That's how stuffed I am. Wündergirl and I ate tonight at The Last Supper Club at 23rd and Valencia. And sweet lord, was it delicious! I had a cocktail, an awesome glass of wine, crostini with tomatoes and basil, risotto balls stuffed with mozzerella, pork tenderloin with balsamic vinegar sauce, and tiramisu. I feel like it's Thanksgiving. I feel like I could enter a coma at any moment. I feel like hell. And yet, it was soooooooooo worth it.
Mushroom Man has officially disappeared. The weirdest part about this is that I'm not terribly sad. I'm mad, and my feelings are hurt, but sad? Not exactly. I feel deflated, to a certain extent. I have a hard time with the fact that someone I've considered a friend for so long has managed to discount my feelings so completely. But this is not the end of the world. And I'm not feeling damaged. Realistically, the past four months with him have been mostly fun, mostly a great time. So I'd consider the overall situation to have been successful. This is a first for me: walking away from something that's not "bad" simply because it isn't what I want. It feels good to raise my standards, to feel okay with that decision.
According to my friend, Bittersweet Bob, I'm "soft." I'm "sappy." I'm equal parts wonderful and weak, sweet and saccharine. Now, first of all, I have a really hard time with someone criticizing a fundamental aspect of my personality. I find it infuriating when someone who can't handle criticism tells me what's on their list of "what's wrong with Abbersnail." Secondly, when is it ever acceptable to say that to someone??? There's something about me that seems to scream, "Hey, you can say anything to me! Come on! Hit me with the inappropriate comments! Say the disgusting thing to me! Tell me about your revolting medical condition, the time you cheated on your current girlfriend, or the biggest zit you've ever had. I'd LUH-HOOOVE to hear all about it." Come on, world! Give me a break!!!
Another monumentally bad post, but whatever. Goodnight, all!
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Happiness!
It was a great weekend. Malia arrived on Thursday, and Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were nothing but fun. I finally met the gorgeous and wonderful-in-every-way Stacy, along with Jurgen and Matt! And let's not forget about great times spent with Don Q, camping, eating, and Golden-Gate-Bridge...ing. All three of them took gorgeous pictures, to which I will add links as soon as I figure out how best to do that. Ahem. And, as always, the weekend provided myriad Golden Nuggets Of The Spoken Word. A few highlights, you beg? Why, certainly!
I think a fox died in my mouth.
Would you care for a trypleberry muffin?
My hair looks like the apocalypse.
There are more, but those are the only ones I'm remembering at the moment. Because I rock like that. sigh.
In other news, my office has finally reopened after Fire Break 2007. It ended up being a delightful week off. Interestingly, we have now discovered that the fire was set intentionally by a crazy man who thought there were evil spirits in his bedroom. Awesome! Luckily, no one was hurt, and he's getting professional help now. And hey, I got a week off! So... HA! I was actually pretty anxious to get back to work all week, and now I feel like I've lost some major momentum. Yesterday I stared at my computer screen a bunch, and then read a lot of education materials. I think it'll take me a few days to get back in the groove. Eh. Such is life.
Lastly, have y'all seen this? Because... wow. That's really the only way to put it. Wow.
Happy Tuesday!
I think a fox died in my mouth.
Would you care for a trypleberry muffin?
My hair looks like the apocalypse.
There are more, but those are the only ones I'm remembering at the moment. Because I rock like that. sigh.
In other news, my office has finally reopened after Fire Break 2007. It ended up being a delightful week off. Interestingly, we have now discovered that the fire was set intentionally by a crazy man who thought there were evil spirits in his bedroom. Awesome! Luckily, no one was hurt, and he's getting professional help now. And hey, I got a week off! So... HA! I was actually pretty anxious to get back to work all week, and now I feel like I've lost some major momentum. Yesterday I stared at my computer screen a bunch, and then read a lot of education materials. I think it'll take me a few days to get back in the groove. Eh. Such is life.
Lastly, have y'all seen this? Because... wow. That's really the only way to put it. Wow.
Happy Tuesday!
Monday, March 12, 2007
Descriptions of Point Reyes
Yesterday I spent the day in Point Reyes with one of my all-time best friends, Biodude. We drove up to hopefully catch a glimpse of the migrating gray whales, and to enjoy the beautiful weather and the extra hour of daylight. I've spent 24 hours trying to construct a narrative that would accurately depict my impression of Point Reyes as my new Favorite Place On Earth, but to no avail. All I can come up with are these scattered impressions, which will probably make me sound like a pretentious lunatic, but whatever. It's my blog!
There's something about the air in Point Reyes. It's the scent of the Pacific mingling with dust and the indescribable aroma of sunshine. To inhale is like diving into a cool lake, a lake that is so clear that you can see the stones at the bottom. With each breath, I could feel my heartbeat slowing, my muscles loosening.
Sea lions! Nearly a hundred females and babies, their smooth, oblong bodies like so many gray and brown stones spread on the beach. And one gigantic male, like a slab of earth lying, immense, in the middle of his harem. Seen from far away, their movements were barely discernible, the occasional flip of a limb the only sign of life.
We hoped all day to see a whale, scanning the horizon as we hiked the coast trail, searching for a telltale puff of mist to signal a moving pod. On the rare instance that we passed other hikers, they would invariably tell us of the whale they'd just spotted, "closer than you'd think." As we sat on a cliff, silently staring at the endless spot where the ocean and the sky collide, we were both ready to go home. As we leaned down to pack our belongings, something made us both look up at a spot only about 50 feet away. At the burst of mist, we both shouted, standing completely still until the hulking dark shadow in the water was completely out of sight.
I sometimes think that I am the luckiest person in the universe. Not only because of my habit of finding the greatest-ever parking spot, nor because of the odd carnival games that I seem to win despite my lack of games-and-sports prowess, but also because I have some of the most amazing friends in the world. I think the definition of a great friendship is the ability to see one another for the first time in eight months, and then immediately spend a solid two hours staring at waves crashing on cliffs in complete and companionable silence. To trust someone enough that words are rendered unnecessary: that, to me, is love.
Is there anything as divine as the feeling of wet sand and icy ocean water on trail-worn feet? If there is, I dare you to find it.
We were at Point Reyes for six hours, maybe eight. And as we were walking back to the car, after an hour of climbing rocks on the beach, I looked at Biodude and said, "I feel like I've been on vacation for a week." He nodded. Then he said, "Next time, you should probably wear even more sunscreen."
There's something about the air in Point Reyes. It's the scent of the Pacific mingling with dust and the indescribable aroma of sunshine. To inhale is like diving into a cool lake, a lake that is so clear that you can see the stones at the bottom. With each breath, I could feel my heartbeat slowing, my muscles loosening.
Sea lions! Nearly a hundred females and babies, their smooth, oblong bodies like so many gray and brown stones spread on the beach. And one gigantic male, like a slab of earth lying, immense, in the middle of his harem. Seen from far away, their movements were barely discernible, the occasional flip of a limb the only sign of life.
We hoped all day to see a whale, scanning the horizon as we hiked the coast trail, searching for a telltale puff of mist to signal a moving pod. On the rare instance that we passed other hikers, they would invariably tell us of the whale they'd just spotted, "closer than you'd think." As we sat on a cliff, silently staring at the endless spot where the ocean and the sky collide, we were both ready to go home. As we leaned down to pack our belongings, something made us both look up at a spot only about 50 feet away. At the burst of mist, we both shouted, standing completely still until the hulking dark shadow in the water was completely out of sight.
