Midnight Memories (A One Direction Tribute)*

When I was a young child I was friends with the boy down the street who put ants down his pants. I don’t remember his name, but I vividly remember sitting on the sidewalk of our street with him and another girl, an older girl who took ballet classes and who tried to teach me to stand up without using my hands, a skill, I am pleased to report, I still have not mastered to this day. I would pass out grapes on the tiny plastic plates that came with my play picnic basket and then he would get up and walk to the “garden” (it was a city so, like, not a real garden, but that’s not actually super important) and he’d pull out the waistband of his shorts and he’d put ants down his pants, underwear and all, because he liked how it felt and he never let me see, so I guess for that at least I am grateful because just imagine how many more issues I would have.

I also have a vague memory of his mother leaning out the front door and yelling “don’t put any ants down your pants!” But I could have made that up. That might be adult-me putting some parental guidance into this situation because seriously, what must she have thought every night when he changed for bed or took a bath? Like, where are all these ants coming from, oh, right, I see now.

Not sure why I was thinking about this, must be the humidity, the scent of summer storms, the anthill I saw this weekend. Who even knows. The scent of dirt also takes me back to my early summers and my backyard and screaming because my dad tried to force me to put my face in water of my kiddie pool. I still don’t like to put my face in water. I’m afraid I’ll get too much water in my nose and drown. Like, just while standing in my bathroom. This was a really great fear to have while I worked at summer camp and I was like, “I’ll do anything but swim camp” and they were like, “We want to stretch you!” and they gave me THE swimming camp that summer and I, at age 20, had to tell 12-year-old campers that if they were on my team during races we would always lose because I couldn’t swim with my face in the water.

*This is not a One Direction tribute, I just wanted to see how many views I would get if I said that.

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Just Some Thursday Thoughts

I think a real, honest moment-of-awakening for me in my life came when I was in junior high and reading some sort of unauthorized biography about the cast of 90210 (the original, because I’m old). I remember in a chapter about Shannen Doherty the actress was quoted as saying that she didn’t like her eyes because they were asymmetrical and I remember thinking, like, omg, even celebrities have insecurities! This moment was extremely important to me and I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately because my eyes are also asymmetrical and seem to be going more so as I age, to the point where I’m sure that in about 15 years or so I may not even have a right eye. It may close up and be sucked into my face. This is a genuine concern. A thought that plagues me daily. And since sometimes my eye seems normal I think it’s probably swollen from allergies. But I still worry. Imagine waking up one day and your eye now looks like a belly button on your face! And I don’t like belly buttons. They freak me out. I have never gotten over the fear that mine will come untied and I will deflate. Imagine that but happening ON MY FACE.

These are just some things that I think about on  a regular basis. Like, why is grass green and why is the sky blue and what happens if I deflate or my eye disappears and is my hair falling out and aren’t clouds like the weirdest things ever, how they just in the sky and don’t fall out but sometimes they release water? Like, that’s gotta get heavy and they just stay up there. Also planets and stars and the sun and the moon and science is really hard.

Sometimes stars explode, which is the opposite of deflate. The ones in the sky, not the ones who live in Hollywood. Although I guess you could argue what’s your definition of explode. Do you mean like literally or figuratively because that could change things. Once I read this article about a couple who died of contagious spontaneous combustion. All that was found of them were some ashes in two armchairs. It’s possible I made this up because I’ve never been able to find the article again but anything can happen. Especially in Florida.

Currently…

I stole this from Tabitha Martin, who stole it from other people and here we are because I make my own rules. It’s better than my “_____ that I ______ that I love,” which I stole from a now defunct Mindy Kaling blog but I don’t know how. It just is. So here are some things I am currently…

Loving

cherry-wedding-houston

Cherries. It’s almost summer so it’s almost cherry season and I ate like seven pounds of them last week. There is nothing I love more than popping cherries in my mouth.

Reading

THE MIRACLE GIRL by Andrew Roe, which is lovely and intriguing and a book I was SO excited about and I’m so glad it’s here. It’s about a girl with akinetic mutism (basically in an awake coma) and people believe she has healing vibes, like when they see Mary in grilled cheese and bleeding statues. It’s cultish phenomenon, which is my favorite thing.

I’m also reading POKING A DEAD FROG: CONVERSATIONS WITH TODAY’S TOP COMEDY WRITERS by Mike Sacks because I am going through an identity crisis and think this will help.

