help?
Being home.
OK, it was all fine and good.
But then, when you run out of old stomping grounds and conversation with the family... you start going through the drawers. And it's like some sort of movie moment where you have this huge flashback and you realize... I was an idiot.
Holy crap.
Finding the size 400 pants I used to wear, the men's XXL green cord jacket. The pictures from... oh man.
Gah.
Not that I'm done becoming who I'm gonna be, and not that I won't look back to now and say the same thing. Not that I would have listened if anyone had told me then what an idiot I was.
But, hell.
Wow.
Anyway.
I bought a bunch of stuff I didn't need today ($9 for pumpkin waffle mix? Ab-so-freakin'-loutely. A new Digital Underground album? Yes sir! A D50? The verdict is still out, but apparantly these are the sexy new accessory this season...). Things here have changed so much, yet so little. My brother, my little brother, who is still what, eight? in my head, has a girlfriend. Or so I think, because I don't know any normal 21-year-old dude who spends two hours chatting on the phone in his room with his door shut... with his buddies. Who he last saw a week ago. Yes, the little squirt has a girlfriend. Shock and horror.
I had lunch the other day with the full gauntlet of family in town and my childhood best friend (ie, we were best friends from preschool until kindergarden, and stayed friendsish until grade 5 or so). She's living in Baltimore with her wife, and her little sister is busy getting some crazy double-bachelors. My strongest memory of this girl is when she came as a bunch of grapes for halloween... big, purple fuzzy grapes were attached to this leotard, and she wore green tights. I half expected her to show up wearing it. Man, that was a pimp cosutme. I should recreate it next year.
I suppose there isn't much other news... I've been spending a lot of time inside my own head, and basically I want to get back... to my friends and a bottle of wine.
Or perhaps something stronger.
OK, it was all fine and good.
But then, when you run out of old stomping grounds and conversation with the family... you start going through the drawers. And it's like some sort of movie moment where you have this huge flashback and you realize... I was an idiot.
Holy crap.
Finding the size 400 pants I used to wear, the men's XXL green cord jacket. The pictures from... oh man.
Gah.
Not that I'm done becoming who I'm gonna be, and not that I won't look back to now and say the same thing. Not that I would have listened if anyone had told me then what an idiot I was.
But, hell.
Wow.
Anyway.
I bought a bunch of stuff I didn't need today ($9 for pumpkin waffle mix? Ab-so-freakin'-loutely. A new Digital Underground album? Yes sir! A D50? The verdict is still out, but apparantly these are the sexy new accessory this season...). Things here have changed so much, yet so little. My brother, my little brother, who is still what, eight? in my head, has a girlfriend. Or so I think, because I don't know any normal 21-year-old dude who spends two hours chatting on the phone in his room with his door shut... with his buddies. Who he last saw a week ago. Yes, the little squirt has a girlfriend. Shock and horror.
I had lunch the other day with the full gauntlet of family in town and my childhood best friend (ie, we were best friends from preschool until kindergarden, and stayed friendsish until grade 5 or so). She's living in Baltimore with her wife, and her little sister is busy getting some crazy double-bachelors. My strongest memory of this girl is when she came as a bunch of grapes for halloween... big, purple fuzzy grapes were attached to this leotard, and she wore green tights. I half expected her to show up wearing it. Man, that was a pimp cosutme. I should recreate it next year.
I suppose there isn't much other news... I've been spending a lot of time inside my own head, and basically I want to get back... to my friends and a bottle of wine.
Or perhaps something stronger.
posted by M at 10:18 PM
4 Comments:
You want a D50, dude.
For Christmas, my brother's wife created a DVD of our old family videos. Which means she saw me being a COMPLETE fucking idiot. on film. at like, the age of 13 or something ungodly.
So, i'm feeling the pain.
I don't need a D50. I got skillz.
All of that stuff from the time I was a youngun has been expunged. Remember LA Gear? J.Star remembers LA Gear, doncha J?
Digital Underground is definitely keepin' it moving.
-Suley
I find that when I nonchalantly fess up to being a confused goofball in my younger years or alternately a ragingly angry teen, people tend to cut some slack and then do not bring up the stupid things that I once did.
and god forbid someone should pop up with movies. im sorry j star.
You weren't an idiot back then (the evidence in the drawers at home notwithstanding). DON'T throw any of it away - I promise in another 10 years, you LOVE that you have it, and the perspective will be a lot clearer than it is now, just a few years later.
Happy new year!
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