I sometimes think that I am the luckiest person in the universe. Not only because of my habit of finding the greatest-ever parking spot, nor because of the odd carnival games that I seem to win despite my lack of games-and-sports prowess, but also because I have some of the most amazing friends in the world. I think the definition of a great friendship is the ability to see one another for the first time in eight months, and then immediately spend a solid two hours staring at waves crashing on cliffs in complete and companionable silence. To trust someone enough that words are rendered unnecessary: that, to me, is love.
Is there anything as divine as the feeling of wet sand and icy ocean water on trail-worn feet? If there is, I dare you to find it.
We were at Point Reyes for six hours, maybe eight. And as we were walking back to the car, after an hour of climbing rocks on the beach, I looked at Biodude and said, "I feel like I've been on vacation for a week." He nodded. Then he said, "Next time, you should probably wear even more sunscreen."
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Reason #249.7 That I Need A Social Network
I had two free tickets to a really cool show tonight. The show is a band whose members are from other bands that I like. (Does that sentence make sense? I've re-read it about six times, and I can't decide.) The show started 45 minutes ago, and I am at home. Why? Because after three days of asking everyone and their mother, no one could go. This is due, mostly, to the fact that I only have about five people living locally who would be interested in going to a show like this.
I need friends. I need local friends. If there were a match.com-type thing for friends, I would totally sign up for it. I'd be all over that website, I'd pay whatever exorbitant fee they were asking, because I need friends. How do you meet people after college? I know it'll happen, that it's only going to get better, but really... I'm lonely. Which sounds pathetic, because I am constantly busy. But this is the first time that I can think of when I haven't had a trusted group of people I could call for impromptu fun. This is the first time that I've eaten dinner alone night after night. This is the first time that I've reverted to eating cereal for dinner, because cooking for one just seems sad.
Does anyone have any suggestions here? I can't even believe that I have to ask this question, because friends have never been an issue for me. But I am at a loss. So, folks, what do you think? Suggestions would be most appreciated!
I need friends. I need local friends. If there were a match.com-type thing for friends, I would totally sign up for it. I'd be all over that website, I'd pay whatever exorbitant fee they were asking, because I need friends. How do you meet people after college? I know it'll happen, that it's only going to get better, but really... I'm lonely. Which sounds pathetic, because I am constantly busy. But this is the first time that I can think of when I haven't had a trusted group of people I could call for impromptu fun. This is the first time that I've eaten dinner alone night after night. This is the first time that I've reverted to eating cereal for dinner, because cooking for one just seems sad.
Does anyone have any suggestions here? I can't even believe that I have to ask this question, because friends have never been an issue for me. But I am at a loss. So, folks, what do you think? Suggestions would be most appreciated!
Friday, January 19, 2007
Unexpected happiness
Will Samson, I Heart You. I love my mail, yet again! Instead of the myriad pieces of junk and statements that I owe money, I received a CD of songs that make me smile. (And OH MY GOD. You found the Brak song. I canNOT believe you found the Brak song. Somebody left a cake out in the rain! OH NO!)
This is the best week of mail I've ever had. It reminds me of the years when I was a kid, waiting by the mailbox as soon as we heard the mail truck coming down the street. The mail was always like a mini-Christmas every day. The mail truck brought with it endless possibility: someone would write to me, sending me words of encouragement, understanding, or insight into my world. The mail has never completely lost its magic on me. I still wait open my mailbox with a sense of anticipation, hoping against hope that someone has sent me something, some small sign of the way in which their universe intersects with mine. Email, while wonderful and instantaneous, has never really held the same sway over my psyche. Sure, each day I hope for an email from one of you (and I am usually gratified at some point during my daily journey), but there's a certain feeling that is incited by the opening of an envelope. The feeling of touching something that you so recently touched is like a hug, something that I often wish I could give and receive from each and every one of you.
So to the emailers, the snailmailers, and the phonecallers, thank you for making my life an amazing place to be. J'adore vous. And, I should just mention, I don't speak French, so if that's wrong... sorry.
Mwah. <---- that's a kiss noise. Just so's you know.
This is the best week of mail I've ever had. It reminds me of the years when I was a kid, waiting by the mailbox as soon as we heard the mail truck coming down the street. The mail was always like a mini-Christmas every day. The mail truck brought with it endless possibility: someone would write to me, sending me words of encouragement, understanding, or insight into my world. The mail has never completely lost its magic on me. I still wait open my mailbox with a sense of anticipation, hoping against hope that someone has sent me something, some small sign of the way in which their universe intersects with mine. Email, while wonderful and instantaneous, has never really held the same sway over my psyche. Sure, each day I hope for an email from one of you (and I am usually gratified at some point during my daily journey), but there's a certain feeling that is incited by the opening of an envelope. The feeling of touching something that you so recently touched is like a hug, something that I often wish I could give and receive from each and every one of you.
So to the emailers, the snailmailers, and the phonecallers, thank you for making my life an amazing place to be. J'adore vous. And, I should just mention, I don't speak French, so if that's wrong... sorry.
Mwah. <---- that's a kiss noise. Just so's you know.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Friends and Miscellany
1. You have all been amazing this weekend. I've gotten so many phonecalls and text messages and emails. I've already written so many times that I love my friends, that you are the kind of people I aspire to become. So I'll just reiterate that (wait, I just did...), and say thanks. Because you are all wonderful beyond words.
2. Greatest song lyric EVER, on Somebody More Like You, by Nickel Creek song: I hope you find someone your height so you can see eye to eye with someone as small as you. Um, bitter much? But dude, you know you've wanted to say it before. And that's seriously the most eloquent and poetic way I've ever heard it said. So ten points to you, Nickel Creek.
3. Most shameful moment of music listening in... years...
I just downloaded a Justin Timberlake song. That's right, I have lost all of my hipster "street cred," if such a thing exists (or, frankly, if I even want it, whatever it may be). This outranks someone recently discovering that I have "Livin' La Vida Loca" on my iPod. As a joke. I swear.
crickets
In my defense, it's catchy, and shaking my booty around the house is as strenuous as my exercising is going to get until Gala is over. So there. Thou shalt not judge me for my supremely teeny-bopper music downloading confession.
4. So today I went to the grocery store again, just to pick up a few things that my usual market doesn't stock. I guess I was hungry, because I came home with the makings of pot roast, fried chicken, and chili. The catch here is that I purchased ingredients enough to feed a small nation, and I live with no one. So, does anyone want to come over for dinner this week? Because that'd be very helpful.
5. I need a haircut, which is going to have to wait until my tax return comes in. And that is going to take a while, seeing as I haven't even gotten my forms. So. Please pardon the woman walking around with a blonde bush on her head for the next few months.
6. Have I mentioned that I love my friends? Because I do.
2. Greatest song lyric EVER, on Somebody More Like You, by Nickel Creek song: I hope you find someone your height so you can see eye to eye with someone as small as you. Um, bitter much? But dude, you know you've wanted to say it before. And that's seriously the most eloquent and poetic way I've ever heard it said. So ten points to you, Nickel Creek.
