lost in the sandbox

how do you make friends as an adult?

coz i need more/better/new ones.
not that theres anything wrong with the ones i’ve got – i love them all truly, madly, deeply. but as is the course of friendships- you become friends because of shared interests and remain friends because of shared history. you know what you are going to GET with your peeps and thats what makes them YOURS.

knowing them as i do, i know the majority of mine arent going to want to go barhopping on a sunday night no matter how hard i beg. which is why i find myself writing a memorial to my social life. not of a year ago when i was a swinging single. nay. of about 25 years ago when i was in pre school and the easiest way to make a new friend was to plop down beside them in the sandbox and show them that you, too, liked to make gourmet  meals from play doh and it was game ON from there on out.

girl eating sand

sea food.

things ain’t that simple no more. majority of my friends now are in various relationship stages that are not conducive to stone chillin’ saturday nights as in the days of old. they’re either

A:coupled up – so do married type things on the weekend like antiquing upstate, or visiting their special person’s parents for long weekends on lumpy twin beds.

couple on twin bed retro black and white

"...but grandma's right next door."

or hang out with other couples who are married or married-like and talk about antiquing  trips upstate with the parents.

or B:  newly coupled-  which means they spend their entire weekend in bed discovering all the fascinating quirks about their partner that will annoy the shit out of them in 7 months but that at the moment they find adorable, or telling stories about things they did in junior high and drinking each others sweat.

couple on bed

can't blame 'em

until they come up for air there’s really  no room for a third in that party.

and the last group, the dying breed, i was the local chapter president of for longer than i remember –can’t hang out on weekends because they are

C:single and mingling.

party girl

what? olives are vegetables -- so this is heathy.

which means roughly a year ago today i was most likely drunk, doing something mildly inappropriate with someone who’s last name i didn’t know then and first name i can’t remember now. (ok. or home happily reading a book) either way, a complete 180 from tonight, where i bedrugingly took off my party clothes at 11pm and told myself I need to get a jump start on tomorrow’s work. which brings me back around to my original lament. where, as an adult do you make new friends? its not like picking up fruit (or tricks) in the supermarket, or books (or tricks) in the bookstore.

if you lean over to the interesting looking girl sitting next to you on the subway reading the fountainhead on her ipad (only after checking to see if her thick frame black glasses actually had a perscription in the lens. (score! they do. proceed) and ask her where she got that obviously eco-friendly backpack… she’s going to think you’re cruising her.

girl w glasses reading

mind yours.

aaaaaaand a year ago she would have been right.
or, when you’re at your local organic coffee place and that guy with the bike and the yogamat and the vintage sneakers saunters in blasting something out of his beats by dre that sounds kinda like starwars meets r&b meets 80s; if you grab him before he takes his soy latte to-go in order to ask what is he listening to and does he know if they touring locally? he’s going to think you are cruising him. aaaaaaaaaand again, a year ago he would have ended up as that fuck  friend you dont remember from last summer  and therefore he would have been right.

pharrell with bike

mind yours.

so whats a girl to do?
join professional clubs, do charity, get involved with your community, take a class?  could find tons of people with shared interest and you’ll have reasons to talk to them eliminating the awkward “hello” and the tamping down the automatic response of trying to formulate a meet-cute when all you want to do is find someone to talk about how much you still miss LOST.

lost on tv screen two sodas

one for me. one for the polar bear

and then what happens when it comes down to the main nerve-wracking event part where you exchange numbers – how do you ask someone out on a friend date without feeling date-like?

couple on date

im not on a date. are you on a date?

how do you cruise for platonic friends?

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thimble kisses and IRAs

peter pan in the window

“second star to the right, and straight on ’til retirement!”

How does one become an adult, and when did I miss the memo?

Does the transition take place– overnight in your sleep? You just wake up one morning having busted through your footie-pajamas like the Incredible Hulk; with a savings account and a prescription to Viagra in your nightstand?

The other day a dear friend of mine – who I usually, infallibly am on the same wavelength with- told me she has an IRA.

WHAAAA?

I was flummoxed, flabbergasted and, truth be told,  kind of embarrassed for myself. I realize that having an IRA is a pretty standard and responsible practice but it had never even crossed my mind as a thing that should be put on the short list. Ever.