Watching

SiliconValley_S2_HBO.0.0

I am fully invested in Silicon Valley, which may be my current favorite show. The most recent episode had the greatest line that I keep thinking about re getting someone to realize how bad smoking is: “nobody ever died of second-hand heroin.”  I don’t know why I find that so hilarious. I am a bad person.

Listening To

HRD-josie-and-the-pussycats

Obsessed with Best Coast’s California Nights album because it’s this poppy girl lite-punk vibe that makes me think of Josie and the Pussycats. It’s been, like, thirteen years since I heard that soundtrack after I left it in a friend’s car and then never saw her again. I’ve been abandoned by people dropping me off and then never calling again an absurd amount of times is a thing I just realized now, but this was a different situation. I saw her, I just never got in her car again and she never gave me this CD back, and she also had my New Found Glory “From the Screen to Your Stereo: Part 1” album and now I’m pissed all over again. Actually, I think the Josie CD was hers. Anyway. We used to drive around campus listening to it and rocking out and that’s what the Best Coast album reminds me of.

Thinking About

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. Also fame, fortune, and the American dream and also living someplace sunny and traveling.

Anticipating

plane

Getting on a plane next month and the various stops across the country. (Various means two….unless anyone wants a visitor! Speak now!) Anticipating in a good way. Mostly. I love flying but I won’t sleep on airplanes because I want to be awake should it start to go down. Like, I don’t want to wake up mid-crash and be like, “how did this happen??” I want to be able to say, “Oh, this must be because of that snap I heard when the wing fell off.” I also can’t sleep in cars for the same reason. I want to know why I’m upside down, should there be an event in which I am upside down.

Wishing

I don’t believe in wishing, per se, but I have HOPES and DREAMS and those hopes and dreams are mostly to do with writing and figuring out what I’m doing there and who I am as a person and as a writer and where I fit in the larger scheme of things and if I actually have the talent to do the things I dream about. Anyway, mostly I just sleep.

Making Me Happy

Warm weather and sunshine (but not today because it’s gross and rainy, but like in general, those are things that are making me happy. The IDEA of warm weather and sunshine.)

Aliens and Musicals and a Confession About The Nutcracker

Today on Twitter I was talking about this Christmas pageant I was in when I was in elementary school. It was about an alien named CT who traveled the world in a hot air balloon and went to different countries/cultures to find the true meaning of Christmas. I played CT. I borrowed a gray wool fedora from my aunt and I wore my favorite flower short overalls and I may have worn purple tights and I can see the cast picture. I was front and center in my shorteralls (is that a word? Now it’s a word) and my hat and my hands were folded on my belly because I was so pleased with myself and I had huge pink, plastic frame glasses and a perm. I remember this. But every time I go to Google to find this play I wind up on scientology websites.

There is a play about an alien named Zorg, but that is not my play. That play is different. My name was CT and it stood for something and it is driving me INSANE. I may have made up the part about the hot air balloon. I just really like hot air balloons and I’m probably going to go in one this summer and my life just feels really complete and amazing right now.

This memory stemmed, probably, from my recent viewings of Little Shop of Horrors and Rocky Horror Picture Show, both musicals about things from outer space with the word horror in the title. My Christmas play, which we performed in my church, did not have the word horror in the title. I remember that much for sure. Also, if anyone knows how to write music I’m super into the idea of writing a musical about a creature from outer space. I’ve never written a musical, but I’m sure it can’t be hard. Writing is so easy! All writing! I can do anything!

I think I’m gonna go with this alien in a hot air balloon, though. So only contact me if you’re interested in writing about aliens on Earth in hot air balloons, but we can take out the Christmas part. No need to be seasonally specific. But each country will have a different style of music, so you have to be, like, SUPER talented. It will be like in The Nutcracker when Spain is sexy coffee and Russia is candy canes and there’s the guy in drag with children under his giant skirt, but ours will be better because The Nutcracker FREAKS ME OUT. There is a mouse with SIX HEADS. I watched the Macauley Culkin version this past Christmas and a four-year-old was like, “the mouse has six heads” and I was like, “ha ha, okay, you’re so silly!” but then the freaking mouse had six heads and children lived in a skirt and coffee was seductive. Okay. The coffee thing I sort of get, but the rest is a mess.

Anyway. I’m gonna eat some mini marshmallows and call it a night.