3. Most shameful moment of music listening in... years...
I just downloaded a Justin Timberlake song. That's right, I have lost all of my hipster "street cred," if such a thing exists (or, frankly, if I even want it, whatever it may be). This outranks someone recently discovering that I have "Livin' La Vida Loca" on my iPod. As a joke. I swear.
crickets
In my defense, it's catchy, and shaking my booty around the house is as strenuous as my exercising is going to get until Gala is over. So there. Thou shalt not judge me for my supremely teeny-bopper music downloading confession.
4. So today I went to the grocery store again, just to pick up a few things that my usual market doesn't stock. I guess I was hungry, because I came home with the makings of pot roast, fried chicken, and chili. The catch here is that I purchased ingredients enough to feed a small nation, and I live with no one. So, does anyone want to come over for dinner this week? Because that'd be very helpful.
5. I need a haircut, which is going to have to wait until my tax return comes in. And that is going to take a while, seeing as I haven't even gotten my forms. So. Please pardon the woman walking around with a blonde bush on her head for the next few months.
6. Have I mentioned that I love my friends? Because I do.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Denial is a river in... England
In less than 24 hours, I will be living alone. Sis is leaving for Portsmouth at 4:45 pm today. I am trying desperately not to think about it, choosing instead to worry incessantly about things that don't matter. We've lived together for nearly a year, and I rely upon her presence at the beginnings and endings of my days. I love sitting together over our morning coffee, which we learned to fix together. I love watching the cats try to decide between her rice milk and my genuine dairy in the bottoms of our cereal bowls. I love being guaranteed that someone will get all of my jokes, and laugh at everything stupid I do, without judgement.
Realistically, I know that this is good for both of us. We tend to feed off of one another, comfortable in the relative isolation of our tiny apartment. An apartment which, in a few short hours, will feel cavernous. I am proud of her for taking such a brave step, moving to another country. I am inspired by this bold move, this leap of faith that she is choosing to make. I am just terrified of the void she will leave in my life.
I foresee many large phonebills in my future. I predict that I will be crying in my bathtub tomorrow at this time. The silence of my apartment will be deafening for a few weeks. And then life will simply adjust to feeling normal again, and we will learn to adapt.
To my best friend, safe travels. You are who I want to be when I grow up. I am so proud of you, and I will miss you with every bone in my body. And you better freaking come back and visit me!
Realistically, I know that this is good for both of us. We tend to feed off of one another, comfortable in the relative isolation of our tiny apartment. An apartment which, in a few short hours, will feel cavernous. I am proud of her for taking such a brave step, moving to another country. I am inspired by this bold move, this leap of faith that she is choosing to make. I am just terrified of the void she will leave in my life.
I foresee many large phonebills in my future. I predict that I will be crying in my bathtub tomorrow at this time. The silence of my apartment will be deafening for a few weeks. And then life will simply adjust to feeling normal again, and we will learn to adapt.
To my best friend, safe travels. You are who I want to be when I grow up. I am so proud of you, and I will miss you with every bone in my body. And you better freaking come back and visit me!
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
We didn't start the fire
This is not my story. This did not happen to me. But when you (you know who you are) called to tell me about it, I had to share it with the world. And stories are always best told in the first person. Also, since we just talked for about ten seconds, I am adding in details. Why? Because this is how I imagine it happening.
Ahem.
So, I was at this singles party. And I was having a really good time, talking to this cute boy. I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings, trying to make eye contact and look seductively through my eyelashes. I laughed at something he said, and leaned cutely against the wall behind me. Thirty seconds later, I smelled something funny. Cute boy looked up at me, his eyes widened, and he grabbed for the nearest curtain, throwing it over my head to quell the flames bursting forth from my hair. After he'd successfully put the fire out by smacking me in the head a few times, I finally noticed that I'd leaned into a menorah. It's alright, though. For the rest of the night I got to introduce myself to everyone as the hottest girl in the room.
To you, I grant limitless points. Ten just won't suffice. I don't think even 100 will do it. You have as many as you want.
Good work!
Ahem.
So, I was at this singles party. And I was having a really good time, talking to this cute boy. I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings, trying to make eye contact and look seductively through my eyelashes. I laughed at something he said, and leaned cutely against the wall behind me. Thirty seconds later, I smelled something funny. Cute boy looked up at me, his eyes widened, and he grabbed for the nearest curtain, throwing it over my head to quell the flames bursting forth from my hair. After he'd successfully put the fire out by smacking me in the head a few times, I finally noticed that I'd leaned into a menorah. It's alright, though. For the rest of the night I got to introduce myself to everyone as the hottest girl in the room.
To you, I grant limitless points. Ten just won't suffice. I don't think even 100 will do it. You have as many as you want.
Good work!
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Definition of Happiness
My weekend in Charlotte was pretty good.
There was lots of cleavage, lots of wine, lots of smiles, and lots of spooning.
Life is good.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
I love the Ferry Building
I left the house at 7:30 this morning. The cats decided that 6:30 was my wake-up call today, and for some reason I was incapable of returning to sleep. 7:30 seemed as good a time as any to leave, so I strapped on my trusty green trainers and headed to the Ferry Building.
When I first moved to San Fran, the Ferry Building is where I got the first of my four simultaneous jobs, which supported the Year From Hell. (If you've known me for any length of time, no explanation is needed. If you don't know what I'm talking about, I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say, the commencement of the Year From Hell is really what started the Existential Life Crisis, so we'll just leave it at that and move on.) Anyway, I sold organic produce at one of the shops inside. If you don't know the Ferry Building, let me tell you, it is a foodie's paradise. Each shop specializes in one particular type of food. There's Acme Bread, home of an amazing variety of artisan breads made fresh all day. My store, Capay Organic, sells beautiful produce. The Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant has both a lovely wine bar, as well as a full shop with some of the best customer service around. Cowgirl Creamery is also located in the Ferry Building, and I've spent many a dollar there.
I adore the Ferry Building. There is no better people watching in the city. Saturdays also feature the city's largest open air farmer's market, and I could literally spend hours sitting by the bay and watching the world go by. I always feel a rush of pleasure walking through the doors. There's a very particular smell to the building. I spent enough time there that it smells like home to me. I love the polished cement floors and the small square mosaics on each wall between the stores. I love the hand-painted signs above the shops. I love that, until recently, I still knew every person who worked the storefronts.
My favorite place to hang out is Far West Fungi. My friend Ian runs the store, and my friend Andy works for him. Andy was the first person I met at the Ferry Building. At that time, he sold chocolate. He was always so nice to me that when he changed shops and began working for Ian, I changed my allegiances, too. That's the definition of loyalty: trading chocolate for mushrooms! Ian has effectively created an addict of me, though. I yearn for April to arrive and bring morels back to the store. I dream of the scent of truffles. I love the textures and colors of the different things that come in around the year. These two guys are a blast to hang out with, so I make a point of parking behind the counter and harrassing them whenever possible.
So today, when I arrived and discovered that Far West was swamped, I did what any foodie/friend would do: I offered to help out. It was such a fun day! I loved being back in the world of "work" requiring me to be social, answer questions (Where's the bathroom? Where's the Slanted Door?), flirt with old men, and tell jokes to little kids. I loved getting gigantic hugs from everyone when I finally left. (Maybe they were just happy that I was finally leaving??? Who knows!) The Ferry Building is always so alive. So, while I am 100% exhausted right now, having effectively spent half my day there, one thing is for certain: I had a truly fantastic day! Thanks, guys!
