5.08.2005
Wooooo! S A T U R...D......A.....um...Y......oh, who gives a fuck
Saturday nights these days have about as much meaning as....as...damn it. I can't even think of a good simile...and those are my favorite, for cryin' out loud!
It's just been one of those evenings, nay, days...where I can read into Everything that comes my way.
A group of sixteen year old sk8ers (that I will agree...are MUCH cooler than I am...or ever was, for that matter) passed by me today as I returned from a delivery and called me an asshole.
I'm not sure why. I actually didn't do or say anything to these kids.
But whatever...I still spent a good 20 minutes after that trying to sort it out in my head. You see, on one hand, I don't feel old enough to straight up condemn them and their random rude behavior...but on the other hand, I don't feel young enough to understand where the hell they are coming from. Did I used to go around calling people assholes for no reason?
It's quite possible. I seem to remember being a slightly to very angry youth...I don't particularly remember randomly calling anyone an asshole...but, I DO remember the drive by shoutings..."Hey Sister Catherine....SMOKE POT!!!" Oh...and how could I forget the "Just Say No" field tests that involved pulling up slowly next to helmet-clad middle school kids merrily biking home and propositioning, "Pssst...hey kid! Ya...you. Do you want some candy? No really, it's ok...I'm a friend of your mom's and she said it was fine.*" These field tests always worked out as planned with the kid saying "No!" and trying to peddle as fast as their Ninja Turtle L.A. Lights shoes could take them.
Not to digress too much, but that whole idea got started with a bit of bong passing and realizing that all of Nancy Regan's damn "Just Say No" propaganda, obviously, didn't work. Why? Well, we figured it was because they were going about it the wrong way. I had never once been offered drugs, candy, or a ride by a trench coat-wearing shadowy stranger or a ghetto talking gangsta'...
Rather, all the drugs that were initially offered to me came from my closest friends and fellow athletes. I felt rather gypped that I was never able to put to use "Just Say No" tactics that the public schools spent hours drilling into my head through informational films...So really, when it came down to it, I just felt like I was doing my duty as a student and citizen of Texas. Ya. Logical thinking, right?
This was actually meant to be a ranting post tonight...you know, one where I just list off all the shit that's pissed me off today, yesterday, and during my whole life that I've managed to keep bottled for the sake of socialization? Yeah. That stuff. But strangely enough, talking about the motivations of dickhead teenagers got it out...not bad.
Except for one thing. I made cornbread today. I don't even like cornbread. I just happened to have all the ingredients for cornbread. So, why not? So, now I have a loaf of cornbread that I ate a small slice off of...the rest will go to waste...and guess what, I STILL don't like cornbread.
Goodnight. I need the sleep...maybe it'll calm my brain and bring it down from it's current manic state.
*Mind you, this was merely a test...there were no real drugs being distributed to children...I'm not THAT evil...geez.
It's just been one of those evenings, nay, days...where I can read into Everything that comes my way.
A group of sixteen year old sk8ers (that I will agree...are MUCH cooler than I am...or ever was, for that matter) passed by me today as I returned from a delivery and called me an asshole.
I'm not sure why. I actually didn't do or say anything to these kids.
But whatever...I still spent a good 20 minutes after that trying to sort it out in my head. You see, on one hand, I don't feel old enough to straight up condemn them and their random rude behavior...but on the other hand, I don't feel young enough to understand where the hell they are coming from. Did I used to go around calling people assholes for no reason?
It's quite possible. I seem to remember being a slightly to very angry youth...I don't particularly remember randomly calling anyone an asshole...but, I DO remember the drive by shoutings..."Hey Sister Catherine....SMOKE POT!!!" Oh...and how could I forget the "Just Say No" field tests that involved pulling up slowly next to helmet-clad middle school kids merrily biking home and propositioning, "Pssst...hey kid! Ya...you. Do you want some candy? No really, it's ok...I'm a friend of your mom's and she said it was fine.*" These field tests always worked out as planned with the kid saying "No!" and trying to peddle as fast as their Ninja Turtle L.A. Lights shoes could take them.
Not to digress too much, but that whole idea got started with a bit of bong passing and realizing that all of Nancy Regan's damn "Just Say No" propaganda, obviously, didn't work. Why? Well, we figured it was because they were going about it the wrong way. I had never once been offered drugs, candy, or a ride by a trench coat-wearing shadowy stranger or a ghetto talking gangsta'...
Rather, all the drugs that were initially offered to me came from my closest friends and fellow athletes. I felt rather gypped that I was never able to put to use "Just Say No" tactics that the public schools spent hours drilling into my head through informational films...So really, when it came down to it, I just felt like I was doing my duty as a student and citizen of Texas. Ya. Logical thinking, right?
This was actually meant to be a ranting post tonight...you know, one where I just list off all the shit that's pissed me off today, yesterday, and during my whole life that I've managed to keep bottled for the sake of socialization? Yeah. That stuff. But strangely enough, talking about the motivations of dickhead teenagers got it out...not bad.
Except for one thing. I made cornbread today. I don't even like cornbread. I just happened to have all the ingredients for cornbread. So, why not? So, now I have a loaf of cornbread that I ate a small slice off of...the rest will go to waste...and guess what, I STILL don't like cornbread.
Goodnight. I need the sleep...maybe it'll calm my brain and bring it down from it's current manic state.
*Mind you, this was merely a test...there were no real drugs being distributed to children...I'm not THAT evil...geez.
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Ah, yes, cornbread. Here's a funny story...
An ex-roommate of mine, i won't say who, decided to make cornbread one day. She wanted to make it like her grandmother used to make it. Unfortunately, ex-roomie pulled a Jessica Simpson and tried to bake the cornbread in a non-stick frying pan instead of an iron skillet.
she wondered why the pan was bubbling and plopping onto the bottom of the oven...
Grandma would have been so proud.
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An ex-roommate of mine, i won't say who, decided to make cornbread one day. She wanted to make it like her grandmother used to make it. Unfortunately, ex-roomie pulled a Jessica Simpson and tried to bake the cornbread in a non-stick frying pan instead of an iron skillet.
she wondered why the pan was bubbling and plopping onto the bottom of the oven...
Grandma would have been so proud.
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