Archive for November, 2005

Cheerleaders

November 21, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

It’s been hard to forget (or bleach from my mind) our cheerleading halftime show to Boot Scoot and Boogie and that I had to be in the front doing a fucking split at competition.

“Yeah, heel, toe, docie doe come on baby let’s go boot scootinCadilac black jack, baby meet me outback we’re gonna boogieOh get down, turn around go to town boot scootin’ boogie”

I kid you not, I chose to heel toe docie doe my way through the fifth grade as a member of the Broncos Pop Warner football cheerleading squad. It blew. It blew like a 16 year old girl on prom night. Nothing says kill me now like being in a tiny skirt in November in upstate New York. The only plus were the football hotdogs and hot chocolate and the DC Pizza. Thankfully I had the right mind to quit cheerleading and go into soccer, but many of my friends remained on the job. For example the lovely Mo C who became captain of the varsity cheerleading squad and dated the captain of the football team. I was most proud when she was named Homecoming queen. All of this is shocking I know, but very true.

This isn’t about cheerleading though; well actually it is about a form of cheerleading. As stupid as it all sounds, everyone needs a little morale. Just a little something to keep them going when the shit hits the fan and the score is 36-0 and your quarterback has just been sacked. Everyone just needs someone to listen and cheer them on when the bad stuff happens, even if is your own fault. I hate being sappy more than anything on earth, but having a blog about this, the most shittiest year ever (even worse than the cheerleading year, because at least then I was 10 years old and wasn’t forced to use my own money for anything except for candy), has been quite the therapeutic little undertaking, and considerably cheaper I might add. I don’t know if all of this quarter life neurotic nonsense is normal or not. And I really don’t care, because each and every time I have an inane complaint, you all come up with a comment saying “Yup, been there done that, but it gets better” and if it doesn’t get better, then there’s always alcohol.

So when Random House comes at me with a book offer to write a novella about the most craptastic year ever; I’ll make sure that y’all get a “Holla” on the first page.

BAWF

November 18, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“Oh, wouldn’t the world seem dull and flat with nothing whatever to grumble at? ” ~W.S. Gilbert

…No instead we’ll begin with the fact that I’ve just discovered that my pimp name is (drumroll please) Deacon Dr. H Wicked. Word.

…Let’s begin with the chick walking down Constitution today with her winter coat, Uggs and (wait for it) white linen skirt. Because obviously it’s not November and 45 mother fucking degrees outside. Nope, nice and warm here in our nation’s capital. I wanted to reach out to her and say “Honey, not everyone can be Sienna Miller”. Poor girl.

…Now let’s say you’re a 25 almost 26 year old, only child, who recently lost a job, but then found a new one, and spent all of your money on drinks instead of the electric bill…would you be walking around (at damn near 30) acting like a seven year old and barking at the lovely Zen filled happy person that is your roommate? Or giving your roommate the silent treatment? I’m just wondering if this happens to all people once they get close to 30 or if I’m just really this fortunate to have this extra special person to myself.

…Let’s also say that at random your one year old cell phone keeps randomly powering off and saying that there’s a battery problem, even though you charged the fucking phone last night. So now you are forced to drive to umm Rockville or some crazy shit like that in order to get it fixed.

…And how about being treated like an inept retard everyday, but thankfully you’ve finally gotten over people and their inability to act like human beings. It’s weird, because there was a time when I would’ve gotten all upset but now I kind of just look at people while they’re freaking out and say “ok” then walk away and kind of laugh about it later, because seriously people, nothing is ever that serious.

…Then there’s rampant simony and nepotism and well that’s never something that you can do about that

…And finally, suppose that you have an awesome mother who suggests coming down to beat up the person that you abhor, but since that is illegal in 50 states and the District of Columbia, she suggests a VooDoo doll. She’ll supply the pins.

And this kids, is a reason for why Bitches are Whack. Happy Friday and Happy Weekend.

Hate

November 18, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“Hatred is one long wait.” ~René Maran

It was in March, when Garrett told me about Jon’s death. He had been in a car accident in Guilderland. Jon and I had grown up together. I became ever the tomboy when I was around him. Hats and bikes and watching ‘It’. It was Jon who had come up with calling Garrett ‘G’, which he has been called ever since. In seventh grade, Jon was the one who had come up with a God awful name to call me; a name that to this day, 11 years later, I cannot bear to say out loud. Everyone in school called me by this name and for a good year, all I could do was wish that something terrible would happen to him. Not enough to kill him but so that he would go away. I even wished death upon myself. So when he died, I was unable to feel as bad as Garrett did. Shocked? Yes, very. But I knew what I had left behind and he was apart of what I had left. I was ok now, successful for a 21 year old and traveling in Spain. I had gone to a good university and I have always been determined to leave home at home, so instead of crying and being upset that someone my age, whom I had been quite close with, had just died in a terrible accident, I went to see Real Madrid play.