When I first moved to San Fran, the Ferry Building is where I got the first of my four simultaneous jobs, which supported the Year From Hell. (If you've known me for any length of time, no explanation is needed. If you don't know what I'm talking about, I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say, the commencement of the Year From Hell is really what started the Existential Life Crisis, so we'll just leave it at that and move on.) Anyway, I sold organic produce at one of the shops inside. If you don't know the Ferry Building, let me tell you, it is a foodie's paradise. Each shop specializes in one particular type of food. There's Acme Bread, home of an amazing variety of artisan breads made fresh all day. My store, Capay Organic, sells beautiful produce. The Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant has both a lovely wine bar, as well as a full shop with some of the best customer service around. Cowgirl Creamery is also located in the Ferry Building, and I've spent many a dollar there.
I adore the Ferry Building. There is no better people watching in the city. Saturdays also feature the city's largest open air farmer's market, and I could literally spend hours sitting by the bay and watching the world go by. I always feel a rush of pleasure walking through the doors. There's a very particular smell to the building. I spent enough time there that it smells like home to me. I love the polished cement floors and the small square mosaics on each wall between the stores. I love the hand-painted signs above the shops. I love that, until recently, I still knew every person who worked the storefronts.
My favorite place to hang out is Far West Fungi. My friend Ian runs the store, and my friend Andy works for him. Andy was the first person I met at the Ferry Building. At that time, he sold chocolate. He was always so nice to me that when he changed shops and began working for Ian, I changed my allegiances, too. That's the definition of loyalty: trading chocolate for mushrooms! Ian has effectively created an addict of me, though. I yearn for April to arrive and bring morels back to the store. I dream of the scent of truffles. I love the textures and colors of the different things that come in around the year. These two guys are a blast to hang out with, so I make a point of parking behind the counter and harrassing them whenever possible.
So today, when I arrived and discovered that Far West was swamped, I did what any foodie/friend would do: I offered to help out. It was such a fun day! I loved being back in the world of "work" requiring me to be social, answer questions (Where's the bathroom? Where's the Slanted Door?), flirt with old men, and tell jokes to little kids. I loved getting gigantic hugs from everyone when I finally left. (Maybe they were just happy that I was finally leaving??? Who knows!) The Ferry Building is always so alive. So, while I am 100% exhausted right now, having effectively spent half my day there, one thing is for certain: I had a truly fantastic day! Thanks, guys!
Friday, November 24, 2006
Ode to Malia
Things I love about Maliavale:
1. Her use of nice, neat, declarative nouns to describe her mood. Happiness! Sadness! Confusion!
2. This card, which she gave me a bazillion years ago, and which I still adore and keep on my refrigerator.
3. The fact that we survived the tiniest apartment with the largest bugs in the world.
4. The fact that we survived one of said bugs being squished by someone (coughMark) and left on the uppermost part of her bedroom wall.
5. Squirt, the greatest beta ever!
6. Despite the fact that our year as roommates was arguably the bitchiest year of my life, she still talks to me. (Um, yeah. Sorry about that.)
7. Fling. Or The Speakeasies. Whatever their incarnation, I wouldn't have shared it with anyone else.
8. Being repeatedly left off the guest list of above band.
9. The first time she made my cheesy pasta, I love that she put in the whole block of cheese before shredding it. Then called to see why it wasn't melting.
10. She ate everything I ever made for her, even if it was god awful. Being my first year of cooking, most of it was. (Um, again with the "sorry about that" business.)
11. Stella, the cutest puppy ever!
12. Sophomore year Halloween! That costume! That hair! Still cracks me up.
13. I love that she always talks me down from the ledge when I'm having a meltdown about my job.
14. My papers were always immaculate when I lived with her. Ten points for living with a future copy editor!
15. Broken hearts are always best shared with friends.
16. Her amazing, brilliant, beautiful smile! It always makes me happy to see in pictures, old and new.
17. The faith she gives me in myself that one day I will be able to run far enough in one go to participate in a race.
18. How she reminds me what I actually liked about college.
19. Her love of silly kid jokes!
20. What's not to love?
Happy birthday to my former roommate and forever friend! When the hell did we get old? You inspire me every day, in every way! (Yay rhyming!)
1. Her use of nice, neat, declarative nouns to describe her mood. Happiness! Sadness! Confusion!
2. This card, which she gave me a bazillion years ago, and which I still adore and keep on my refrigerator.
3. The fact that we survived the tiniest apartment with the largest bugs in the world.
4. The fact that we survived one of said bugs being squished by someone (coughMark) and left on the uppermost part of her bedroom wall.
5. Squirt, the greatest beta ever!
6. Despite the fact that our year as roommates was arguably the bitchiest year of my life, she still talks to me. (Um, yeah. Sorry about that.)
7. Fling. Or The Speakeasies. Whatever their incarnation, I wouldn't have shared it with anyone else.
8. Being repeatedly left off the guest list of above band.
9. The first time she made my cheesy pasta, I love that she put in the whole block of cheese before shredding it. Then called to see why it wasn't melting.
10. She ate everything I ever made for her, even if it was god awful. Being my first year of cooking, most of it was. (Um, again with the "sorry about that" business.)
11. Stella, the cutest puppy ever!
12. Sophomore year Halloween! That costume! That hair! Still cracks me up.
13. I love that she always talks me down from the ledge when I'm having a meltdown about my job.
14. My papers were always immaculate when I lived with her. Ten points for living with a future copy editor!
15. Broken hearts are always best shared with friends.
16. Her amazing, brilliant, beautiful smile! It always makes me happy to see in pictures, old and new.
17. The faith she gives me in myself that one day I will be able to run far enough in one go to participate in a race.
18. How she reminds me what I actually liked about college.
19. Her love of silly kid jokes!
20. What's not to love?
Happy birthday to my former roommate and forever friend! When the hell did we get old? You inspire me every day, in every way! (Yay rhyming!)
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
By our powers combined...
I've been thinking about cartoons today. Don't lie, you know you still think about cartoons, too! I'm sure everyone thinks this about the shows they grew up with, but I remain convinced that we had the best cartoons when we were kids. In light of my confidence in this fact, and because I haven't done a list in a while (!), today's list is Cartoons That I Love And You Should, Too!
1. Looney Toons - Still crack me up. There's something so simple and silly and wonderful about them. And come on, the Bugs Bunny opera is just the greatest thing ever.
2. He-Man - The number one cartoon of my childhood. I have so many distinct memories of watching this show at my friend Robbie's house. For some reason, I also have a sensory memory of rice krispies treats that seems to accompany this. I'm not sure if that's accurate, or not.
3. She-Ra - Along the same lines as above. And does anyone else remember the episode where they met and discovered that they were brother and sister?
4. The Smurfs - I was never one of y'all who all seem disturbed by Smurfette being the only girl. Probably because I was usually the only girl in my group of friends.
5. Gummy Bears - All I can say is: Magic and mystery are part of their history, along with the secret of GUMMY BEARY JUICE!
6. Captain Planet - I still know every word to the theme song of this cartoon!
7. Duck Tales - Ah, Disney Channel, your magic held such sway over me.
8. Muppet Show - Although not a cartoon (so much better!), I will always associate this show with my childhood. And, like Looney Toons, it still cracks me up. A lot. (Will, you know what I'm talking about!)
The list is sure to get longer, but that's all I can think of at the moment. Leave me comments with your favorites!
1. Looney Toons - Still crack me up. There's something so simple and silly and wonderful about them. And come on, the Bugs Bunny opera is just the greatest thing ever.
