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Saturday, July 7, 2012

The Third Variable: Time & Friendship

Friends, who needs them?

    Here I was thinking that I had dumped this poor kid Manny all those years ago, that I had ruptured his ego and underneath that player facade was the sweet (if I a little creepy) boy I had known in the lifetime ago of middle school.

Well, APPARENTLY I was mistaken, because the cocky and infinitesimally self absorbed creature that stood adjacent to me was not in fact, Manny the Muncher. He was, low and behold, Matthew (can you believe I never knew his name) the ASS, who’s gifts ranged from baby making to heart breaking, and every other pursuit in between.

Suffice is to say that people aren’t stories and they aren’t fictional.

    Take this moment for example.
If my life was somehow an elaborate story, then at this moment Manny or I would say something witty, followed by a laugh. We would then hug tightly and reflect on all our happy days in the younger years.
    After our friendship was rekindled, Manny and I would continue to  persue or relationship until one day - oh wonder of wonders - we kissed (he kisses me) and then we get married yada yada yada......

Only I don’t speak, and my  eyes never leave his.

His eyes wander away until he’s looking directly behind me, and I flip around to find this ridiculously pretty blonde chick standing behind me in a -cough cough- revealing outfit.

Can anyone say A-W-K-W-A-R-D?



“Um... do you mind?”


His voice echoed through the caverns of the Point, bouncing and vibrating in the air until it returned in a shadowy, ghost-like form.

There was an expression of utter annoyance in his stance, as if somehow, I was the one who a had just single handedly (well, with a little help from the chick) demolished all good memory I had ever had of our ‘friendship.

It didn’t help that he was, at that moment, unbelievably attractive.

It seems to me that Manny-boy here had a little work done, or had he always had such effervescent hair? Was his face always so angelic? His mop of pimples (The Rash we had nicknamed it) had faded away, leaving smooth tanned skin behind it.

Needless, to say, the kid was hot.

To make a not-so-long story immensely shorter I was kicked out of The Point and The Point.

   
    I never plan to return.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

The Second Variable: Thought

So there’s this kid I used to know. For all intents and purposes, let’s refer to him as ‘Manny.’ Now, when I was around ten or eleven, this kid Manny used to follow my around school like a rodent. Literally. When looking for me, one could always count on .”Manny the Muncher” to be close behind on my heel. This remained cute for about 3 months, and then I decided that my ‘social life’ was going through a ‘ recession’ because of Manny’s ‘friendship.’ At least, that’s what I told Manny when I broke the news to him, poor kid.

Now, I bring this up because Manny has recently become very popular amongst the ladies, and it’s got me wondering what exactly I’d given up way back in the Stone Age of the 6th grade.

I guess what brought this on was seeing him on Thursday by The Point by The Point.

This is something that I probably should have explained in more detail, but basically The Point by The Point is a special spot that only a couple people know about, which is located within a more popular  area named The Point.

Anyway, all the kids who don’t listen to the radio usually sit around there and act depressed, but on this particular Thursday no one was around. I guess everyone besides me was feeling pretty good.

Walking along the rocky waters, I’m getting a grasp of life and figuring out the purpose of my existence when I hear this INSANE bird squeaking away like it’s singing or something.

I’m not sure how to feel about this. On one hand, I want to strangle this bird because how dare it interrupt my soul searching thoughts. Then again, the Universe might possibly be trying to communicate a message to me my sending down this possessed creature to lead me to a life of peace. Like in the lion king. Hukuna ma tata and such.

All this thinking is depressing, but I’m not sure why,  which is also depressing, so I sit down before I completely baffle myself and end up leaving worse than I was before.

I sit there trying not to think and be so utterly arcane, which as you can imagine is quite difficult for me, so imagine my surprise to see non other than Manny standing right infront of me. As if he had been summoned by my mere thoughts, as he had been all those years ago.

But yeah, it was a real ‘kick in the teeth.’

(La La)

Monday, May 7, 2012

The First Variable: Life

Life is a social experiment gone wrong, and I don’t know who to blame.

Maybe it’s my parents’ fault, or maybe the Universe, or maybe God. Maybe those all are the same thing in some mystical, syfy way that  can’t be understood. All that matters is that in a couple of seconds my mother is about to humiliate me beyond repair, and I can’t stop her because society has decided it would be rude.
               Let us pray.
                               ~ Mental Note (La La)

People like to assume that I actually care about their lives. For once and for all, let me set the matter straight. I do not care whatsoever. Though I might conform to societies wishes and portray myself as nice, easygoing, likable girl, I am actually disgusted with ninety-ninety percent of people I come into contact with.
               Lets take Marty Fits for example. Here is what might be considered a decent human being. At first, second, and third glance, he seems to be a decent –and I quote my parents – “young man.” Yes, it is true that everything in his dress, air, and manner are pleasing. That is until you get in his business. Take me for example. An innocent bystander, walking down the halls, when suddenly I over hear what might potentially be a very juicy fight.
It is my God and Constitutional right (which one should I place first? Just a thought) to walk where  I may, and neither rain nor government nor angry teenager (oh my!) will get in my way.
“I need it now! I have to met with these Stupid parents today and I can’t function without it,” says the voice of the infamous, the loved, Marty Fits.
Who wouldn’t investigate further?
I sneak into the abandoned hall, and creep behind the door.

“No cash no stuff. That's the deal.”
This eloquent speech is followed by a bang and a string of curse words (I figure I won’t say them if I don’t write them). Figuring this was the time to make my exit, I slowly back away from the door. I am usually a very stealthy person, so it must’ve been some sketchy fate that a trash can magically appeared behind me.
“What the…?” The magically Marty crashed through the front door. I was frozen in mid squat, sinking deeper and deeper into the floor with each nano second.

Now, in thinking back, maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but in my defense…
What’s a girl to do?


       Like I said, life is a social experiment gone wrong.

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