"Deface Destroyer" Contest: you have until the 1st. I myself am noodling out a few ideas involving images of crepe paper flowers, the kind I used to make in girl scouts; Zima; and maybe Freddy the magic flute from HR Pufnstuf. Like I said: noodling it out.
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The word is out - after all this ridic internal headgame drama concerning reuniting with people I don't remember much about, turns I will be out of town the weekend of Ye Olde HS Alumni Get-Together. I mean, waaayyyyyy out of town - out of town like, scarfing lobster tails seaside in some quaint resorty place in Maine, listening to people play guitars, lukewarm coffee and prob excessive drinking, wearing flipflops in the coldest of October morns. And maybe gaucho pants.
What does this mean? Besides the world folding in on itself because of my absence? Besides your extreme disappointment at my no-show, fellow grads? Um, not much. My mom will have to search for her gossip elsewhere (may I suggest the Safeway produce aisle. It used to treat you so well, Moms, in bringing home both Romaine aannnnd the latest in teen pregnancies on the track team.) S. responded to the news of her and I's certain absence with a hearty "see youn's in 20!!!!!!" but I guess I'm still willing to, I dunno, call caterers about Heineken prices if fellow members of the reunion oligarchy need help. Maybe.
Anyways, I won't be there, suckers. Sorry, you will not have the chance to bitchsap me for whatever I did to you in Walker's 4th period PE class this time, okay? I'm pointedly referring to you, JL, who signed my yearbook "we sure had some fun times even though you were a bitch to me all year." Oh, muffin, we never had fun.
This does mean abandoning one or two people I would have liked to thank for helping me graduate (Robert! Kid who was alphabetically locker-tied to me 6th grade and up, and let me copy every single homework assignment EVER, with only partial eyerolls! Holla! I miss you. You are a genius, and I have some more work stuff I'd like to have you around for right now, actually.) Anyways, all the rest of my now-adult-chubby sophomore era BBBBFFs will just have to recreate without me those precious moments in NB's basement, gnawing on Taco Bell, listening to Pearl Jam, piled up together on broke down bunkbeds, drinking Beast, watching whats-his-name pierce his own lip. And I'll probably miss the goodtime talks about "having to get day jobs" with other dudes, now approaching 30 and still in a Sublime cover band.
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Question: how does one cure dry eyes? And what are the signs of eye cancer? I'd like to make sure my office manager does not think I'm doing bonghits in my car before showing up for work every day, and thus far, well... I think I'm cool, but dude. The redness, the bloodshotty-ness? It's computer usage, I'm convinced, but no earthly Visine has helped. And, Visine stings.
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4 comments:
I'm thinking of something Slayeresque for the Destroyer contest. Dan Bejar's Reign In Blood! A Testament to Youth...In Blood. Destroyer, so death metal, and he doesn't even know it.
you've tried all the visines? I just saw an ad threatening me with the vast size of their offerings. I hear that grape is particularly good.
Also: goggles?
why did I not make the connection on that? I was acutally just talking to someone about procuring a pair of WWII goggles, and there you have it: a potential solution for me. WWII flight goggles! I hope you weren't suggesting swimming goggles, because, you know, that would just be ridiculous.
my b.
I replaced the visine in the medicine closet with Key Lime juice.
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