sleep all day, stay up all night
Yesterday: Slept. All day. Well, until 2pm.
I'd asked my sister to wake me up at the crack of 10am, but she failed to do so.
Afternoon: Hung out with Neighbour Boy on his lawn. His mother brought out some ice cream for us, and we moved to my backyard so I could hose him down 'cause he smelled.
Evening: Jack Astor's with Neighbour Boy (NB), the Italian Stallion (IS), and friends. The IS retold the story of Shawn Desman at Kelsey's, and I had to wonder a little about him. Apparently, the story goes something like this:
He got to Kelsey's, saw Shawn Desman sitting at the table next to the one they were going to be seated at, and asked, rather loudly, to be moved somewhere else, stating, "I don't want to sit near him."
Now, the fact is that I find that story unappealing to begin with. Had I been with the IS at the time, I probably would've tried to laugh it off as a joke, and sat right where we were being seated. Not because I like Shawn Desman, but because I think it's extremely rude and a little snobby to do something like that. Since I wasn't there at the time, all I can do is react to the telling of the story. The first time he told it, I remarked that I was expecting a humour-filled recount of his night with Shawn, not a display of his complete and utter immaturity. Knowing this, he decided it'd be a good idea to re-tell the story, for a new audience, with me present.
I'm not sure what the story is supposed to do. I'm not sure if it's supposed to make people laugh, or if it's supposed to let people know what a douche the IS can be sometimes, or if it's supposed to make Shawn Desman look bad? I'm truly confused about the point of the story, but in any case, it doesn't shine a positive light AT ALL on the IS, and it made me wonder: Is he just extremely stupid and/or extremely immature and thus believes that this story is actually a barrel of laughs? Or is he just one of those people that's honest about themselves? And if it is the latter, couldn't he have picked a better time, or a more suitable audience?
I regret that it's the former and that I'm giving him too much credit by even suggesting the latter.
In any event, although I didn't say much except agree with one of the girls accompanying us that that was a rude thing to do, later, at Bert and Ernie's, I was accused of "chewing him out", and he seemed rather upset with me.
Perhaps upset I hadn't grasped the comedic timing? Or the underlying theme? Once again, I'm not sure.
Bert 'N Ernie's: Where every(17 year old)body knows your name.
This was my first adventure in B'NE land. Jelena had invited me out on a girls' night on the town, and since I don't have very many girlfriends, I gladly accepted. When we arrived, the crowd looked respectable. Very Hollister. Very 19+. But as midnight approached, I began to recognize faces - and they weren't of my peers. They were of the kids who'd been in grade six when I was in nine, and now dressed old and wore too much makeup, but were nowhere near the age of the target audience. And I wondered when their curfew would come up so they could clear off, but as midnight came and went, I realized rather wistfully that these kids were those kids I didn't understand in high school. That these kids were those kids that'd show up on Monday mornings with talk of that "CRAAAZY PARTY" where they got "smashed" and threw up into the host's dresser drawer. Inevitably, those kids are now those people I run into, still hanging out in the same places (Bert 'N Ernie's was a mini-highschool reunion for me - except I was reunited with people I never actually hung out with), still partying every weekend, and still telling those "crazy" stories the following Monday. Unfortunately, they're also (more often then not) the ones that are confused about where they're going in life, or what they do during the day. Maybe it's just a coincidental correlation, but something rings true: if you start partying hardcore at age 14, you just might get slightly tired of it by the time you hit 20, and in the meantime, you miss all those calculus classes and furitive glances across the room that make high school the hell on Earth that it is. You miss out on the last leg of being a kid, and then you don't realize it when it's time to grow up. Instead, you're doomed to sail forever on this "young adult" sea, first when you're too young for it, and later when you're too old for it, and either way, you look too pathetic doing it.
It's probably just me.
Anyway, Roman called me last night. I haven't spoken to him in MONTHS, and he decided he'd grace us with his presence. He brought along his brother and friend. The minute his brother gets me alone, he decides it's time to call me a snob. I'm not sure why, I'm not sure if he was altogether serious, or how much he'd had to drink. And I've been called a lot of unflattering things in life, some seemingly more true then others: bitch, intimidating, cynical, loud, annoying. But never "snob". "Snob" is a first.
I wonder if it has anything to do with me not wanting to date Roman.
Then he pulls out the psych card (even though he's in sociology), and decides that I'm "almost single"... not quite single, because there's always one boy or another floating around, but almost, because none of them mean anything.
I'm not sure how he knew that.
I'm not sure why he said it.
I hope it has nothing to do with Roman.
But if it does, I'm sorry Roman thinks I'm a snob, 'cause I think he's a rather alright guy.
We called it an early night at about 12:30am, because we were definitely among the oldest people on the patio. As we exited, I remarked I couldn't remember where I'd parked. A kindly young gentleman in the parking lot suggested helpfully that I "lay off the crack". Him and his friend then proceded to open all four doors of a vehicle in their vincinity. I believed it to be their vehicle, until they remarked that people are rather silly for leaving their car doors unlocked. They then found another unlocked vehicle, and opened all of it's doors. And so on. Ad nauseum.
I got into my (up until then) locked car, and drove off sighing, "Oh, to be 17 again".
But then I remembered that when I was seventeen, I sat at home and watched "America's Funniest Home Videos" with my parents on Friday nights, and so I just promised myself that I'd remind myself that B'NE's just isn't for me next time around.
