Hot Dips (littlewashu) wrote,
Hot Dips

True Love

This past weekend I drove up to R.I.T. with my moms to visit Fatboy. That's 100 miles to the folks', 300 miles from there to the school in Rochester, New York. Gah, that's a lot of driving for one three-day weekend. I mean it's not INSANE and certainly it's been DONE BEFORE, but still, more driving than I've done in a while.

First off, let me mention my complete amazement at the quantity, size, and goop volume of the bugs we collected on the windshield on the way home. Holy crap.

Secondly, driving a shiny newish Pathfinder (my mom's) is kind of cool. You go so fast without noticing! Is it because you're sitting up higher, so you can see farther down the road?

Thirdly, okay. Ever since I was really young, and stuck in the back of the car, driving back to Queens to see Grandma, or to see other relatives, or whatever, I've always wanted to "meet" someone on the highway. Our car would happen to slowly be overtaken by another car, and in the backseat would be Some Boy, and our eyes would meet, and we would fall in love, right then and there. I'm in the driver's seat now, but man, same dream. Unfortunately, I did not fall in love on the way to nor the trip from Rochester. Oh woe.

So see? I'm a hopeless romantic after all. At Lollapalooza -- gosh, I don't know, '93? The one with Arrested Development, and Alice in Chains, and Primus. That was my first concert. At Lollapalooza, I was walking back to the stage area, alongside the food area, and there was a boy walking the other way, eating something, and he looked up and I looked up and our eyes met for an instant, like THAT. And we both kept walking. Someday I'll be dating a boy, and the subject of Lollapalooza will come up, and it'll turn out that he was there that year, at Randall's Island, and I'll mention this moment, and his eyes will grow wide with recognition, and then we'll Know, and get married and live happily ever after.

The other day I was talking to counterfeitfake in a "chatting" fashion and I was discussing Nerd Camp, and I said I had my first kiss there, when I was fourteen, Ryan Velo-Simpson, and he (counterfeitfake, not Ryan Velo-Simpson) said "WHOA", and then I remembered that Ryan (like counterfeitfake) had lived in Washington, and get this, he knew the kid! How remarkable is THAT? He kissed awful, too. Ryan, not counterfeitfake. I cannot speak for counterfeitfake's kissing abilities. He (Ryan) didn't move his mouth open and closed, he just held it open and moved his tongue around. And I didn't know! I figured that's the way it was done! I figured all the kissing like they do on soap operas was fake! Man, it made me TOTALLY screw up my second kiss, because I thought I knew what I was doing, and I totally didn't. Vahak Medzadorian was rather confused. We were under the bleachers.

  • credit

    I do so few things correctly that I always get really pissy when I don't get credit for the stuff I DO accomplish.

  • (no subject)

    The guy that worked in the office behind me, and listened to Christian pop music all day, quit a week or two ago. So I don't have to listen to…

  • (no subject)

    I call my boss "boss." What do you call your boss?

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