Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Short, Senseless Vignettes and One-Liners

People in NY think they're not starfuckers. Maybe they're not. Except for when they are, and pretend they're not, which is it's very own brand of sickening.I was on line for an event the other day (a few months ago, I suppose), and Meryl Streep walked by. The guy on line behind me was practically breaking his neck not to look, and when I realized who it was, I said "wow, was that Meryl Streep?" he said "oh, I never notice that sort of thing."

The other day I was sitting on a two-sided bench at my subway stop, writing blognotes, actually. I was kind of wrapped up in it, until someone gagged into the hood of my jacket. It brought me right back down to earth, folks.

My friend told me today I could be the mother of a 20 year old girl (I love misquoting you, baby!).

I've recently heard more than once from #9. He's called twice, I've been unable to pick up, he's left messages. Once was to see if I wanted to collaborate on a project, and once, I suspect, so I had his new phone number. Though he's not answered either time I've called back (or he'd call back, and I couldn't pick up). Each time, I've loved getting his message.

My birthday was last week. More on that later.

I've been playing a lot of hockey lately, and I'm feeling mixed. But more happy than not.

No good things have ever come after the words "we're supposed to be friends, right?" Today, I learned this, and even though the person was joking, I felt bad. But because I often obsess about other people's lives to avoid worrying about parts of my own, and because I know this, I'm going to try not to get all wrapped up in his problem.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Kid-Me, Hockey, An Old Photo, a Not-So-Old Photo, and Eye Candy

Here's another kid me thing, this time written out instead of scanned in. Spelling and grammar mistakes included. This story is entitled "Debby."

Debby walked into her living room and she saw bubbles. Then Debby remebered that her little brother was blowing bubbles outside. Then Debby smelled soap. She walked into the bathroom and she saw soap but it wasn't her soap. Then Debby said I give up. And To this day Debby can't find her soap. And she wonders evry time she takes a bite of chocolate.

Don't know what that chocolate thing was about.

ANYWAY. My hockey season starts soon, (two weeks), and I'm certainly ready. This is from a game my family came to, last year. They (meaning my dorkass sister and cousin) made signs. Again, spelling mistakes included.

I've been playing a lot lately, and it feels really good. I want to be better than I have been this season. I even got my first official hockey-playing related tip of the season today from my punkass friend. Rock!

Here's a photo from jazzfest a long time ago.

And last but not least, here's some eye candy. Or, at least it's eye candy for me. Though I'm not entirely clear on which part is the candy part. Hmmm.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

More Than One Post Today

I got a voicemail the other day from a person I miss. Someone I thought would never call me again. He may still never call me again, but I loved his message. Speaks volumes about who he is. I love the little cryptic sonofabitch, though.

It said "Hey, it's [name deleted]. Call me back on this number, I don't know what my new number is, but whatever the [area code deleted] number that showed up on your phone was. There's been a death in the family."

We have no family in common. And I have a suspicion I may know what he's talking about (the breakup of a band that we loved). Still, I'm not sure why, but I love the message.


Tuesday, March 10, 2009

A Break From the Kid-Me Stuff

I'll do it again, just not now.

The other night, I got together with a friend, and we spoke about someone we'd met a few days before. The girl we'd met had something of a... rough...look about her. Someone recently reminded me of a word that used to be one of my favorites: "haggard." It wouldn't be so off the mark for me to call her that. Sweet girl. Very nice. Anyway.

So my friend and I start pontificating (to speak in a pompous and dogmatic manner) about why she looks that way. He comes up with the following nugget of wisdom:

"You know, I bet she has a kid. ALL WOMEN look like that after they have kids. I've seen it a million times"

My best judgement would have been to call him a giant jackass (just sort-of kidding, sweetie! Hi!) and forget it. What I did instead was wrack my brain for women we knew in common that had a kid or kids but looked, in no way, haggard. I came up with a girl that we knew, a girl that he'd even had a huge crush on. VERY cute. Not at all haggard. His retort? "Well, her kid's only three. It doesn't happen until the kid is around four or five."

Even though I know he has no clue what he's talking about, I left that dinner and said "I'm never having motherfucking kids." I have nary a wrinkle on my face, and neither does any female member of my family (even my grandmother has great skin), but that night I slathered on the moisturizer two inches thick.

In his defense, the next day, via text, he admitted he had no clue what he was talking about. I should have realized this. Another direct quote from this person:

"I almost told you that you look like you've lost weight. But I decided against it."

Tip for everyone? NEVER decide against it.

LUURVE ya, babe!

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Hey, Good Luck! Also...I Promise I'll Be Done With This Series At Some Point

Today started out meh. I say just "meh," because I woke up with that weird feeling that I had a lot to get accomplished, and then just felt sorta blah all day and puttered around a bunch at work, running errands, and trying to write, but didn't really accomplish anything real.

Then, early this evening, I called a friend that I just recently got back in touch with. I'll be creative and call this person RA (as I think I've already done before on this blog. I'm really good with the annonyminity thing). We laughed a shit-ton while on the phone, 'cause that's just how we roll. While we were chatting and laugh-laugh-laughing, I was cleaning out a box that my mom had given me (we're packing up her house to move. I may have mentioned). Inside the box, I find an envelope simply marked "2004." I openend it, freaked out by what I might find (oddly, my brain went immediately to tax papers or some shit. I have no idea why). What was in there, though, was $300 in fucking ciz-ash! Boo-yah!

This is remarkable on its own merit, however, it was made even moreso by the fact that a few zillion years ago, I was on the phone with RA another time, and I found $100. So, see, this time was better. So RA, if you're reading, I looooooooove you, and, as Boy said "you guys need to talk on the phone more often." I missed you a wholebunch. Ask anyone.

ANYWAY, here's another in the kid-me series. I can't figure out how to put it straight, and I kind of don't care that much. Tilt your head and read it, it'll be fine. Good for your neck muscles.

This one's a two-parter. And entirely true. She still hates mice to a rediculous degree. I think it's a family trait. Also note my overuse of the word "well."

Be well, readers.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Another in the Series

So since yesterday's theme proved to be a hit, I decided to post another two pieces of literature authored by kid-me.
Here's the first (and sorry, but no matter how many times I save them horizontally, they still post to this page vertically. Annoying. I don't want to re-scan them but I may have to).

So I'm pretty sure the drinks that "they" had were quite different than the variety that "we" partook in, but still I think it's interesting that I chose to take note of the drinking at all. Nowhere in this group of papers did I see anything about our actual trip to Canada.

Here's another.

Who played colorforms? Me and the baby? I had a friend that had a baby? I was taken to this person's house by someone other than my mother, who said that I had to be home for dinner? Why do the people in this illustration have creepy penciled-in eyes?

Thanks for reading, y'all.

Monday, March 2, 2009

That Was a Longer Hiatus Than I'd Hoped

Hopefully I won't have such a long gap between posts anymore. I don't know what got into me. Maybe it was that I have lots of projects that I'm trying to work on, and it's been a pain in my tuchus to get them off the ground. Maybe it's that I am lazy. Maybe...who cares. I'm writing now.

This Saturday, I helped my mom pack up her garage for her upcoming move. I found lots of kid-Monica gems, and discovered I had quite the passion for creative writing. I'm careful not to imply that I had any sort of talent for creative writing, but if having passion means that I wrote like a motherfucker, then, yes. Passion I had.

Here's a sample. In honor of fashion week...
By Monica Russo, age 7.