yesterday, my friend asked me if i had ever "broken up" with a friend.
well, the answer is yes.
here is that story.
we had been best buds since nursery school. we watched "david the gnome" during lunches of grilled cheese in elementary school. we switched schools together and carpooled every day. we approached puberty, we started playing sports, we made new friends.
i think i have always been a "fuddy duddy" in other people's eyes. i really liked myself though, when i was in middle school. i thought i was cool (except i had zits, thanks to early puberty, which were not cool). as it turns out, i was sharon (of my so-called life), and she was angela. very soon, she acquired a rayanne. our real-life rayanne was rich, and cool. she had an older sister who was bad ass. i was a team player who just said no. i had an older brother who was bad ass, but i didn't know it at the time. all that rayanne and i (sharon) had in common was that we both dyed our hair with manic panic (she was red, i was purple). by the time we had finished middle school and in the beginning of high school, we were running with different crowds. angela and rayanne were hanging out all of the time. i was starting to feel unsteady about my relationship with angela. one weekend, i called her to hang out that evening. angela said she would come over later. when later arrived, she called and said she couldn't come over because she had to babysit. back in school the following week, i found out that she had actually been out with rayanne that evening. i confronted her about it. i wrote her a novel/letter. it said that i could not be lied to, and i was tired of being stuck as the runner-up. we exchanged words on the phone, as she was now away at school, and we ended things. we stopped talking, stopped writing letters, stopped hanging out when she was home.
i felt that it was better for me not to have to feel so badly about someone who was supposed to be my friend. it was a little better. it was a weight lifted off of my shoulders to release us of the then burden of maintaining a friendship, but it was still very sad.
a happy ending: angela returned home the following year and we made up. slowly we returned to being friends again, and we are in touch today.
i consider that the only real friend "break up" i've ever had. i've of course lost touch with several others, but that is the only one that i facilitated and the only one that healed itself.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
grownup
rodrigo said it.
"i'm not getting any younger."
one day i will have a huge, huge caboose. i will not go gray early, my mind will stay spry. right now, i am able to run for extended periods of time without aching joints. i once was able to swim for hours and sprint a 200 in under 30.
i am getting older by the second (so are you).
what once interested me now does not.
for my 24th birthday, i was given a gift. that gift was the ability to recognize that i no longer enjoy getting shitfaced and spending the subsequent day hung over on the couch.
every life experience i have had has led me to conclusions and new decisions and improvements in my life.
sra. blot --> latin --> classical studies
the fire --> necessity for self-sufficiency
jojo --> how self-deprecation can quickly deteriorate positive opportunities
ana --> the importance of truth
3935 pine --> how to kick my own butt when my butt needed kicking, and no one was around to kick it
rico was an experience!--> the joy of not being too intense
cokehead --> my disdain of destructive addictions
americorps (ms. t) --> major life decision, and the realization that "ghetto" is not cool
okie --> slow down! ask the question again, and see if it makes sense
whatever. the point is, i value honesty, reason, and good food.
"i'm not getting any younger."
one day i will have a huge, huge caboose. i will not go gray early, my mind will stay spry. right now, i am able to run for extended periods of time without aching joints. i once was able to swim for hours and sprint a 200 in under 30.
i am getting older by the second (so are you).
what once interested me now does not.
for my 24th birthday, i was given a gift. that gift was the ability to recognize that i no longer enjoy getting shitfaced and spending the subsequent day hung over on the couch.
every life experience i have had has led me to conclusions and new decisions and improvements in my life.
sra. blot --> latin --> classical studies
the fire --> necessity for self-sufficiency
jojo --> how self-deprecation can quickly deteriorate positive opportunities
ana --> the importance of truth
3935 pine --> how to kick my own butt when my butt needed kicking, and no one was around to kick it
rico was an experience!--> the joy of not being too intense
cokehead --> my disdain of destructive addictions
americorps (ms. t) --> major life decision, and the realization that "ghetto" is not cool
okie --> slow down! ask the question again, and see if it makes sense
whatever. the point is, i value honesty, reason, and good food.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
i'm done
working in the northeast (of philadelphia) brings me new challenges every day. most of these challenges are very different from those of my previous school in southwest (philly). my most recent grimace-maker is:
"i'm done my work, what should i do?"
no, it's not the question that bothers me, it's the "[SUBJECT]+[VERB FORM of done]+[OBJECT]" but where is my beloved preposition "with"???