2. He-Man - The number one cartoon of my childhood. I have so many distinct memories of watching this show at my friend Robbie's house. For some reason, I also have a sensory memory of rice krispies treats that seems to accompany this. I'm not sure if that's accurate, or not.
3. She-Ra - Along the same lines as above. And does anyone else remember the episode where they met and discovered that they were brother and sister?
4. The Smurfs - I was never one of y'all who all seem disturbed by Smurfette being the only girl. Probably because I was usually the only girl in my group of friends.
5. Gummy Bears - All I can say is: Magic and mystery are part of their history, along with the secret of GUMMY BEARY JUICE!
6. Captain Planet - I still know every word to the theme song of this cartoon!
7. Duck Tales - Ah, Disney Channel, your magic held such sway over me.
8. Muppet Show - Although not a cartoon (so much better!), I will always associate this show with my childhood. And, like Looney Toons, it still cracks me up. A lot. (Will, you know what I'm talking about!)
The list is sure to get longer, but that's all I can think of at the moment. Leave me comments with your favorites!
Monday, November 13, 2006
GMattB
This is one of my best friends in the whole, entire world. We grew up a few blocks from one another. Now he's a biologist, working with fish. It's really endless, the things I could say about him, but I'm tired, and this is my cop-out version of a post! More later...
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Sleep is good
I have never been a good sleeper. I sleep through the night, on average, once a month or so. Invariably, I wake up at least twice during the night, go to the bathroom, get a drink of water, and go back to sleep. When I'm stressed out, the "go back to sleep" part of that equation is less likely.
So, maybe it's the fact that I've done nothing really except sleep for the past two days. Or maybe it's the fact that the penicillin is killing the nastiness, and I just hadn't realized exactly how bad I was feeling (call me the eternal optimist). But this morning I feel like a bazillion dollars. I am not tired, my body is not creaky. Sure, I still woke up three times last night, but I actually slept really hard in between waking up. So hard, in fact, that I didn't wake up when I received three phonecalls (and voicemails) and two text messages. I'm not going to lie, that makes me feel a little bit like a superhero!
And, because the last two days have been sick days, I feel like I've already had my weekend. But hark! It is Saturday, and there are still two full days of lounging around. Um, and rehearsals and concerts, but whatever. OH! And Jeremiah is here, and I am so excited!
I can't wait to hang out with one of my close friends, someone who totally gets my short-hand speech and doesn't judge me when I (invariably) do something awkward or moronic. Hoorah!
Y'all, this is going to be a good day. I can feel it.
So, maybe it's the fact that I've done nothing really except sleep for the past two days. Or maybe it's the fact that the penicillin is killing the nastiness, and I just hadn't realized exactly how bad I was feeling (call me the eternal optimist). But this morning I feel like a bazillion dollars. I am not tired, my body is not creaky. Sure, I still woke up three times last night, but I actually slept really hard in between waking up. So hard, in fact, that I didn't wake up when I received three phonecalls (and voicemails) and two text messages. I'm not going to lie, that makes me feel a little bit like a superhero!
And, because the last two days have been sick days, I feel like I've already had my weekend. But hark! It is Saturday, and there are still two full days of lounging around. Um, and rehearsals and concerts, but whatever. OH! And Jeremiah is here, and I am so excited!
I can't wait to hang out with one of my close friends, someone who totally gets my short-hand speech and doesn't judge me when I (invariably) do something awkward or moronic. Hoorah!
Y'all, this is going to be a good day. I can feel it.
Friday, November 10, 2006
It's the cake that matters
Deep thoughts at work, ladies and jellybeans...
Friend: The thing is, I like almost everything about this guy. He's sweet, he's smart, he gets me...
Snail: Absolutely. There's just the lying issue.
Friend: Right. And I have to remember, the other stuff is just the icing on the cake. And the trust thing, that's the real stuff.
Snail: Definitely. After all, I always scrape the icing off my cake. It's the cake that matters.
Friend: Yeah, the cake matters. The cake is the important part.
Snail: That should be our new motto.
Friend: This is a pathetic conversation. And now I'm hungry.
Snail: Me, too.
Friend: The thing is, I like almost everything about this guy. He's sweet, he's smart, he gets me...
Snail: Absolutely. There's just the lying issue.
Friend: Right. And I have to remember, the other stuff is just the icing on the cake. And the trust thing, that's the real stuff.
Snail: Definitely. After all, I always scrape the icing off my cake. It's the cake that matters.
Friend: Yeah, the cake matters. The cake is the important part.
Snail: That should be our new motto.
Friend: This is a pathetic conversation. And now I'm hungry.
Snail: Me, too.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Things I love
I feel like I've been kind of a downer for the past few posts. Not that I've had a bad few days (they've been fantastic, truth be told), I just haven't said anything without the somewhat unfamiliar tinge of sarcasm. Chalk it up to tiredness and me feeling a little bit like "Billy Badass." In light of that, however, I am taking a moment to rhapsodize on the first 25 things that pop into my head that I absolutely, without question ADORE.
1. When I'm in good playing shape and in performance, when everything seems to work and I lose the world around me.
2. Perfect kisses.
3. The first burst of sunshine after days of gray.
4. Fires in the fireplace.
5. Laughing so hard that my stomach hurts for a solid hour afterwards.
6. The feeling of pride after baking a cake from scratch.
7. Waking up with the warmth of a cat on my feet.
8. Tangible people-smells. I'm not talking gross smells here, folks. I just mean distinct scents that people have, the kinds that will always remind me of someone particular.
9. The feeling I get when someone tells me I made their day be being nice to them.
10. Soft T-shirts. Sweet jebus, I can't get enough!
11. And cheese. Any kind of cheese, in any circumstance.
12. The dream of my own home.
13. Really, really cold chocolate ice cream. None of this halfway melting shit. I want to have to chew it!
14. Seeing my friends become parents. It's scary and astonishing and beautiful, all at the same time.
15. Feeling inspired by people I love. How is it that you are all doing such amazing things with your lives? I feel so far behind, but I'm so proud to know you!
16. Lavendar.
17. Mmmmm, backrubs. Sigh.
18. Mix CDs are definitely one of my favorite things in the whole world. Don't be fooled by the fact that they are number 18. I love love LOVE them.
19. Lying underneath the Christmas tree and staring up at the lights when the room is dark. I don't think I'll ever get tired of this.
20. Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, by Ralph Vaughn Williams.
21. Great big bear hugs, the kind that wrap you up and make you feel like you're protected from everything bad in the world.
22. Memories of my high school UU youth group. I don't think I've ever felt that safe.
23. Spaghetti. I swear, I've eaten spaghetti at least once a week for my entire life, and I NEVER get sick of it.
24. Fresh flowers in my apartment. I miss having a garden at home, and flowers make me feel like I'll have a garden again someday.
25. The message that my Grandmom and Granddad left on our answering machine this weekend. I will save it forever. It's just the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
1. When I'm in good playing shape and in performance, when everything seems to work and I lose the world around me.
2. Perfect kisses.
3. The first burst of sunshine after days of gray.
4. Fires in the fireplace.
5. Laughing so hard that my stomach hurts for a solid hour afterwards.
6. The feeling of pride after baking a cake from scratch.
7. Waking up with the warmth of a cat on my feet.
8. Tangible people-smells. I'm not talking gross smells here, folks. I just mean distinct scents that people have, the kinds that will always remind me of someone particular.