Granted, some of our peers have started businesses and families and gotten married– but the having-an-IRA-thing knocked me over because it was such a foreign concept. (I had to google the acronym to be perfectly honest.) And to have it ‘happen’ to someone so close to me: ‘Et tu, Brute’

e tu, brute?

“i come to bury caesar, not to help him capitalise on his existing accounts”

Kids- or those who were once kids with me-  are left right and all around wearing sweater vests, remodeling kitchens and installing  car seats into their minivans;  and I’m over here  chasing shadows, giving thimble kisses and sitting at the grown-ups table wearing a tunic made of leaves.

I’m always bitching about immature boy-men trying to date me — but maybe I’m attracting them because I’m Peter-Panning myself. There may be something to this growing up thing after all… but Im unconvinced that I’ll invest.


journal pull 8/ 17: enter the weasel

Remember MTV era Pauly Shore?

buuuuuuuuuuuuuu- dy

buuuuuuuuuuuuuu- dy

Here is where I would want to say I was easily amused as a kid –but I bet you a pair of acid washed jeans* that if Encino Man came on right this very minute I would watch with rapt attention.

My friends and I really thought it would bethe raddest thing ever to unearth, defrost and befriend an iceman at some point in high school.

Which one is the the cave man?

Which one is the the cave man?

Obviously, in real life he would have disentergrated by 2nd period. But that didnt stop us from digging up the backyard.

*That’s a good deal too. Apparently acid washed jeans are making an unironiccomeback**.

acid washed jeans

have i seen you somewhere before?

**is it not hipster but just tragic that really bad fashion is making an unironic comeback? (bc if the people rocking them on the subway next to me  don’t remember them from the first time its unfortunate and unironic)  hipster kids do it to be  all retrofutureirony or whatever but still… mainstream acid washed jeans? Again?

I am expecting hair metal aaaaaany day now.

THIS plus THIS: me as a kid

Thinking about The Cosby Show and Lisa Bonet  and Denise, Vanessa and Rudy made me think about what I was like as a kid. Kind of like the game I like to play “Who Would Play You in a Movie of Your Life?”  which led to the other game I like called THIS plus THIS.

Me as a tween equaled THIS plus THIS:

 

measakid

Yep. Pretty much.

 

Take one pair of Doc Maartens added to a base of  Catholic school uniform. Douse liberally with a mixture made before hand of equal parts sarcasm and precociousness. Stir.  Season with secret readings of Jackie Collins novels to taste. Add high perscription glasses as garnish.

i want lisa bonet to be my life coach

lisa bonet

professor bonet/moon

I want to take a self-improvement course with Lisa Bonet as life coach.  Anybody who has been wedded to or life-partnered by both Lenny Kravitz AND Jason Momoa needs to teach a  class.

Anybody who has been wedded to or life-partnered by both Lenny AND Jason and can have them both whipped   hypnotized   blasted on peyote or some other natural yet eclectic hallucinogenic  on good terms off the strength of her abilty to make any scenario in which she is involved infintely cooler needs to teach a class, write two books  with diagrams and quizzes and  have a motivational speaking tour.

She makes things like this happen.

She makes things like this happen.

She’s bohemian, creative, mysterious, independent and gorgeous — all the top things that I had on my ‘when i grow up list’. Controversally (at the time) nude in a film as opposed to the more popular and timely naked on the internets via cameraphone, she’s famous for the body of work that she’s done and not for getting out of limos with no panties on unlike  so many other actresses who grew up on camera. Not that I am assuming that shes never participated in ‘crazy hollywood’ behavior. She’s just better at keeping it underwraps. Managing how to do that could be a class on its own.

lisa bonet yoge

obviously she is skillful at amazing feats of balance

When she randomly pops up in some big buget movie or prime time TV show its like a blip. Its like peripherally seeing a ghost. You say- “hey wasn’t that-?” but then she’s gone before you can finish the sentence.

She was  everyone’s favorite Huxtable  kid. And A Different World lost more than a little when she left. Whitley Gilbert was not an acceptable stand in, IMO.

Nice Try.

(sidenote: You can just tell Whitley Gilbert was like a third generation Jack &Jill kid. Does that make me jealous? A little bit.)

(sidenote: I’m wearing the  skirt she has on right now.)