I had never hated someone with such vehemence before. It’s said that it takes more energy to hate someone than to like them, but when someone makes you so miserable that you become physically ill, then there’s a problem. One of my flaws is the amount to which I allow someone to hurt me and make me miserable. It’s come to a point with one person, that I hate this person, to the point where once again, I often hope that s/he will never return, not dead necessarily, but maimed. When I realized how incredibly much I hated this person, I searched to find another person whom I had hated just as much. Jon. Speaking to my mother about it, I told her how much I had hated Jon. He made seventh grade feel like the longest year ever, but obviously I survived it and we both grew out of our 11 year old psyches.

Six months after graduation, I have come to the sad realization that this will be the longest year ever and that though there is someone that I hate, I’ll get through it.

The Not Quite Quarter Life Crisis

November 17, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“Who doesn’t want a shortcut to greatness?”-The Contender

Subtitled: holy hell maybe I should have a plan so that I don’t end up finding myself at 34 and losing all ability to buy Tiffany’s and Coach.

There’s either rush to get it or procrastinate the hell out of everything to the point where I’ve fucked myself about 45 times. No happy gray in-between area where I can let things go. Nope. Just go 85mph or put on the brakes. I’m not sure if it’s genetic or not, but that’s how I am and I have to just deal I suppose. How many days can I sit and go on about how slowly everything is going right now? I’m boring myself to bits and what I really need to do is lay out my plans. Even though the best laid plans get blown the fuck up, I like to at least have a reference point. A focus point if you will, so that when the pain gets to me, I’ll have my eyes on the prize. It’s nice to finally have things in place for me to focus on. Like property* and a Prius.

My being goal oriented is nothing new. When I decided to move to DC at the tender age of 11-the same age at which I realized that Congress may quite possibly the coolest thing ever (yeah I said it)-I then began to research school that I would send my ‘yet to be conceived because there was yet to be even remote signs of menstruation’ children to in 30 years. For the record it’s a toss up between Georgetown Day School and Sidwell as I’ve found that Visitation and NCS kids are too fucking obnoxious when it comes to getting their Chipotle. But I’ve digressed; the point is that I’ve been feeling the sting that is, what will be next and I need to be able to plan accordingly. I can’t go around spending frivolously anymore without nary a dollar saved because the padres aren’t to keen on getting “Pretty please I need money” phone calls anymore and then having to save my ass. It’s not fair to them nor is it fair to me to be broke all the time. It leads to uneasiness and a very hurt jaw; I’d prefer to be at ease and not eating puréed vegetables, thank you very much.

I enjoy stability. I enjoy knowing what is going to come next and even if what I had planned to come next doesn’t happen, and then it’s usually because something better and more exciting came my way. And while I’ll never been absolutely sure about what will be next, I do know that this here kids, is the quarter life crises and it’s nice to know that the best is yet to come.

*holy hell, property. PROPERTY. Like a place to live in and establish a permanent residence that doesn’t involve disgruntle damn near 30 former only child roommates who act like they’re seven. Property! As in a mortgage and a hefty down payment. I think someone has replaced my actual brain with one of a real life adult. Motherfuckers.

Shared Pain*

November 16, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“Going to work for a large company is like getting on a train. Are you going sixty miles an hour or is the train going sixty miles an hour and you’re just sitting still?”-J Paul Getty

LK: yeah i mean work is work
LK: i really have no complaints except that being hung over in work clothes and trying to do work sucks
LK: you can’t “skip” work like you could w/ class
LK: i feel like a robot like get up go to work
LK: everyday you know
HB: oh I know
LK: haha
HB: trust me I know
LK: but this is what everyone does
LK: unless you want to waitress or something and not eat
LK: well i guess you’d be fed
LK: but not have any nice clothes
LK: and no drinking money

*Holy prolific one batman! This is my 100th post. Ok I’m done with the whole blogging thing now. The end.
Yeah, you got a little hopeful just then didn’t you…? Too bad.