Neil, who plays guitar for Kiros, let me borrow his gloves, which were big enough for me to fit both hands in one glove and looked positively ridiculous on me. So, naturally, I wore them all night and even threatened never to give them back.
SCE and I talked to Kiros a bit more while the other bands set up and played. The first thing Ryan (also guitar) said to me - and the only thing he kept saying to me all night - was that I smelled like poop. He even wrote it on the poster he signed for me. But I think I talked to Neil the most. And at least he knew how to be a nice person (i.e. he wrote on my poster that I smelled good ^_^). Not that I had a problem with Ryan being a goofball. Hello, think about the guys I hang out with at home....
The first couple sets were okay. Nothing spectacular musically, and the crowd was really tiny - like maybe 50 people? I'm bad at estimating. Anyway, SCE and a couple other people got the semblance of a mosh pit going (if 3-5 people can be considered a mosh pit) and I joined in. Because there was so much space to run around, we were going pretty fast and it was scary when we actually collided with each other. But really flipping awesome.
Kiros' set was good times. Ryan started by lighting Tyler's cymbals on fire, which created a massive fireball when he started playing. And the songs were downright catchy regardless of whether I could sing along, although Barry, the lead singer, taught us newbies some of the words so we could join in.
SCE and I helped Kiros pack out after the show. At this point, it was like half an hour to SCE's birthday and he used that fact to his advantage by inviting the guys to fast food after the show. So when we finally left around midnight, Neil came with us in SCE's car and we followed the van. But Wendy's was closed, and so was McDonald's, so we wound up at Taco Bell.
Hi, I'm a vegetarian. At least at Mickey's I could've gotten a fake-shake (they don't use real milk, I'm told). Neil recommended the apple empanada so I got that and cheese quesadillas. Then we all squished into the back of the van to eat.
Hehe, Tyler's face in this one....
Barry gives SCE a birthday hug.
Barry tried to pretend like some brownies they had in the van were actually for SCE's birthday, but they were totally sketchy brownies. I have a feeling they left out the vegetable oil or some other crucial ingredient that boys wouldn't understand the importance of. I promised to make them amazingtastic brownies someday. (If I'm going to make a habit of keeping my word, I should probably not make promises that aren't easy to keep...)
Ryan with the brownies.
Barry tries to carve SCE's name into the brownies.
After we'd all eaten and enjoyed a few good laughs at ridiculous names we made up for tours (such as "The Velocirap-tour"), it was time to go. I was having so much fun I would've stayed all night, but by then it was probably around 1:30AM and we had at least an hour's drive back to school. I totally fell asleep on the ride back. I think I even snored a little, which always happens when I fall asleep sitting up. How embarrassing. ^_~
Priceless quotes:
"So when I turned seven, she turned... existing." (Neil talking about my sister, who has the same birthday as him.)
"You smell like poop." (Ryan)
"Tour baby! We're taking your baby on tour with us!!" (Neil)
"Come on! Give me a high five!" (Ryan, chasing a little girl around trying to get her to give him a high five. But Neil told her not to, and she wouldn't even look at Ryan after that.)
"I'm not gay; I'm just in a band." (Neil)
"Oh! Excuse me for interrupting myself with that awesome fart." (Neil)
"The Rugrats Rep-tour!!" (Barry)
"The... God is our Lord and Crea-tour!" (Ryan)
Me: Can I have a sip of your soda?
Neil: Only if you call it by its proper name. Say "pop."
Me: Okay, can I have a sip of your pop?
Neil: Sure!
The Spontaneous Concert Enthusiast called me up the other day around noon to ask if I wanted to go to a show that night, and of course, that's an offer I can't refuse, even if I don't know the band. So we drove about an hour to this sweet-in-a-really-tacky-way little venue to see a band called Kiros.
Except when we got there, the place was still closed. The doors were supposed to have opened, but even the bands hadn't gotten inside yet. SCE sort of knew the guys in Kiros from the time he met them at Soulfest and he introduced me to a couple of them.
Finally someone opened the place and we helped unload the equipment from the trailer. I was freezing because I never bring anything into concerts, so I'd left my coat in SCE's car and was toting equipment wearing just a t-shirt. Well I mean, I obviously had pants on. But it was still really cold. Then Neil, who plays guitar for Kiros, let me borrow his gloves, which were big enough for me to fit both hands in one glove and looked positively ridiculous on me. So, naturally, I wore them all night and even threatened never to give them back.
SCE and I talked to Kiros a bit more while the other bands set up and played. The first thing Ryan (also guitar) said to me - and the only thing he kept saying to me all night - was that I smelled like poop. He even wrote it on the poster he signed for me. But I think I talked to Neil the most. And at least he knew how to be a nice person (i.e. he wrote on my poster that I smelled good ^_^). Not that I had a problem with Ryan being a goofball. Hello, think about the guys I hang out with at home....
The first couple sets were okay. Nothing spectacular musically, and the crowd was really tiny - like maybe 50 people? I'm bad at estimating. Anyway, SCE and a couple other people got the semblance of a mosh pit going (if 3-5 people can be considered a mosh pit) and I joined in. Because there was so much space to run around, we were going pretty fast and it was scary when we actually collided with each other. But really flipping awesome.
Kiros' set was good times. Ryan started by lighting Tyler's cymbals on fire, which created a massive fireball when he started playing. And the songs were downright catchy regardless of whether I could sing along, although Barry, the lead singer, taught us newbies some of the words so we could join in.
SCE and I helped Kiros pack out after the show. At this point, it was like half an hour to SCE's birthday and he used that fact to his advantage by inviting the guys to fast food after the show. So when we finally left around midnight, Neil came with us in SCE's car and we followed the van. But Wendy's was closed, and so was McDonald's, so we wound up at Taco Bell.
Hi, I'm a vegetarian. At least at Mickey's I could've gotten a fake-shake (they don't use real milk, I'm told). Neil recommended the apple empanada so I got that and cheese quesadillas. Then we all squished into the back of the van to eat.
Hehe, Tyler's face in this one....
Barry gives SCE a birthday hug.
Barry tried to pretend like some brownies they had in the van were actually for SCE's birthday, but they were totally sketchy brownies. I have a feeling they left out the vegetable oil or some other crucial ingredient that boys wouldn't understand the importance of. I promised to make them amazingtastic brownies someday. (If I'm going to make a habit of keeping my word, I should probably not make promises that aren't easy to keep...)
Ryan with the brownies.
Barry tries to carve SCE's name into the brownies.
After we'd all eaten and enjoyed a few good laughs at ridiculous names we made up for tours (such as "The Velocirap-tour"), it was time to go. I was having so much fun I would've stayed all night, but by then it was probably around 1:30AM and we had at least an hour's drive back to school. I totally fell asleep on the ride back. I think I even snored a little, which always happens when I fall asleep sitting up. How embarrassing. ^_~
Priceless quotes:
"So when I turned seven, she turned... existing." (Neil talking about my sister, who has the same birthday as him.)
"You smell like poop." (Ryan)
"Tour baby! We're taking your baby on tour with us!!" (Neil)
"Come on! Give me a high five!" (Ryan, chasing a little girl around trying to get her to give him a high five. But Neil told her not to, and she wouldn't even look at Ryan after that.)
"I'm not gay; I'm just in a band." (Neil)
"Oh! Excuse me for interrupting myself with that awesome fart." (Neil)
"The Rugrats Rep-tour!!" (Barry)
"The... God is our Lord and Crea-tour!" (Ryan)
Me: Can I have a sip of your soda?
Neil: Only if you call it by its proper name. Say "pop."
Me: Okay, can I have a sip of your pop?
Neil: Sure!