9. The feeling I get when someone tells me I made their day be being nice to them.
10. Soft T-shirts. Sweet jebus, I can't get enough!
11. And cheese. Any kind of cheese, in any circumstance.
12. The dream of my own home.
13. Really, really cold chocolate ice cream. None of this halfway melting shit. I want to have to chew it!
14. Seeing my friends become parents. It's scary and astonishing and beautiful, all at the same time.
15. Feeling inspired by people I love. How is it that you are all doing such amazing things with your lives? I feel so far behind, but I'm so proud to know you!
16. Lavendar.
17. Mmmmm, backrubs. Sigh.
18. Mix CDs are definitely one of my favorite things in the whole world. Don't be fooled by the fact that they are number 18. I love love LOVE them.
19. Lying underneath the Christmas tree and staring up at the lights when the room is dark. I don't think I'll ever get tired of this.
20. Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, by Ralph Vaughn Williams.
21. Great big bear hugs, the kind that wrap you up and make you feel like you're protected from everything bad in the world.
22. Memories of my high school UU youth group. I don't think I've ever felt that safe.
23. Spaghetti. I swear, I've eaten spaghetti at least once a week for my entire life, and I NEVER get sick of it.
24. Fresh flowers in my apartment. I miss having a garden at home, and flowers make me feel like I'll have a garden again someday.
25. The message that my Grandmom and Granddad left on our answering machine this weekend. I will save it forever. It's just the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
Friday, October 20, 2006
A love letter to all y'all
Yesterday I made a new friend. The kind of new friend that I can just tell is going to be a friend for a long time. I'm not sure what it is that lets us know, without a doubt, that someone is supposed to be a part of our lives, but I love that feeling. Maybe I put too much stock in the instinct of friendship, but it has yet to lead me astray. It's almost instantaneous, this knowlege, and it always takes my breath away a little bit. Those of you reading my blog (the ones who know me, at any rate) might be interested in knowing that I've felt some degree of that for each of you. I have distinct memories of each time it happens, this stunning realization that I am seeing a piece of myself reflected back from your eyes. In my post from a few days ago, I made some self-righteous comment about not needing a "soul mate." The preposterous thing about this claim is that I feel so complete when I think of my friends. You are all companions for different bits of my soul. I feel like I can rely on you for advice, that I could call you at any crisis and trust your wisdom to pull me out. I don't reflect often enough upon how completely lucky I am to have so many of you who are precious to me. You may be spread all across the country (and around the world), but you are the kind of friends that I can see once in three years and pick up from where we left off. So, last night, meeting someone who may join your ranks, I could only feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Thank you to each and every one of you for making my life better every single day.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Somebody's In-between Girl
First order of business for the day:
Congratulations to Will for the job offer! I am SO proud of you, and I am really excited to hear about your new pet insurance. Watch out, world!
Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.
The Existential Life Crisis has been roaring in full force for the past few days. I have never been an indecisive person. True, I don't trust my gut as much as I should, but I've generally run into my mistakes at full speed, realizing only months later the sheer stupidity of my actions. Recently, however, I feel paralyzed by the simplest of choices. Should I cancel my gym membership or keep it? Should I move into a cheaper apartment when my sister moves out? What do I want out of the wonderful world of dating? Am I doing the right thing by keeping a "day job," rather than playing full-time? Has the last year-plus of my life been one gigantic mistake? What color should I paint my toenails? Okay, so not so much on the last one, but the others are true. I feel like most of us are going through this right now. What is it about age 25 that seems to prompt this identity crisis? And why does it seem unique to our generation?
When my father turned 30, he had a major ELC. He quit his job as a high school band director, went home, and told my mom over plates of spaghetti that he was going to become an insurance salesman. He could work from home and make way more money in way less time. The only problem was this: My dad hates selling stuff. He'd sit in the basement for hours every day, staring at the phone. One day my mom got him to 'fess up that he hadn't made a single phone call. They moved to Blacksburg and entered graduate school a few months later. That decision led directly to my dad getting his current job (as, yes, a band director again), so I suppose the ELC had eventual positive ramifications. At least, I hope that's the lesson to be learned here.
The mid-twenties are, by their nature, an age of instability for most of us. Getting out of the fishbowl of school forces us out of every comfort zone we've ever known. We suddenly have to find ways of making friends without the convenience of sharing a major interest with everyone we see daily. Rather than being surrounded be people within a five-year age range, suddenly we're stuck with the label "adult." It's a word I tiptoe around like a colicky baby that's finally asleep; if I disturb it, I'll suddenly be forced to face reality and deal with my own discomfort. While the hurricane that has been plowing down my personal life for the past year seems to be subsiding (Please, not the eye of the storm. I've had enough.), I still feel my boat rocking, threatening to capsize at any minute.
I definitely used waaaaaay too many metaphors in that last paragraph, didn't I?
When I was a kid, I hated shopping. I still refuse to go clothing shopping with my mom. Why? Because, according to her, I am permanently "in between sizes." Clearly, we are all overly sensitive to our mothers' criticism of our bodies, but her analysis always makes me feel that there is something fundamentally wrong with me. And right now, I feel like my life is in between sizes. I'm not sure if this is just some kind of adolescent stage, where my life needs to grow into its feet (if that makes any sense), or if I just have to learn how to alter the world around me the way I alter my clothes.
I feel like this is my most convoluted post ever. I'm not really expecting any responses from the greater world, but does anyone else feel this way? Are there any good answers out there?
Congratulations to Will for the job offer! I am SO proud of you, and I am really excited to hear about your new pet insurance. Watch out, world!
Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.
The Existential Life Crisis has been roaring in full force for the past few days. I have never been an indecisive person. True, I don't trust my gut as much as I should, but I've generally run into my mistakes at full speed, realizing only months later the sheer stupidity of my actions. Recently, however, I feel paralyzed by the simplest of choices. Should I cancel my gym membership or keep it? Should I move into a cheaper apartment when my sister moves out? What do I want out of the wonderful world of dating? Am I doing the right thing by keeping a "day job," rather than playing full-time? Has the last year-plus of my life been one gigantic mistake? What color should I paint my toenails? Okay, so not so much on the last one, but the others are true. I feel like most of us are going through this right now. What is it about age 25 that seems to prompt this identity crisis? And why does it seem unique to our generation?
When my father turned 30, he had a major ELC. He quit his job as a high school band director, went home, and told my mom over plates of spaghetti that he was going to become an insurance salesman. He could work from home and make way more money in way less time. The only problem was this: My dad hates selling stuff. He'd sit in the basement for hours every day, staring at the phone. One day my mom got him to 'fess up that he hadn't made a single phone call. They moved to Blacksburg and entered graduate school a few months later. That decision led directly to my dad getting his current job (as, yes, a band director again), so I suppose the ELC had eventual positive ramifications. At least, I hope that's the lesson to be learned here.
The mid-twenties are, by their nature, an age of instability for most of us. Getting out of the fishbowl of school forces us out of every comfort zone we've ever known. We suddenly have to find ways of making friends without the convenience of sharing a major interest with everyone we see daily. Rather than being surrounded be people within a five-year age range, suddenly we're stuck with the label "adult." It's a word I tiptoe around like a colicky baby that's finally asleep; if I disturb it, I'll suddenly be forced to face reality and deal with my own discomfort. While the hurricane that has been plowing down my personal life for the past year seems to be subsiding (Please, not the eye of the storm. I've had enough.), I still feel my boat rocking, threatening to capsize at any minute.