"i'm done with my work"
"i'm done with my work"
and TEACHERS SAY IT TOO!
what do i do?
i want to vomit daily.
"i'm done my work, what should i do?"
no, it's not the question that bothers me, it's the "[SUBJECT]+[VERB FORM of done]+[OBJECT]" but where is my beloved preposition "with"???
"i'm done with my work"
"i'm done with my work"
and TEACHERS SAY IT TOO!
what do i do?
i want to vomit daily.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
best fear factor EVER
i know, i know.
whatever! everyone has stupid guilty pleasures on tv. i am somehow totally attracted to fear factor. and tonight's episode was the BEST EVER.
first of all, it was couples, which doesn't make it the best, but also it wasn't all romantic couples. there was one pair of friends and one brother-sister pair.
the first stunt was something involving flags and running and jumping in the air on a platform. BO-ring.
THE SECOND STUNT:
lie down on the human spinner, where ALL of the options are hairstyles. the hairstyle options were BALD, mohawk, taco, patches, sideways mohawk, and bald spot. the woman had to go first.
first chick said, "FUCK NO BITCHES, I HAVE FUCKIN SEXY HAIR!" (she didn't really say that, but you know thats what she was thinking when fuckin taco hair came up).
they were out.
second couple was the brother and sister pair, and sis said, "SHOW ME THE MONEY!" and she ROCKED OUT to her patches hairdo. then so did her brother (how cute, matching 'dos).
third couple backed out when the smack-talking-chick wouldn't do a bald 'do.
third stunt was kinda crazy with rope ladders in the air leading up to this big box where you unscrew bolts off of some trap door that leads into the box where man and woman rub wires and are shot out of the box into the water.
bro and sis won. they rocked.
love them.
ok that's it. best ever. go joe.
whatever! everyone has stupid guilty pleasures on tv. i am somehow totally attracted to fear factor. and tonight's episode was the BEST EVER.
first of all, it was couples, which doesn't make it the best, but also it wasn't all romantic couples. there was one pair of friends and one brother-sister pair.
the first stunt was something involving flags and running and jumping in the air on a platform. BO-ring.
THE SECOND STUNT:
lie down on the human spinner, where ALL of the options are hairstyles. the hairstyle options were BALD, mohawk, taco, patches, sideways mohawk, and bald spot. the woman had to go first.
first chick said, "FUCK NO BITCHES, I HAVE FUCKIN SEXY HAIR!" (she didn't really say that, but you know thats what she was thinking when fuckin taco hair came up).
they were out.
second couple was the brother and sister pair, and sis said, "SHOW ME THE MONEY!" and she ROCKED OUT to her patches hairdo. then so did her brother (how cute, matching 'dos).
third couple backed out when the smack-talking-chick wouldn't do a bald 'do.
third stunt was kinda crazy with rope ladders in the air leading up to this big box where you unscrew bolts off of some trap door that leads into the box where man and woman rub wires and are shot out of the box into the water.
bro and sis won. they rocked.
love them.
ok that's it. best ever. go joe.
dear kit,
you are crazy.
that is why we are friends.
that, and all those sleepovers where you fell asleep at 9:00, all those early swim practices in high school when we weren't fatties, and all those shady dealings with ex-boytoys.
we are both bitchy, but you could also euphemize that by describing us as "honest."
just wanted to let you know, i think you're a crackhead and you consciously make several not-so-good decisions, but you are honest and work hard when it counts (sometimes).
okbye.
come over so we can eat sushi.
that is why we are friends.
that, and all those sleepovers where you fell asleep at 9:00, all those early swim practices in high school when we weren't fatties, and all those shady dealings with ex-boytoys.
we are both bitchy, but you could also euphemize that by describing us as "honest."
just wanted to let you know, i think you're a crackhead and you consciously make several not-so-good decisions, but you are honest and work hard when it counts (sometimes).
okbye.
come over so we can eat sushi.
