You remember in middle school- those first couple crushes you had that just made you fucking nuts?
Maybe you were one of the fortunate people who actually didn't get rejected by that person. If you were, you should probably stop reading. You won't get the rest of this entry. I love you, but if you don't have that nasty thirteen-year-old heartbreak inside of you, you will probably just write this off as silly and flowery and emo. And I simply can't have that. You see, I'm wildly intelligent, witty and articulate and you're not getting any reason to think otherwise outta me, nosirreebob.
So anyway, back to my point. If you're like me, you can narrow your childhood unrequited love tragedies down to a couple of people. Do you remember how they made you feel? You could scarcely think their name without your heart reaching a fist up to your brain and clocking it, good and square in the emotion-maker. You were so young, so not suave, so stupid with your heart, and so foolish that it was all you ever thought about- and when you weren't thinking about it and it came back to you and you realized that you had stopped concentrating on it for even thirty seconds your heart sank because you thought the power of positive thinking was all you had going for you. There really aren't words for any of this stuff.
What if you felt this way as an adult?
What if every time you found yourself interested in someone they just melted your face off with their looks, their voice, their smell, their kindness, their talents, their cute little fucking shoes... UGH. How would you perform daily tasks? How would you deal with being an adult in the world with them?
And then what if they kissed you? Not just a silly drunk kiss, but the kind that you're not entirely sure is okay until it's already happening- then it is happening and it's so good. Then you realize that they're happy, too! They pull you closer, press harder and give you more of themself because they want to. But then it ends?
How do you cope then? Actually, really really easily... there's so much less confusion. Because nothing has changed in the world except that you're able to think about something else. You can meet other people, go on dates, maybe fall in love. But you've gotten that crazy out of you, so you're able to do it with a more sound mind and grateful spirit. And yeah, every once in a while you can remember it and let your heart flutter for a couple seconds as you swoon, but it's over. You're free. You don't have to wonder or fake it or try and forget any more.
My theory is this: that ridiculous feeling? It isn't love. It's just one of those stupid landmark-type things we all need to do. Like falling off a bike, or getting a cavity filled, or puking your eyeballs out because you drank too much vanilla smirnoff and orange sodas. You do it, you remember it forever and you know how to move on. Now aren't you lucky?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, October 8, 2010
in the wild
You know the scene in Mean Girls where Regina George is dangling Aaron Samuels in front of Cady by saying "Tell him his hair looks sexy pushed back..." and Cady imagines tackling Regina like a cheetah or some other manner of big cat and starts a jungle brawl in the cafeteria?
That's what it's like when I see this dude. Let's call him... "Tranny." The story behind our disdain for one another is irrelevant- all you need know is that we were close for many years and now aren't even facebook friends. srsly. totes a BFD.
Any-hweigh, I, as a rule am not generally a giant queen. I don't strut, I don't snap, I don't give people nasty looks, and generally don't subscribe to the notion that every gay man has a little black woman in him.
... at least I normally don't.
Picture this- Tranny walking one way down a hall, me the opposite (I look pretty great today as luck would have it.) We're a good fifteen seconds or so from each other and our eyes meet for the first time. Immediately, the following things happen:
The pulse quickens
The spine straightens
The pupils dilate and narrow
The eyebrows arch instantly into perfect upside-down Vs
My steps become more rhythmic- not slower or faster, but more purposeful
Luckily, I've remembered to keep my sunglasses tucked into the top button of my shirt and I take them and slip them over my eyes. Yes. I seriously did that.
Strut past, stare straight ahead.
RUN FOR YOUR MOOD STABILIZERS, IT'S THE WERECUNT!
That's what it's like when I see this dude. Let's call him... "Tranny." The story behind our disdain for one another is irrelevant- all you need know is that we were close for many years and now aren't even facebook friends. srsly. totes a BFD.
Any-hweigh, I, as a rule am not generally a giant queen. I don't strut, I don't snap, I don't give people nasty looks, and generally don't subscribe to the notion that every gay man has a little black woman in him.
... at least I normally don't.
Picture this- Tranny walking one way down a hall, me the opposite (I look pretty great today as luck would have it.) We're a good fifteen seconds or so from each other and our eyes meet for the first time. Immediately, the following things happen:
The pulse quickens
The spine straightens
The pupils dilate and narrow
The eyebrows arch instantly into perfect upside-down Vs
My steps become more rhythmic- not slower or faster, but more purposeful
Luckily, I've remembered to keep my sunglasses tucked into the top button of my shirt and I take them and slip them over my eyes. Yes. I seriously did that.
Strut past, stare straight ahead.
RUN FOR YOUR MOOD STABILIZERS, IT'S THE WERECUNT!
Thursday, September 16, 2010
impetus
so i have this class that i kind of love.
the professor's really passionate, the text is engaging, my classmates are smart and friendly... and the guy who sits across from me is quite possibly the love of my life.
as far as i can tell, he's pretty intelligent. so intelligent, in fact, that he shuts the hell up sometimes- but you can tell he's still listening. it's as if he were saying "i'm discerning whether or not i think this conversation is worth joining. i'll get back to you." but it doesn't come off as pretentious! that's the amazing part- he just wants to listen, sometimes! and when he does speak it's like he's only speaking to me... and when he looks up with those big, round eyes and his little side-smile it makes my heart flutter like damn hummingbird.
so, basically i'm pretty much guaranteed an A in this class. why, you ask? because i've never, in my life exhibited better qualities as a student than right now. This guy (let's call him jack) is a writing tutor, doesn't have a facebook page, enjoys twitter, comes to every class with a "naked" juice, combs his hair, wears a helmet when he rides his bike, and has the exact same hoodie as me (which he's worn two days in a row, now.) see? that's some serious studying! but beyond the fact that i'm somewhat pathetic and a stalker, there's the beneficial academic side-effects! let me lay down a few examples.
first off, i'm pretty smart. i don't generally need to work too hard to get good grades in my classes and i haven't encountered something that's ever really been beyond me- so i don't have to work very hard. for this class- i have done every bit of reading cover-to-cover, extra research, i've downloaded, printed and highlighted the powerpoint lectures before every class- i'm a total poindexter. why? to look good in front of jack!
we got paired together to extrapolate a little on the virtues of various social media in class- we had to discuss our topic before the class discussion and we got Twitter, at his request.