I definitely used waaaaaay too many metaphors in that last paragraph, didn't I?
When I was a kid, I hated shopping. I still refuse to go clothing shopping with my mom. Why? Because, according to her, I am permanently "in between sizes." Clearly, we are all overly sensitive to our mothers' criticism of our bodies, but her analysis always makes me feel that there is something fundamentally wrong with me. And right now, I feel like my life is in between sizes. I'm not sure if this is just some kind of adolescent stage, where my life needs to grow into its feet (if that makes any sense), or if I just have to learn how to alter the world around me the way I alter my clothes.
I feel like this is my most convoluted post ever. I'm not really expecting any responses from the greater world, but does anyone else feel this way? Are there any good answers out there?
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Instructions
I think we should each come with a manual. I believe a booklet of helpful hints would seriously reduce awkward situations, embarrassment, and sometimes even major trauma. So, in an effort to encourage this habit, I am submitting phase one of the Abbersnail Model 2006 Manual:
1. I am nice. I am not thinking mean things about you and simply pretending to be nice. I am just nice. End of story.
2. Along those lines, I am having a good time. I really do enjoy casual conversation with strangers. My dad and my granddad passed that "gift" on to me.
3. I laugh a lot. Loudly. If you can't handle that, we might as well stop right now.
4. I am a relatively niave person. I frequently don't pick up on sexual jokes on the first try. Many of my friends find it endearing, but you may not. That's fine with me, because it annoys me that I miss them, too.
5. If you suggest an athletic activity for an early-on get-together, I will not be excited. I am a truly horrifying athlete, and I don't really want you to like me less just because I suck at sports. And games. All games and sports, really. After we've established that we really are friends, then you can ask me to mortify myself in the name of sports.
6. I'm a good friend. I'll make you soup when you're sick, I'll call you and tell you a funny story the moment it occurs. If you've had a terrible day, I'll do something completely ridiculous to attempt to brighten it.
7. I like to notice details about the world. I don't rush through things. I also don't rush into things.
8. Despite many, many years of dance training, I fall down a lot. Please see number five.
9. Whatever I say, please take it at face value. I don't play the game of hidden meanings.
10. I detest lying. I love good storytelling.
11. I am truly, seriously, genuinely low-maintenance. Unless there's a really good reason, I will not get upset if you don't call/email/show up in a timely fashion. I appreciate punctual people, but I don't demand them.
12. I almost NEVER get mad.
13. Gifts make me feel awkward. I'd have to be incredibly comfortable with you to feel okay about receiving a gift. Unless it is a mix CD, in which case I'd be completely gobsmacked. In a good way.
14. My main source of humor is me. Your main source of humor should not be me. I can deal with teasing, but...(See 15)
15. I am sensitive. Please be nice. Please reflect on numbers one, four, six, and nine.
16. If we are walking anywhere and there is a dog, I will have to "say hello." It's a compulsion, I can't control it. Sorry.
17. PLEASE do not make fun of my walk. It is the thing about which I am the most self-conscious. I know it's unique, I've tried to change it, and it makes me feel like I'm in high school when you make fun of it.
18. I will celebrate your birthday every year. I will bake you a cake from scratch and make your favorite dinner.
19. I will not continue as your friend (or otherwise) if you are mean to the waiter. A nice person is not mean to the waiter.
20. I love it when boys open the door for me. This does not make me anti-feminist, it makes me Southern.
21. Soft t-shirts are something of an obsession. Soft anything, to be perfectly honest. If ever we end up in a clothing store, I will touch everything. As such, I will do my utmost to never make you go shopping with me.
22. I know I'm short. Starting a conversation with, "Wow, you're short," is not a way to impress me with your powers of observation.
23. I feel out-of-place in trendy bars. I'm very happy to grab a beer, sit at a picnic table, and talk about whatever. Or, frankly, sit in silence and just enjoy the sun/stars/music/whatever.
24. I'm a big fan of privacy. Occasionally, I like to unplug from the world and go into hiding. Please don't take it personally. It's a major flaw of my character, and I'm working on it. Feel free to call me on it, but please, be kind.
25. I do not like horror movies. They scare the ever loving crap out of me. I will dream about them until the end of my life. Do yourself a favor and accept that RIGHT NOW.
26. I have a really crazy imagination. I'll frequently imagine a scenario that I wished had gone differently, and set about correcting it in my mind. Sometimes I start carrying on conversations out loud, when they should just be happening in my head. Whoops.
27. I love cooking for others. Everyone says that, but any of my college/grad school friends will tell you that it's really true.
28. I have a southern accent sometimes. It comes and goes, but if you think it makes me sound dumb, we should move on right now.
29. By the same token, I don't like being treated like I'm dumb. I do stupid crap sometimes. I'll be the first to laugh about it when I do stupid crap. But please don't treat me like I'm a moron.
30. Most of my friends are guys. I have been told frequently that I'm a "guy's girl." I really feel like many items on this list are a direct result of most of my friends being guys.
31. Once we're friends, I'll go to the end of the earth to make your life better.
32. I know this list makes me sound like I have an over-inflated sense of self-importance. But really, what's a blog for?
33. Um, hi. That was a joke.
1. I am nice. I am not thinking mean things about you and simply pretending to be nice. I am just nice. End of story.
2. Along those lines, I am having a good time. I really do enjoy casual conversation with strangers. My dad and my granddad passed that "gift" on to me.
3. I laugh a lot. Loudly. If you can't handle that, we might as well stop right now.
4. I am a relatively niave person. I frequently don't pick up on sexual jokes on the first try. Many of my friends find it endearing, but you may not. That's fine with me, because it annoys me that I miss them, too.
5. If you suggest an athletic activity for an early-on get-together, I will not be excited. I am a truly horrifying athlete, and I don't really want you to like me less just because I suck at sports. And games. All games and sports, really. After we've established that we really are friends, then you can ask me to mortify myself in the name of sports.
6. I'm a good friend. I'll make you soup when you're sick, I'll call you and tell you a funny story the moment it occurs. If you've had a terrible day, I'll do something completely ridiculous to attempt to brighten it.
7. I like to notice details about the world. I don't rush through things. I also don't rush into things.
8. Despite many, many years of dance training, I fall down a lot. Please see number five.
9. Whatever I say, please take it at face value. I don't play the game of hidden meanings.
10. I detest lying. I love good storytelling.
11. I am truly, seriously, genuinely low-maintenance. Unless there's a really good reason, I will not get upset if you don't call/email/show up in a timely fashion. I appreciate punctual people, but I don't demand them.
12. I almost NEVER get mad.
13. Gifts make me feel awkward. I'd have to be incredibly comfortable with you to feel okay about receiving a gift. Unless it is a mix CD, in which case I'd be completely gobsmacked. In a good way.
14. My main source of humor is me. Your main source of humor should not be me. I can deal with teasing, but...(See 15)
15. I am sensitive. Please be nice. Please reflect on numbers one, four, six, and nine.
16. If we are walking anywhere and there is a dog, I will have to "say hello." It's a compulsion, I can't control it. Sorry.
17. PLEASE do not make fun of my walk. It is the thing about which I am the most self-conscious. I know it's unique, I've tried to change it, and it makes me feel like I'm in high school when you make fun of it.