Monday, January 23, 2006
dear mr. death,
i do like the uncomfortable conversations. they are strangely comfortable for me. i like the feeling of exploding feelings.
also, roommate thinks you are an invisible man. an invisible tattooed man. please prove her wrong. she wants to frequent a diner with you and me and a pack of ciggies.
htb thinks you are a fat tattooed man, like the one in my birthday card.
hobag knows you exist, but thinks you are afraid of all of us crazy gals in the same room.
here is what i offer you here with me in philly:
capogiro or cafe toscano (toni v's digs)
fixing my chair, which is for the most part, totally FINE
playing with mr. kittyface, who is so much fun
reading terminal market
and, of course, ME
and I'M GREAT
on another note, firehouse farmers market closed!
sad. am mourning the end of amish chickens.
also, roommate thinks you are an invisible man. an invisible tattooed man. please prove her wrong. she wants to frequent a diner with you and me and a pack of ciggies.
htb thinks you are a fat tattooed man, like the one in my birthday card.
hobag knows you exist, but thinks you are afraid of all of us crazy gals in the same room.
here is what i offer you here with me in philly:
capogiro or cafe toscano (toni v's digs)
fixing my chair, which is for the most part, totally FINE
playing with mr. kittyface, who is so much fun
reading terminal market
and, of course, ME
and I'M GREAT
on another note, firehouse farmers market closed!
sad. am mourning the end of amish chickens.
white is not a flava
current pet peeve: WHITE milk.
in case you don't see where this is going, let me explain.
milk, the common name for the nutritious fluid that we humans extract from cows, pasteurize, and drink or consume in another form (ice cream, butter, etc.), is actually the color white.
chocolate, which is in the u.s. a combination of cocoa (a bitter bean with rich flavor), sugar and other ingredients, is usually brown.
strawberries, berries which grow on vines in the summer, are naturally pink or red.
vanilla, a flavor extracted from the vanilla bean, is usually characterized by white or off-white food, though the bean itself is dark brown or blackish.
milk is normally white in color, but it is not flavored with whiteness. it does not taste like white. it tastes like milk. chocolate milk is normal milk with chocolate added to it. strawberry milk is [disgusting] regular milk with strawberry flavor added to it, and it does not taste like pink.
your general options are:
milk, chocolate milk, or strawberry milk.
your general options are not:
white milk, chocolate milk, or pink milk.
in case you don't see where this is going, let me explain.
milk, the common name for the nutritious fluid that we humans extract from cows, pasteurize, and drink or consume in another form (ice cream, butter, etc.), is actually the color white.
chocolate, which is in the u.s. a combination of cocoa (a bitter bean with rich flavor), sugar and other ingredients, is usually brown.
strawberries, berries which grow on vines in the summer, are naturally pink or red.
vanilla, a flavor extracted from the vanilla bean, is usually characterized by white or off-white food, though the bean itself is dark brown or blackish.
milk is normally white in color, but it is not flavored with whiteness. it does not taste like white. it tastes like milk. chocolate milk is normal milk with chocolate added to it. strawberry milk is [disgusting] regular milk with strawberry flavor added to it, and it does not taste like pink.
your general options are:
milk, chocolate milk, or strawberry milk.
your general options are not:
white milk, chocolate milk, or pink milk.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
if you can't take the heat
get outta my kitchen.
i feel like i don't ask for anything that i wouldn't do or give in return. that is like my golden rule of friendship. i will always want to hear your truth, and i will always give you mine. i want to hear about your shit and tell you about mine, and no guilt. everyone and their mother has some guilt complex about something, but the benefit of being a human is that you can recognize and understand things like that and change if you so choose, and choose!
i dunno.
anyway. if i seem harsh at times, just be harsh back.
now you know why i mimic faces all the time. i'm just trying to give back what you've given me. cause i love you. and hate you. and love you again.
preview:
next post will recount the dream i had this morning where hobag and i were working on a secret language, when all of the sudden i was back in a dream i have had already in which nora and i are kidnapped by a restauranteur who is also a yakuza in japan, and we have to escape death by performing a number of secret rituals. luckily, i had already had this dream, so i knew what to do.
