Saturday, August 09, 2008

Q: Drink? A: A world of no.

Idea #42 is to make a personal timeline of my past. That's a pretty horrifying thought, but I can definitely pinpoint some highlights that I haven't already talked about...

Age 5: my stupid brother and his stupid neighborhood friends gang up and make one of them (the one I kind of had a crush on) kiss me on the nose. It was truly the most embarrassing moment of my childhood. The friends moved away a few years later but we had a reunion of sorts when I was in high school, and they all still remembered that day. Niiiiiice.

Age 11: my friend and I convince our 65-year-old Sunday School teacher to take us to see Top Gun after she suggests a social outing. She took us. All-around embarrassing hilarity ensued.

Age 17: I get called to the principal's office for the first time ever. The principal reprimands me for one of the items in my senior will, a direct quote from Lord of the Flies dedicated as an inside joke to my friend who shared a year of an absolutely intolerable teacher of otherwise excellent English literature with me. Long preposition-free story short, because lord knows I used enough in that last sentence, the principal calls my mom who's all "yeah, it's from A BOOK, can I go back to work now?", and then the AP English teacher responsible for editing the senior wills says the same thing, and later leaves a copy of said book in his inbox with a curt "suggested summer reading" note. And yes, hilarity ensued. (Even more hilarity ensued when he got fired a few years later for boinking the school secretary. But that's a story for his personal timeline.)

Age 19: drink five or seven too many Malibu & cokes (heavy on the Malibu) with my friend on the ferry from England to Ireland, spend half the night puking and the other half wishing we could puke, get picked up by my friend's cousin who drives like a banshee for about an hour straight to the local pub where Ireland is playing the US for the World Cup, wish we could puke the whole time... Hilarity finally ensues when we proceed to get good-naturedly ribbed while Ireland pummels the crap out of the US. Those Irish are good peeps. I need to go back.

Age 20: finally have a profound experience with a college professor. Wait, that sounds wrong. Finally have a brilliant, insightful, inspiring college professor who challenges me to push myself father than I want to go. (Educationally. Just to clarify.)

And after that, you pretty much know the story... or there's nothing to tell. One or the other.

Are you as bored with this magic book goal as I am?

1 comment:

  1. Senior will? I thought that, by the time you're a senior, you've pretty much had the will whipped out of you.

    "Assmar" as a mispronunciation of "asthma" is almost as good as "smiling mighty Jesus" as a mispronunciation/misunderstanding of "spinal meningitis."

    Why don't people lose their jobs for inappropriate boinking these days? I mean, inappropriate boinking with consenting adults from the same place of business, as opposed to boinking someone over whom the co-boinker has power. I could tell you tales...that is, I could mumblingly relay diluted rumors...of inappropriate boinkings at work that didn't result in anything but transfers.

    I refuse to hold the Irish in awe while my spouse (who hasn't met any) does. I think his awe is based primarily on James Joyce, who frankly doesn't float my literary boat. Misogynists never do.

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