18. I will celebrate your birthday every year. I will bake you a cake from scratch and make your favorite dinner.
19. I will not continue as your friend (or otherwise) if you are mean to the waiter. A nice person is not mean to the waiter.
20. I love it when boys open the door for me. This does not make me anti-feminist, it makes me Southern.
21. Soft t-shirts are something of an obsession. Soft anything, to be perfectly honest. If ever we end up in a clothing store, I will touch everything. As such, I will do my utmost to never make you go shopping with me.
22. I know I'm short. Starting a conversation with, "Wow, you're short," is not a way to impress me with your powers of observation.
23. I feel out-of-place in trendy bars. I'm very happy to grab a beer, sit at a picnic table, and talk about whatever. Or, frankly, sit in silence and just enjoy the sun/stars/music/whatever.
24. I'm a big fan of privacy. Occasionally, I like to unplug from the world and go into hiding. Please don't take it personally. It's a major flaw of my character, and I'm working on it. Feel free to call me on it, but please, be kind.
25. I do not like horror movies. They scare the ever loving crap out of me. I will dream about them until the end of my life. Do yourself a favor and accept that RIGHT NOW.
26. I have a really crazy imagination. I'll frequently imagine a scenario that I wished had gone differently, and set about correcting it in my mind. Sometimes I start carrying on conversations out loud, when they should just be happening in my head. Whoops.
27. I love cooking for others. Everyone says that, but any of my college/grad school friends will tell you that it's really true.
28. I have a southern accent sometimes. It comes and goes, but if you think it makes me sound dumb, we should move on right now.
29. By the same token, I don't like being treated like I'm dumb. I do stupid crap sometimes. I'll be the first to laugh about it when I do stupid crap. But please don't treat me like I'm a moron.
30. Most of my friends are guys. I have been told frequently that I'm a "guy's girl." I really feel like many items on this list are a direct result of most of my friends being guys.
31. Once we're friends, I'll go to the end of the earth to make your life better.
32. I know this list makes me sound like I have an over-inflated sense of self-importance. But really, what's a blog for?
33. Um, hi. That was a joke.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Page 153
The other night I received a phone call from my two best friends of all time, Nick and Matt. We grew up a few blocks away from each other, and have been friends for over a decade. Until recently, both of them still lived in our hometown, so I see them pretty frequently. A few months ago, however, Matt accepted a job working in D.C. This has obviously prompted months of moving, sorting through boxes, and finding all kinds of shit that probably never needed to see the light of day.
Case in point: Our high school freshman yearbook.
The phone rings, the caller ID says "Matt," and I pick it up by saying something witty, like "Hey asshole." They don't call me eloquent for nothing! Surprisingly, Nick's voice comes booming over the phone with "You are such a NERD," followed by hysterical laughter. Matt follows with, "We're looking at yearbooks." I immediately quip, "Hey, I remember two guys who had bowl haircuts with center parts!" Well, now I've done it. They bring up my high school boyfriend (shudder), I bring up the girl they both made out with junior year on separate band trips. Finally, all possible insults exhausted (and all of us laughing harder than I've laughed in a loooong time), Nick says, "So, would you like to know why you're a nerd?"
Now, dear reader, I have never denied being a nerd. But here's the thing: these two have seen almost every embarrassing moment in my life, including the most humiliating thing I've ever done. More on that another day. These two also profess to be nerds. So clearly this is something beyond normal nerdiness, and I am, frankly, a little nervous. But hey, you only live once, right?
"Sure," I say, "Tell me why I'm a nerd."
"So we're looking at the comments in Matt's yearbook, and we found you. And you wrote, 'Matt, have a great summer, something about band camp, blah blah blah, love, abbersnail's full name with middle initial, page 153.'"
Matt chimes, "Abs, what do you think is on page 153?"
I am already laughing. "I don't know. Hopefully not something like me in my marching band uniform?"
Nick is beside himself. He can barely form words, but he manages to say, "Your CLASS PICTURE."
Okay, so now I'm laughing my ass off. And, might I add, I'm driving home from San Carlos in the dark. My car is swerving all over traffic. I'm usually a pretty good driver/talker, but all bets are off when Matt and Nick are involved. (Actually, there are about fifteen great stories about that, too. I really could just write this blog about my childhood and take up years of your lives.)
Even now, days later, I still laugh when I think of the two of them reading that note. The thing is, I remember myself at that age, and I'm sure my thought process was this: Just in case you forget who I am, just in case I think we're better friends than you think we are, now you have to remember. It's a little sad, and so typical of girls that age. It also reminds me how lucky I really am, to have these two people in my life to this day. Really, how many of us stay so close with people who knew us before puberty? (Maybe this is fortunate? Remembering some of the stories I'd like to share, I realize that perhaps it would be better if no one else remembered them, too!)
Regardless of all of that, I think back to page 153, and my response to the "class picture" comment:
"Yeah, well, in that class picture I seem to remember wearing a plaid vest and Lion King earrings."
Case in point: Our high school freshman yearbook.
The phone rings, the caller ID says "Matt," and I pick it up by saying something witty, like "Hey asshole." They don't call me eloquent for nothing! Surprisingly, Nick's voice comes booming over the phone with "You are such a NERD," followed by hysterical laughter. Matt follows with, "We're looking at yearbooks." I immediately quip, "Hey, I remember two guys who had bowl haircuts with center parts!" Well, now I've done it. They bring up my high school boyfriend (shudder), I bring up the girl they both made out with junior year on separate band trips. Finally, all possible insults exhausted (and all of us laughing harder than I've laughed in a loooong time), Nick says, "So, would you like to know why you're a nerd?"
Now, dear reader, I have never denied being a nerd. But here's the thing: these two have seen almost every embarrassing moment in my life, including the most humiliating thing I've ever done. More on that another day. These two also profess to be nerds. So clearly this is something beyond normal nerdiness, and I am, frankly, a little nervous. But hey, you only live once, right?
"Sure," I say, "Tell me why I'm a nerd."
"So we're looking at the comments in Matt's yearbook, and we found you. And you wrote, 'Matt, have a great summer, something about band camp, blah blah blah, love, abbersnail's full name with middle initial, page 153.'"
Matt chimes, "Abs, what do you think is on page 153?"
I am already laughing. "I don't know. Hopefully not something like me in my marching band uniform?"
Nick is beside himself. He can barely form words, but he manages to say, "Your CLASS PICTURE."
Okay, so now I'm laughing my ass off. And, might I add, I'm driving home from San Carlos in the dark. My car is swerving all over traffic. I'm usually a pretty good driver/talker, but all bets are off when Matt and Nick are involved. (Actually, there are about fifteen great stories about that, too. I really could just write this blog about my childhood and take up years of your lives.)
Even now, days later, I still laugh when I think of the two of them reading that note. The thing is, I remember myself at that age, and I'm sure my thought process was this: Just in case you forget who I am, just in case I think we're better friends than you think we are, now you have to remember. It's a little sad, and so typical of girls that age. It also reminds me how lucky I really am, to have these two people in my life to this day. Really, how many of us stay so close with people who knew us before puberty? (Maybe this is fortunate? Remembering some of the stories I'd like to share, I realize that perhaps it would be better if no one else remembered them, too!)
Regardless of all of that, I think back to page 153, and my response to the "class picture" comment:
"Yeah, well, in that class picture I seem to remember wearing a plaid vest and Lion King earrings."
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