i feel like i don't ask for anything that i wouldn't do or give in return. that is like my golden rule of friendship. i will always want to hear your truth, and i will always give you mine. i want to hear about your shit and tell you about mine, and no guilt. everyone and their mother has some guilt complex about something, but the benefit of being a human is that you can recognize and understand things like that and change if you so choose, and choose!
i dunno.
anyway. if i seem harsh at times, just be harsh back.
now you know why i mimic faces all the time. i'm just trying to give back what you've given me. cause i love you. and hate you. and love you again.
preview:
next post will recount the dream i had this morning where hobag and i were working on a secret language, when all of the sudden i was back in a dream i have had already in which nora and i are kidnapped by a restauranteur who is also a yakuza in japan, and we have to escape death by performing a number of secret rituals. luckily, i had already had this dream, so i knew what to do.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
my fake internet best friend
we would have totally been hanging out in high school.
she is the shizzle.
she is the shizzle.
or-e-UH-os
mike has chapped lips.
these chapped lips like to munch on things like cheetos, pretzles, and oreos.
when these chapped lips munch and crunch on these snacks, they save a little treat for later.
they become ENCRUSTED with the crumbs of whatever snack he ate.
wednesday was oreos, and his upper lip was literally half black after lunch. thank goodness he had to go to an appointment, because all i could look at was that half-of-a-lip and the oreo layer that had attached itself to it. every lick of his tongue to the cookie edge made me shudder.
also, i noticed that he eats the salt that falls off his pretzles onto the desk by sticking them to his finger and sucking. sucking with that same mouth that vaporized the oreos.
ewie.
these chapped lips like to munch on things like cheetos, pretzles, and oreos.
when these chapped lips munch and crunch on these snacks, they save a little treat for later.
they become ENCRUSTED with the crumbs of whatever snack he ate.
wednesday was oreos, and his upper lip was literally half black after lunch. thank goodness he had to go to an appointment, because all i could look at was that half-of-a-lip and the oreo layer that had attached itself to it. every lick of his tongue to the cookie edge made me shudder.
also, i noticed that he eats the salt that falls off his pretzles onto the desk by sticking them to his finger and sucking. sucking with that same mouth that vaporized the oreos.
ewie.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
pretty pink pills
i just realized (as a 2nd seasonale commercial came on during the duration of wb's sex and the city) that i used to be very conservative, especially when it comes to sexuality, sexual practices, and sexual health. i was soooo against hormonal birth control. this came back to me as the thought, "seasonale is so cool! i would totally take that," popped into my head. it really did.
i remember the first conversation my mother and i had about taking the pill. we just argued and argued about why i should alter my body chemistry, blah blah blah, i hardly even take medicine, blah blah blah.
then everyone decided i was the biggest stiff and come college, i join (and eventually lead) flash (facilitating learning about sexual health), and i go on the pill! neato!
just some thoughts.
now i am totally pro-ring.
go ahead. ask me about it.
i remember the first conversation my mother and i had about taking the pill. we just argued and argued about why i should alter my body chemistry, blah blah blah, i hardly even take medicine, blah blah blah.
then everyone decided i was the biggest stiff and come college, i join (and eventually lead) flash (facilitating learning about sexual health), and i go on the pill! neato!
just some thoughts.
now i am totally pro-ring.
go ahead. ask me about it.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
what's my school trauma?
i just realized that i've been having a recurring dream where i am still in school (unsure of whether it is college or high school, but it is located in the upper school), and i have no idea what my schedule is. somehow, i still manage to make it to some classes, even though i never make it to school early enough to park in the lot, and always end up parking down on lloyd rd. then i rush to the building and usually have to sneak into assembly in the auditorium. i end up going to classes here and there, and i go to the first math class, but it ends up being so unbearably butt-hard that i end up cutting it (kinda by accident) for the rest of the semester. the end of the semester comes, and i have FAILED math (duh, i never went nor did work)! then i either wake up or have a different dream.
here's the weird thing:
i really loved math in high school, and pretty much was always on time and did my work. especially when we were working on parametric equations, and our homework involved etch-a-sketch. sigh, i don't have a picture of my school-renowned etch-a-sketch sumo wrestler.
ok but let's dig a little deeper and figure out what was really wack about my school years....
i just realized how inappropriate mr. kenny was with several of us in 5th grade. this came to me as i was sitting in mr. harris' 3rd grade class (where i work), and little taylor asked me for my aim name.