Anyway, this How To Win At Life class would probably be taught somewhere kind of like the  Learning Annex,  keeping it accessable because Professor Bonet/Moon (in my head) seems like the kind of person that would want to empower the masses.  There would be field trips to visit practicing shamans and to planetariums  and to local artisans who would give a lesson on how to make our own hand tooled (vegan) leather knapsacks and jewellry.

Vanessa Paredis would be a guest lecturer. Angelina Jolie would  come too, but she’s in a helicopter working on the syllabus for her own class next semester.

When I was just a lower case k, we used to play the Lets Pretend to be Characters from that Popular TV Show game.  When we played Brady Bunch I had to be Jan. If we were playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles I had to be  Irma.  And that tells you everything you need to know about me as a kid.  I understood my role in society and in the afterschool game hierarchy.I accepted it. But if it was The Cosby Show day it was game ON. I didn’t care who I was in life currently I was practicing for who I was going to be.

And technically, I was more a ‘Rudy’ (precocious, borderline annoying, youngest sibling that the older kids alternately ingored, treated like a pet, or tried to force feed non-food objects)  than a ‘Denise’ (bohemian helion whose parents knew  was smoking weed upstairs but were too tired from life to ask about it). And as  I grew, I became more of a ‘Vanessa’ type teen (awkwardly trying to emmulate what they saw the older kids doing before they all took off for places unknown like ‘college’ or ‘overseas’ or ‘band roadie’ but was about seven-to-ten years too late. Like a Deadhead anytime after… well, ever.)

Happily, I’ve gotten my life more evened out now. I think I’ve come into my own a little bit more from thinking asymmetrical haircuts were cool, (technically seven years too early).  I’m doing my own thing. But I truly think my life would  benefit- the world would benefit from a signed copy of the take home manual and audio lecture  on CD.

ich liebe dich, doggie

I was a weird kid growing up.

Weird in the things I liked and weird in the very specific things I wanted to accomplish as an adult. Like dogs, for example.

Ok, sure. Most kids want dogs.
And true, most kids have fantastic ideas of their far-off impending adulthood.
Stick with me here—

First (ignoring for a moment the fact that I am a city person), I was going to move to Long Island.
Still here?
Then I would be able to get two Doberman pinscher dogs and they would have a big yard to run around in.
Not weird yet, right?

Having the large country house was a double necessity.
Dobermans are larger dogs.
Large dogs make large poop.
With a great big yard I imagined I could teach them to just bury the poop on the property (somewhere that the lawn wasn’t as aggressively manicured) so that way I could have the dogs and not the unsightly, squishy, smelly mess.

Pssst. Im about to drop a load of biscuits behind the hydrangeas.

"Pssst. I'm about to drop a load of biscuits behind the hydrangeas."

In this imaginary mini manse out on Long Island, (next to Gatsby?)
I’d have one girl dog and one boy dog. And name them Van and Tai respectively.

(sidenote: I know currently the more popular ‘purse dog’ is on trend and that makes sense to me, too. If you really love your dog you want to take it everywhere with you to annoy people. I had that base covered then also. Eventually I would add a third dog to this growing menagerie– a mini pinscher. No name as of yet )

Anyway, the dogs are obviously a homage to Vanity and Taimak – the stars of the 80’s cult classic The Last Dragon.

They look adorable in rhinestone collars.

They look adorable in rhinestone collars.

So my relatively small self wanted to grow up and have these two stereotypically big snarly mean ass dogs. And train them to attack on command. In German.
Seriously.

As a kid I really wanted to learn to speak German.
Hopefully fluently but specifically and originally just to talk to my dogs.I wasn’t a Bavarian fanatic (altho’ I still have a prediliction towards German engineerd cars) But on the subject of my future canines in my mind it only made sense.

If you are training someone it would just seem easier to relate to them in their language of origin. It’s the same reason all your instruction manuals are written in a thousand languages regardless of the country you bought them in.
Obviously the Dobermann was first developed in Germany, and out of respect for the rich history of the breed (not so much the scaier history of the people) I wanted to communicate with my dogs in the language that they would inherently understand.
And teach them to attack people on command.
(sidenote: I watched musicals alot as a kid. I think the German/dogs thing may have originated with constant rewatching of the Sound of Music.)
I also wanted to be a pirate, a ballernia, a lounge singer or a Thundercat.
The dog business would have worked out in all cases. Except fot the Thundercats. Alpha-Dogs and Alpha-Cartoon-Cats probably wouldn’t get along.