Friday, March 24, 2006

shak attack

((High school reunion. Dude, blowing my mind.

All that being said, it's really only kick-started one repressed memory, and it's not even a memory from HS. Memories from high school smell like Obsession for Men, this particular memory smells like old feet and mildew.

There was this one girl, who, oh my god- she was just so great, in retrospect. I had 6th grade gym with her. She used to (I think) wear a hefty bag tied around her waist under her uniform. She used to have conversations with the holes in her Keds. One particular week, she decided not to talk, only meow and hiss at people, and pretend she had to sharpen hr claws. KS, please back me up on this.

Later on in life, someone saw her working at a Wendys drive-through.

GIRL. I do not know where you are now, but please listen up & listen hard: we all should have told you back then. You have intense potential. If you are not creating performance art on the street corners of NYC right this *very instant*, re-evaluate your life spirit. The universe is yours for the taking.))
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1 comment:

BKB said...

DOOD.

It was MY Keds(c) that did the talking, she just translated. In fact I didn't even know they were lingual.

She was magic. For me, she was just about the only thing that made 6th grade gym bearable: for Indoor Sorts, like Y.Truly, that whole milieu (can one use "milieu" when referring to Middle School? Prolly not.) was Big Trauma.

I can't remember her name. I keep wanting to say it was Shakira, but I don't think that's right.

9:24 AM

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