"are we going to talk about homework?" -- me
"maybe. or we can talk about sudoku." -- tay
"let's do sudoku now, instead." -- me, as i whip out my sudoku book so that we can avoid further discussion of my aim name.
at least my name isn't something like "pimp1234," the name of a middle schooler whom i busted in the computer lab. really, pimp? like, hello 6th grade pimp.
anyway, back to bkenny.
we used to talk on the phone, about more than homework.
i used to write in my journal to him about my "real life" fifth grade drama, we talked about who was crushing on whom, what i thought about my parents, blah blah blah. weird. i think i'll go google him now.
i posted this a little late.
here's the weird thing:
i really loved math in high school, and pretty much was always on time and did my work. especially when we were working on parametric equations, and our homework involved etch-a-sketch. sigh, i don't have a picture of my school-renowned etch-a-sketch sumo wrestler.
ok but let's dig a little deeper and figure out what was really wack about my school years....
i just realized how inappropriate mr. kenny was with several of us in 5th grade. this came to me as i was sitting in mr. harris' 3rd grade class (where i work), and little taylor asked me for my aim name.
"are we going to talk about homework?" -- me
"maybe. or we can talk about sudoku." -- tay
"let's do sudoku now, instead." -- me, as i whip out my sudoku book so that we can avoid further discussion of my aim name.
at least my name isn't something like "pimp1234," the name of a middle schooler whom i busted in the computer lab. really, pimp? like, hello 6th grade pimp.
anyway, back to bkenny.
we used to talk on the phone, about more than homework.
i used to write in my journal to him about my "real life" fifth grade drama, we talked about who was crushing on whom, what i thought about my parents, blah blah blah. weird. i think i'll go google him now.
i posted this a little late.
Friday, January 06, 2006
pajoohi
had a weirdo dream last night:
someone from mka was getting married, and i was at the wedding. jillian was one of the bridesmaids. tara pajoohi was there in a red dress, and my mom was taking pictures of us. nora got in one of the pictures, and then i saw my reflection just for a second in something mirror-y, and noticed that my bangs were all sticking up like cameron diaz in theres something about mary, and i was like, "mom! why didnt you tell me my hair was sticking up!" and she said "i thought it looked funny, dear!" doug green was there too, but he actually talked to me. i think mark was there too. and just to clarify, i havent seen tara in say 7 years, and i never talk to doug or mark.
anyway, back to real life.
currently on rotation:
subdivisions rush
one caress depeche mode
you wouldnt like me tegan and sara
shout tears for fears
ok now i feel like baby bok and dumplings and then martha will be on (yay!).
then indulging in the new posts of ryry and hobag.
someone from mka was getting married, and i was at the wedding. jillian was one of the bridesmaids. tara pajoohi was there in a red dress, and my mom was taking pictures of us. nora got in one of the pictures, and then i saw my reflection just for a second in something mirror-y, and noticed that my bangs were all sticking up like cameron diaz in theres something about mary, and i was like, "mom! why didnt you tell me my hair was sticking up!" and she said "i thought it looked funny, dear!" doug green was there too, but he actually talked to me. i think mark was there too. and just to clarify, i havent seen tara in say 7 years, and i never talk to doug or mark.
anyway, back to real life.
currently on rotation:
subdivisions rush
one caress depeche mode
you wouldnt like me tegan and sara
shout tears for fears
ok now i feel like baby bok and dumplings and then martha will be on (yay!).
then indulging in the new posts of ryry and hobag.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
bye bye love
i love you, jason bateman.
i've loved you since the hogan family. maybe even since silver spoons.
here we are...
face to face
a couple of silver spoons
we're two of a kind
lookin to find....
i forget. but still, i love.
i've loved you since the hogan family. maybe even since silver spoons.
here we are...
face to face
a couple of silver spoons
we're two of a kind
lookin to find....
i forget. but still, i love.
hey little doggie
a funny tidbit about back home.
maybe they should stuff a real dog and put that up there.
maybe they should stuff a real dog and put that up there.