I'd asked my sister to wake me up at the crack of 10am, but she failed to do so.
Afternoon: Hung out with Neighbour Boy on his lawn. His mother brought out some ice cream for us, and we moved to my backyard so I could hose him down 'cause he smelled.
Evening: Jack Astor's with Neighbour Boy (NB), the Italian Stallion (IS), and friends. The IS retold the story of Shawn Desman at Kelsey's, and I had to wonder a little about him. Apparently, the story goes something like this:
He got to Kelsey's, saw Shawn Desman sitting at the table next to the one they were going to be seated at, and asked, rather loudly, to be moved somewhere else, stating, "I don't want to sit near him."
Now, the fact is that I find that story unappealing to begin with. Had I been with the IS at the time, I probably would've tried to laugh it off as a joke, and sat right where we were being seated. Not because I like Shawn Desman, but because I think it's extremely rude and a little snobby to do something like that. Since I wasn't there at the time, all I can do is react to the telling of the story. The first time he told it, I remarked that I was expecting a humour-filled recount of his night with Shawn, not a display of his complete and utter immaturity. Knowing this, he decided it'd be a good idea to re-tell the story, for a new audience, with me present.
I'm not sure what the story is supposed to do. I'm not sure if it's supposed to make people laugh, or if it's supposed to let people know what a douche the IS can be sometimes, or if it's supposed to make Shawn Desman look bad? I'm truly confused about the point of the story, but in any case, it doesn't shine a positive light AT ALL on the IS, and it made me wonder: Is he just extremely stupid and/or extremely immature and thus believes that this story is actually a barrel of laughs? Or is he just one of those people that's honest about themselves? And if it is the latter, couldn't he have picked a better time, or a more suitable audience?
I regret that it's the former and that I'm giving him too much credit by even suggesting the latter.
In any event, although I didn't say much except agree with one of the girls accompanying us that that was a rude thing to do, later, at Bert and Ernie's, I was accused of "chewing him out", and he seemed rather upset with me.
Perhaps upset I hadn't grasped the comedic timing? Or the underlying theme? Once again, I'm not sure.
Bert 'N Ernie's: Where every(17 year old)body knows your name.
This was my first adventure in B'NE land. Jelena had invited me out on a girls' night on the town, and since I don't have very many girlfriends, I gladly accepted. When we arrived, the crowd looked respectable. Very Hollister. Very 19+. But as midnight approached, I began to recognize faces - and they weren't of my peers. They were of the kids who'd been in grade six when I was in nine, and now dressed old and wore too much makeup, but were nowhere near the age of the target audience. And I wondered when their curfew would come up so they could clear off, but as midnight came and went, I realized rather wistfully that these kids were those kids I didn't understand in high school. That these kids were those kids that'd show up on Monday mornings with talk of that "CRAAAZY PARTY" where they got "smashed" and threw up into the host's dresser drawer. Inevitably, those kids are now those people I run into, still hanging out in the same places (Bert 'N Ernie's was a mini-highschool reunion for me - except I was reunited with people I never actually hung out with), still partying every weekend, and still telling those "crazy" stories the following Monday. Unfortunately, they're also (more often then not) the ones that are confused about where they're going in life, or what they do during the day. Maybe it's just a coincidental correlation, but something rings true: if you start partying hardcore at age 14, you just might get slightly tired of it by the time you hit 20, and in the meantime, you miss all those calculus classes and furitive glances across the room that make high school the hell on Earth that it is. You miss out on the last leg of being a kid, and then you don't realize it when it's time to grow up. Instead, you're doomed to sail forever on this "young adult" sea, first when you're too young for it, and later when you're too old for it, and either way, you look too pathetic doing it.
It's probably just me.
Anyway, Roman called me last night. I haven't spoken to him in MONTHS, and he decided he'd grace us with his presence. He brought along his brother and friend. The minute his brother gets me alone, he decides it's time to call me a snob. I'm not sure why, I'm not sure if he was altogether serious, or how much he'd had to drink. And I've been called a lot of unflattering things in life, some seemingly more true then others: bitch, intimidating, cynical, loud, annoying. But never "snob". "Snob" is a first.
I wonder if it has anything to do with me not wanting to date Roman.
Then he pulls out the psych card (even though he's in sociology), and decides that I'm "almost single"... not quite single, because there's always one boy or another floating around, but almost, because none of them mean anything.
I'm not sure how he knew that.
I'm not sure why he said it.
I hope it has nothing to do with Roman.
But if it does, I'm sorry Roman thinks I'm a snob, 'cause I think he's a rather alright guy.
We called it an early night at about 12:30am, because we were definitely among the oldest people on the patio. As we exited, I remarked I couldn't remember where I'd parked. A kindly young gentleman in the parking lot suggested helpfully that I "lay off the crack". Him and his friend then proceded to open all four doors of a vehicle in their vincinity. I believed it to be their vehicle, until they remarked that people are rather silly for leaving their car doors unlocked. They then found another unlocked vehicle, and opened all of it's doors. And so on. Ad nauseum.
I got into my (up until then) locked car, and drove off sighing, "Oh, to be 17 again".
But then I remembered that when I was seventeen, I sat at home and watched "America's Funniest Home Videos" with my parents on Friday nights, and so I just promised myself that I'd remind myself that B'NE's just isn't for me next time around.
posted by captain obvious at 12:06 p.m.
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