November 29, 2004
The other night my husband and I started talking about having another baby. We have been trying to get pregnant for a few months now, but that night we actually talked about the logistics, names, and the possibility of having a child born in Europe. During our discussion, I realized I’d be fine without my hometown Obstetrician, but I’m not sure I can continue to live with a man who suggests these names for an infant:
-Barnaby
-Dirk
-George
-Kirk
-Jeff (just Jeff, not Jeffery, just JEFF)
-Les
-Oscar
-Phinneas
-Rod
-Uli
-Vince
-Wick
-Yancy
-Zebulon
Yes, they were prepared for me in alphabetical order, too. We each made a list, and he chose one name from each chapter of the baby name book. I didn’t use a book, I just listed a handful of names I liked. He seemed very disappointed that he couldn’t choose both Kirk and Kermit with his selected method.
I said, “Hell, write down all the names you want, they’re all going to the same place.”
FLUSH.
November 28, 2004
Thanksgiving came and went with such a quickness, I hardly had any time to actually think about what I am thankful for. Typically, I wait until someone presses me before I begin my lengthy tirade about being thankful for every atom and molecule on the planet, waxing poetic on the cool dew left by Father Night and the warm sunshine through my window on a Saturday afternoon. People know how thankful I am - I’m a very thankful person.
All sarcasm aside, I do usually take a few minutes to let the people I love know how much I care about them. Not that it really has anything to do with conquering indigenous people, but since it’s expected, I try not to disappoint.
This year I had an unexpected surprise (two, actually) thanks to a quick Google search and a bit of luck. I realized a few months ago that my ten year high school reunion was approaching, and curiosity steered me over to Classmates. com to look for old friends. Most of the people I went to high school with haven’t seen me since the last day of class, and those who saw me afterwards probably just accidentally ran into me. I didn’t attempt to maintain relationships with any of them, and that is something I sort of regret. One girl I was very close to in 1995 attended a neighboring high school, and actually wound up at St. John’s the same year as I did. That friendship crumbled due to her total lack of respect for The Real World. To her, college was just another place to hate and judge and complain, and I couldn’t keep up: I was having fun, imagine her horror. All that angst had dissolved in me, but not her. That was a friendship that we thought would last forever, and barely survived the first semester. In fact, my loyalty to her, even after realizing we had grown apart, cost me the friendship of another girl named Hannah. I’ll never forgive myself for the way I handled that particular situation, but it’s too late now.
It’s not just regret that urged me to look on that website, it was extreme curiosity and hope. I hoped that the kids who had big dreams actually got somewhere, and enjoyed their own little piece of fame wherever they were. For some, their biggest dream was making it to college, for others, it was a stage with hot lights and heavy makeup.
The first old friend I found was Jennifer. She had been one of my closest friends in high school, giving me rides to school and boy advice that I wish I had taken. She was tall and had these amazing eyes — I was always jealous of her eyes. We were total goofballs together, and I suppose she and one other girlfriend (also named Jen, oddly enough) have always been the prototype of a best friend to me: someone who you can just relax around and be yourself around, dancing like a moron and revealing your awful singing voice. Jen and I went to see Smashing Pumpkins together and I remember driving home and feeling ‘funny’. Apparently everyone around us was smoking pot, but we had no idea what it was. I knew there was a weird smell but I honestly thought it was body odor. I was straight-edge at the time, and was horrified at what had happened to me, but it was hilarious none the less.
The other girl I found is Regi. Regi and I shared two major things: a mediocre boyfriend (but dazzling in his own way) named Cody and a boy named Robin Ian. Cody was easy to fall for: he was cute and funny and smart in that way that makes you jealous. He wasn’t bookish, he was life-smart and liked to please. I don’t even remember how Cody and I got together, but I remember Robin advising against it. I thought I had found my perfect match. I didn’t know myself nearly as well as I advertised. I later dumped Cody for someone else and never really felt bad about it. I could be cruel. Regi and were never at odds over this, though, and that’s part of the reason I liked her. She let me talk about it and never tried to judge or laugh. She had this amazing talent in drama club (yes I was in Drama Club), and I found out that she is doing a production of Angels in America in her local theatre now. I am so impressed and happy for her — never giving up on what she wants.
Talking to both of them makes me miss Robin, though. He was such an amazing friend, practically a member of the family. When I left for college, he moved into my room for a while and lived with my parents. He was this gentle, black-haired pixie sort of boy, quiet and reserved but hilarious and enthusiastic all at once. I still email with him every once in a while, I wish more often. I believe he lives in California now with his boyfriend of several years. I worry about him, but somehow I know that if he was ever in trouble he’d find a way to reach me. He used to make me sit and learn Kate Bush songs on the piano while he played guitar. For some reason I didn’t realize he was gay until I moved away. Well, that’s not totally true, but I was never really sure.
So this Thanksgiving has me thankful for one big thing: friendship. Not just the kind that lingers as some sort of memory you cling to to feel less alone, but the kind that rises and falls like a tide, and never really leaves you.
Though, so far I’m still the only one with a kid. To me, that’s just hilarious.
November 24, 2004
![]()
Just chillin’ with some Zorn, a bunny and some kind of bizarre poodle-balloon.
November 23, 2004
I think I am officially certifiable.
I’ve invited people over for drinks and dinner tomorrow night.
More to come…
November 23, 2004
![]()
Seriously, is there any reason I shouldn’t hate these people? The conversations rival Dawson’s Creek in terms of witty banter reaching such great heights of wit that I fail to believe any human actually talks like that, and their total selfishness and complete and utter denial of their status as “Haves” (as John Edwards would say) bring me absolute spasms of hate each and every time I watch.
Yet, I keep watching. Mike thinks it’s some sort of cumpulsory thing, and that he thought I watched it as a life-affirming event. Absolutely taken aback, I denied this claim with the utmost intensity.
But I swear to God, if they keep name dropping bands, I’m going to jump right through the t.v. and start strangling them. Or I’ll just join a forum and start writing fan-fiction. I haven’t decided yet.
