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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.


( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
May. 8th, 2002 07:36 am (UTC)
Vahak Medazdorian is a super-cool name. He sounds like a latter-day east-european warlord.
May. 8th, 2002 07:44 am (UTC)
Once I tried to kiss some boy, and I don't know how this happened, but we bashed our teeth together, and he cried out in pain and said "OW I have sensitive teeth!", and got out of the car holding his mouth. And that was the end of the night. I'm gonna say it was his fault and NOT mine, because I had way more experience than him, and I've never even come close to 'bashing teeth' with anyone else.
May. 8th, 2002 08:29 am (UTC)
You seriously need to kiss someone with an even moderately normal name. Like "Pete Brown" or something.
May. 8th, 2002 08:40 am (UTC)
Dude, I have larger lips, right? The first kid I ever kissed had really huge ones. It was so sloppy and great.
May. 8th, 2002 02:04 pm (UTC)
Strangely enough, until I followed that link I never realized that "Nerd Camp" was the Johns Hopkins' CTY program. I was going to go to that, but not being from an affluent North Jersey suburb, had to be content with the local "Space Science Camp" at Blackwood U. Which actually was pretty good, but not nearly as cool as full-fledged Nerd Camp.
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )

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