I found my best friend in the direst of circumstances. In a layer of hell that Dante couldn’t even fathom. She was the light in the darkest of dark abysses an awkward freshman could ever imagine even existed. PE. . . . PE was the killer of all coolness. No matter how hard I worked... Continue Reading →
Most of what I really need to know about life, love and waterbeds, I learned on LSD. Books are neat and everything, but I’ve learned more tripping balls in outer galaxies to Bauhaus than I ever have cuddling up with a novel with some random orange cat. Seriously, whose cat is this? Triplog: Stardate, Tuesday,... Continue Reading →
It was so curious how she was always her weirdo self, yet was pretty popular in the Goth crowd. It reminded me of school – I had to study for hours to get an A on a test, while my friends would barely study and ace it. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I practiced my serious face for hours in the mirror only to be dragged around the club by Bill the Cat.
Hello amazing readers! I am going on Sabbatical because I've always wanted to say that and it sounds way more cool than I need to make some money. But don't despair, I'm going to actually get paid to write. It's just not about teenage sex and drugs. This blog is my soul. On a platter.... Continue Reading →
It was time to shop for a new, rad friend. A boss. One who would propel me to new social heights. And she had to be Goth; I made up my mind that my future was going to be black. Oh, and it was. Just wait. I met my best friend Sandy where the smokers... Continue Reading →
The only fear in love for me was and still is regret. I offered her my pound of flesh. It was hers for the taking. If she rejected me, then at least I wouldn’t regret not showing her all of me. Heartbreak is a painful enough event without bringing feelings of regret into the ring.
Brie recounted her conversation with Ethan approximately 453 times on the car ride home. So many times that I still remember every word. Here's how it went down: Brie walked right up to Ethan, cigarette between her moisturized and cuticle-free fingers. "Can I get a light?" "Sorry." Awkward moment. Ethan wiped his coked up nose... Continue Reading →
Brie hated smoking. She thought it was gross. Whenever she caught me smoking, she'd pluck it out of my lips and stomp it out. Thankfully I smoked generics. I tried and tried to convince her that smoking was trés chic. I pointed out smoking in the French films we watched together. Johnny Depp from “21 Jump... Continue Reading →
The only thing I thought of when Brie said "let's go clubbing" was how much I loved baby harp seals and how she found the one thing I wouldn't do to win her love. "Huh?" "The Premier. Everyone's going. It's tres chic." Yes, we overused the term. We were branding trailblazers. The Premier was a... Continue Reading →
I was single. Sex was awful and my last hope for a boyfriend almost ate my face off. There were no prospects on the horizon, until... Brie was in 8th grade at Sparks Middle, but we still spent every weekend together on her dad's 80-acre horse ranch. I originally took Brie under my wing to save her... Continue Reading →
After about a month of whining, I finally coerced Marie to go off-campus for lunch. As we rounded the corner of Great Western Bank, I spied a cute Filipino guy wearing crazy pants, a red bandana and Oakley’s sitting all alone on what most definitely was the largest boombox in the great state of Nevada.
During my epic summer between 7th and 8th grade, besides turning into a lobster, my mom dragged me along to help install her artwork in a gallery in Salt Lake City. Did I mention my mom was an artist (still is) and I was her slave labor? Yes, I learned to crawl under an A-Frame at the Polk... Continue Reading →
Sandy and I heard the sure fire way to be deemed losers in high school was to still be virgins. In hindsight, this reasoning had a few holes – no pun intended. I imagined a virginity checkpoint that all freshmen had to pass through before even being allowed to go to homeroom. We'd have to drop... Continue Reading →
The spring of my eighth grade year was the stuff of John Hughes movies. That is, if John Hughes movies took place in lame-ass towns with mostly unattractive people. I spent most weekends on Brie’s father's 80-acre ranch riding horses and falling in and out of love with her. I had to protect my Inner... Continue Reading →
It was clear that I was never going to fit in at Sparks Middle, so I quit trying to fit in. I turned 12 in November and being that much closer to 13 gave me even more strength. I was practically a grown-up.
The level of sacrifice that these two evil girls endured to properly and efficiently humiliate my efforts of social evolution before the first bell rang was nothing short of impressive.
She appeared in the doorway wielding the knife and talking in fake demon talk. I’d spent a large portion of my childhood around crazy knife-wielding people, so I didn’t even budge.
I started to understand. A tan wasn’t just a good look, it was a way-of-life, a religion. And I was about to become a card-carrying member.