Monday, January 02, 2006
"you ever had one of these?" "i don't think so."
back to pretty in pink, i cannot get the gospel of john hughes out of my mind.
he could quite possibly be the most insightful man alive.
he created duckie: the andie-adoring, rolled-pant wearing, bicycle-riding, comfortably/offensively-awkward best friend.
this is where i learned what "strong lips" were, where i learned why readheads are not supposed to wear pink, where i learned about madonna's "great style," and that unrequited love is liveable, curable, surviveable, surpassable.
my heart pit-pats when i recall duckie's smooth moves.
have i ever had one of those?
i don't think so.
but i think it's about time!
he could quite possibly be the most insightful man alive.
he created duckie: the andie-adoring, rolled-pant wearing, bicycle-riding, comfortably/offensively-awkward best friend.
this is where i learned what "strong lips" were, where i learned why readheads are not supposed to wear pink, where i learned about madonna's "great style," and that unrequited love is liveable, curable, surviveable, surpassable.
my heart pit-pats when i recall duckie's smooth moves.
have i ever had one of those?
i don't think so.
but i think it's about time!
week end
on heavy rotation:
feel the pain dino jr
rock you like a hurricane scorps
neighborhood #3 arcade fire
stay gold, ponyboy get up kids
currently occupying my time:
watching the cat chase dust near the fridge
looking for the cheapest best humidifier/heater online
pondering the pros/cons of being a part time ssa at morton or full time at nfcs
reading all of my friends' blogs
finding ways to delay work (duh)
i have revived my old journal, diary, if you will. that means either: i am happy, i am sad, or i am confused (or i am hormonal, but im not supposed to admit that sort of thing).
ho bag's husbands or whatever came to visit for new year's and we hit up all-we-could-eat sushi on sunday, eating all we could. then we binged on scrubs season 2.
i guess after that, i freaked out and wrote that last post, and went to bed with jon cryer lip sync-ing to try a little tenderness, a pretty in pink scene that forever melts my stupid secretly mushy heart (don't tell, bitch). i woke up with kitty sleeping stretched out from my ankles to above my knees, and then proceeded to ignore my first 2 alarms cause he is so snuggly. anyway, cant delay work anymore. its raining, so i should get a move on.
pizzle.
feel the pain dino jr
rock you like a hurricane scorps
neighborhood #3 arcade fire
stay gold, ponyboy get up kids
currently occupying my time:
watching the cat chase dust near the fridge
looking for the cheapest best humidifier/heater online
pondering the pros/cons of being a part time ssa at morton or full time at nfcs
reading all of my friends' blogs
finding ways to delay work (duh)
i have revived my old journal, diary, if you will. that means either: i am happy, i am sad, or i am confused (or i am hormonal, but im not supposed to admit that sort of thing).
ho bag's husbands or whatever came to visit for new year's and we hit up all-we-could-eat sushi on sunday, eating all we could. then we binged on scrubs season 2.
i guess after that, i freaked out and wrote that last post, and went to bed with jon cryer lip sync-ing to try a little tenderness, a pretty in pink scene that forever melts my stupid secretly mushy heart (don't tell, bitch). i woke up with kitty sleeping stretched out from my ankles to above my knees, and then proceeded to ignore my first 2 alarms cause he is so snuggly. anyway, cant delay work anymore. its raining, so i should get a move on.
pizzle.
crazy late
i just want you to
ask the questions
and
have the interest
i dont want to be afraid to
be crazyme
in front of
crazyyou
did you ever wonder what i saw in all those crazy boys i seem to find? they were the right kind of crazy at the right time. and you are not. i miss my personal crazy, i miss matched obsession.
i hate you, me.
ask the questions
and
have the interest
i dont want to be afraid to
be crazyme
in front of
crazyyou
did you ever wonder what i saw in all those crazy boys i seem to find? they were the right kind of crazy at the right time. and you are not. i miss my personal crazy, i miss matched obsession.
i hate you, me.
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