The Best, the Most Basic, the Most Beautiful - 2007-2011

A week or two ago, I decided to check what my Facebook profile would look like if viewed by someone who wasn't friends with me. I was shocked to realize that many, though not all, of the Facebook notes I posted between 2007 and 2011 were actually visible to the public. As there's no way to mass-update note privacy, I've spent some time going through and individually switching them. Which led to reading through a lot of them, and copying my favorite entries.

Here's the list I'd like to share with you. Things that made me laugh, things that still resonate, things that perfectly captured an era of my life. If you didn't know me then, this will give you a good idea of who I was.

My Family

Mollie: Ash said I was the most gangsta one on the geology trip.

Me: That's quite an accomplishment!

Dad: What's gang...sta?

Me: Especially considering the stock you come from.

(Mom accidentally whacks TV screen with remote while Mol & I are watching Jesus Christ Superstar)
Mollie: Mom! You just hit Jesus!
Me: Way to kill Jesus. First with your sins, then with the remote control.

Dad (on the musical "Rent"): I just thought "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolored Dreamcoat" was a lot easier to follow.
Mom: I KNEW we should have gotten you that gay Bible...

While they have no relation to my nephews at all, I think I shall call them D and H. Most of their interactions are in the form of D calmly and apathetically performing tasks that H wanted to do, and then looking on calmly and apathetically as H simultaneously endures all nine circles of hell.
While playing Uno:
H: D, I WANTED TO DEAL THE CARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
D: Oh, did you? It's just that I deal faster.
While playing Mad Libs:
H: D, I WANTED TO WRITE THAT VERB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
D: Oh, did you? It's just that I have better handwriting.
While doing nothing at all:
H: D, I WANTED TO CLOSE THE REFRIGERATOR DOOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
D: Oh, did you? It's just that my arm got there first.

One of My Funniest Writings IMO

(context - I'd just started a new high school and my mom wanted to know if I'd managed to make it through the day/carpool without making a complete idiot of myself socially)

"How was the drive? Did you find things to talk about?"

I wasn't sure what the best answer I could give to that question was. Then I remembered the one thing that Amy and I had, in fact, had in common.

"Well, we're both in French class, and-"

Here my mom cut me off excitedly. "Did you tell her that your aunt SPEAKS French???"

I felt like I had failed somehow. Granted, for some reason I'd never really asked about my aunts' linguistic abilities, but I had had no idea that my aunt spoke French. I didn't even really know which aunt she was talking about, but since Aunt Gale had moved to England, which is kind of like France, I assumed she was the one.

"No," I replied.

My mother rolled her eyes and gave me one of those longsuffering parenting expressions as if she had just found out that I had emptied her entire bank account and spent it on Pez. "You don't know HOW to make conversation!" she exclaimed.

I was kind of hurt. But, my mom was right, I was pretty socially awkward. The thing was, I didn't see how mentioning that my aunt spoke French really belonged in that conversation or would have made things any less awkward. I played out the hypothetical conversation in my mind:

HYPOTHETICAL CONVERSATION A

Amy: So did you pick Spanish or French?

Me: French.

Amy: Me too. Nice teacher, fewer projects.

Me: My aunt SPEAKS French!

Amy: ...Ah... cool. What lunch period are you in?

Me: Sixth.

Amy: I'm in fifth.

Me: My mom was BORN on the fifth!!!

(Moment of uncomfortable silence while Amy tries to determine whether or not she really is chauffeuring Dustin Hoffman's character from Rain Man)

Me: KMart sucks.

(Amy engages child lock in case I try to jump out of the car and chase birds)

Me (clamping my hands over my ears and rocking back and forth): SCARY NOISE! SCARY NOISE!

But, you know, my mom really seemed to be basing my entire conversational capacity on me bringing up this one loosely related and previously unknown tidbit about myself, so maybe she was onto something. Maybe the conversation would have gone more like this:

HYPOTHETICAL CONVERSATION B

Amy: So, did you pick Spanish or French?

Me: French.

Amy: Me too. Nice teacher, fewer projects.

Me: My aunt SPEAKS French!

Amy: Y- WHAt???? Like, seriously, your aunt? Like, your own mother's sister kind of thing????

Me: My dad's sister, actually.

Amy: THAT'S SOMEHOW EVEN COOLER!!! Oh man. Oh my gosh, this is probably being too forward and I know you've probably made lots of friends in your own class but... doyouthinkyoucouldsitatmylunchtablesoIcanbeseenwithyou?

Me: I'd love to, Amy, but don't you remember hypothetical conversation A? We're not in the same lunch hour.

Amy: Oh right! (slaps self in forehead) Stupid, stupid, stupid...

Me: Ten o'clock and two o'clock, Amy! Don't get us killed!

Amy: Oh golly! I'm so sorry. I mean, je suis desolee, as your aunt would say. (giggle)

I Judge, But Then I Become

The people who see 30 Seconds to Mars are mainly large, scary, intoxicated women who want to see and/or illegally videotape and/or molest Jared Leto and get really mad when other people push into them, invading their personal space and threatening the welfare of their smuggled cameras. I actually think I prefer the Disturbed crowd but still... I got to caress Jared's skinny arm when he leaned into the crowd. His skin was surprisingly cool.

Still So True

The things that you say carelessly have an amazing way of coming back to hurt you. Sometimes I feel like every word that comes out of my mouth is strengthening my greatest enemy. I picture them attaching to the stupid words I've said before until all the little particles take form like in that Michael Crichton book Prey. I'm guessing someday we will have to have a showdown. I'm not sure how to prepare myself to battle my own stupidity. Maybe that's what my dad's doing when he plays Scrabble against himself.

This Happened Often with Cirena

And, unlike usual, hanging out with me did not give Cirena a migraine. We thought she was getting one for a little bit, but it turned out to just be some glitter.

Deep Conversations with Corinne

Corinne: BLEASFEFHEOFIDvDSOFDIFH
Me: Good God, you sound like Donald Duck being sucked into a blender.
Corinne: efIO: EFEWGO EGOIPG
Jen: That one didn't sound very much like Donald Duck.
Corinne: No, that was a raptor being sucked into a blender. A very small raptor. Blender-sized.
Me: ...convenient...
Corinne: All raptors can be blender-sized, eventually.
Me: Well, yeah, if you believe that they evolved into birds.
Corinne: No, if you CUT THEM UP INTO BITS!
Me: You should not be allowed to work with children.
Corinne (cackles): Blender-sized children...

Me, to the cat: You don't deserve food, but I'm going to give you food anyway.
Corinne: That's very benevolent of you.
Me: I tell myself the same thing when I get up every morning.

I'm Sorry I Never Did This But the Daydream Was Nice

I'm going to leave here for a little while and I'm going to travel all over the world. I'm going to be hungrier and thirstier and colder than I've ever been in my life. I'm going to read the sacred literature and visit the holy places of every major religion. I'm going to overcome my fear of spiders and insects because I'm going to see bigger ones than I've ever seen when I hit the tropics. I'm going to strike up conversations with people on planes, trains, buses, even waiting to cross streets or order at a cafe. I'm going to leap off a cliff into the water below with adrenaline junkies and I'm going to sit motionless and meditate in a monastery. I'm going to reevaluate my life as I make my way up a mountain and begin to mistake the thinning atmosphere for mental clarity. I'm going to attend concerts that are not alternative rock and might not even be in English, and I'm going to go back to that modern art gallery in London and actually appreciate it this time. I'll learn to stay awake whenever it's demanded of me and sleep whenever it's possible. I'm going to forget all the petty things making me sad because I'm going to be physically and mentally pushing myself to my limits, destroying myself and starting over.

Then I'll come home and I won't just be taking up space. I'll actually have so much to say, your eyes will light up when you listen to me, inspired and entertained.

You'll actually be happier when I'm around. 

And after I've done all that... I might finally get around to cleaning out my car.

Hopefully This Gives You Some Peace

Anyway, I'm still reading stuff for the comp test. Current project: Henderson the Rain King by Saul Bellow. And I was really struck by one passage in which the protagonist is reacting to a gorgeous sunrise:

"At once I recognized the importance of this, as throughout my life I had known these moments when the dumb begins to speak, when I hear the voices of objects and colors; then the physical universe starts to wrinkle and change and heave and rise and smooth, so it seems that even the dogs have to lean against a tree, shivering. Thus on this white wall with its prickles, like the gooseflesh of matter, was the pink light, and it was similar to flying over the white points of the sea at ten thousand feet as the sun begins to rise."

And I'm kind of reminded of times I've been out trail running under a sky so blue I couldn't help but stare upwards (and hopefully not trip) and felt so privileged to be allowed to be a part of something this beautiful.

My Birthday Tribute to Naomi

Tomorrow is not only Friday the 13th, it is also the birthday of my good friend Naomi. We spent way too much time together in high school and college to be good for our health or anyone else's, and to commemorate Naomi's birthday and be nostalgic I made a list:

Remember...?

*making you laugh for hours by pointing at something and stating what it was

*Moulin Rob... enough said...

*that fake ONU student we made a xanga for

*forking lawns and defacing cars with various foodstuffs

*our various attempts to sing the entire score of Les Mis, and le misery of anyone who happened to be riding in the car with us

*emails with end credits

*our contest to see who was weirder

*our contest to see who had wasted her life more

*LOTS of bad horror movies. and a few good ones

*our list of presidential campaign promises

*the "wall of hate" in our dorm room freshman year, and the tack-filled rat watching over it

*the amazing Night of the Living Dead spoof we filmed using only you, me, a video camera, an empty field, and a bottle of ketchup

*the much more elaborate Sleepaway Camp spoof we never actually filmed where Brandon Johnson was going to wear a wig and play Angela

*leaving threatening notes and pudding cups in strangers' mailboxes

*and probably many more escapades that would only incriminate me further if i listed them

Hope your birthday's as happy as you deserve, Nomz. And if nothing else, at least make the most of it by making Andy get you as many glasses of water as possible before the clock hits midnight.

I Leave You With This

I leave you with this passage from "Everything is Illuminated" by Jonathan Safran Foer that perhaps describes why we all blog. Even though English is this character's second language, I think I understand him very well here.

"I think this is why I relish writing for you so much... I can be funny, because I have time to meditate about how to be funny, and I can repair my mistakes when I perform mistakes, and I can be a melancholy person in manners that are interesting, not only melancholy. With writing, we have second chances. You mentioned to me that first evening of our voyage that you thought you might have been born to be a writer. What a terrible thing, I think... It is true, I am certain, that you will write very many more books than I will, but it is me, not you, who was born to be the writer."