Jack: don't you just love twitter? i mean, sure it's new social media, which can be scary in and of itself but it's so fascinating! if you've got a question or want something to know you're looking for it, just put it up on Twitter and there it is!
Me: (I do have a twitter. i signed up for it in February of 2009. and I have signed in maybe 12 times. once was to wish Meryl Streep a happy birthday.) Oh, God i just love twitter! talk about a wealth of information! just an absolute FONT of knowledge, entertainment and resources! people just don't know!
Jack: Yeah, I deleted facebook as soon as my Mom added me. It just got too creepy.
Me: oh... hahaha yes, of course. (I'm friends with damn near my entire family on facebook. and the families of many of my friends.)
we grooved. we got along. and yesterday during the censorship debate i said "why don't parents just parent their damn children? i don't think that's too much to ask. and frankly, the idea of handing the responsibilities of parenting over to the government is nothing short of terrifying."
i looked over at him... and he was staring right at me, smiling, and nodding!
top. of. the. world.
sure, you can call me a child, desperate, even an intellectual skank. but goddamn if i don't get an A. so what if i can't remember the name of the professor? i will happily recite to you the exact dates of the civil suits that resulted in the ratings systems.
the professor's really passionate, the text is engaging, my classmates are smart and friendly... and the guy who sits across from me is quite possibly the love of my life.
as far as i can tell, he's pretty intelligent. so intelligent, in fact, that he shuts the hell up sometimes- but you can tell he's still listening. it's as if he were saying "i'm discerning whether or not i think this conversation is worth joining. i'll get back to you." but it doesn't come off as pretentious! that's the amazing part- he just wants to listen, sometimes! and when he does speak it's like he's only speaking to me... and when he looks up with those big, round eyes and his little side-smile it makes my heart flutter like damn hummingbird.
so, basically i'm pretty much guaranteed an A in this class. why, you ask? because i've never, in my life exhibited better qualities as a student than right now. This guy (let's call him jack) is a writing tutor, doesn't have a facebook page, enjoys twitter, comes to every class with a "naked" juice, combs his hair, wears a helmet when he rides his bike, and has the exact same hoodie as me (which he's worn two days in a row, now.) see? that's some serious studying! but beyond the fact that i'm somewhat pathetic and a stalker, there's the beneficial academic side-effects! let me lay down a few examples.
first off, i'm pretty smart. i don't generally need to work too hard to get good grades in my classes and i haven't encountered something that's ever really been beyond me- so i don't have to work very hard. for this class- i have done every bit of reading cover-to-cover, extra research, i've downloaded, printed and highlighted the powerpoint lectures before every class- i'm a total poindexter. why? to look good in front of jack!
we got paired together to extrapolate a little on the virtues of various social media in class- we had to discuss our topic before the class discussion and we got Twitter, at his request.
Jack: don't you just love twitter? i mean, sure it's new social media, which can be scary in and of itself but it's so fascinating! if you've got a question or want something to know you're looking for it, just put it up on Twitter and there it is!
Me: (I do have a twitter. i signed up for it in February of 2009. and I have signed in maybe 12 times. once was to wish Meryl Streep a happy birthday.) Oh, God i just love twitter! talk about a wealth of information! just an absolute FONT of knowledge, entertainment and resources! people just don't know!
Jack: Yeah, I deleted facebook as soon as my Mom added me. It just got too creepy.
Me: oh... hahaha yes, of course. (I'm friends with damn near my entire family on facebook. and the families of many of my friends.)
we grooved. we got along. and yesterday during the censorship debate i said "why don't parents just parent their damn children? i don't think that's too much to ask. and frankly, the idea of handing the responsibilities of parenting over to the government is nothing short of terrifying."
i looked over at him... and he was staring right at me, smiling, and nodding!
top. of. the. world.
sure, you can call me a child, desperate, even an intellectual skank. but goddamn if i don't get an A. so what if i can't remember the name of the professor? i will happily recite to you the exact dates of the civil suits that resulted in the ratings systems.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
stuff (annoying) people like
1) Walking up to a box office and asking for a parking pass
2) Walking through a turnstile at a busy train station and stopping immediately upon reaching the other side- so as to make you trip and drop your coffee- particularly effective when subject is small and carrying many, many bags... you know, for all their things. They need those things. For their day.
3) Not having any fucking idea what they're talking about (see fig. 1)
fig. 1
Woman approaches Box Office
WOMAN: I'd like to go the concert.
ATTENDANT: Of course, and which concert is that?
W: The one tonight.
A: There isn't a concert tonight.
W: Yeah, yeah that one.
A: I'm sorry, no, there is not a concert tonight.
W: But what about at like seven or seven thirty or something?
A: I'm sorry, no... there is no concert tonight. There is a concert tomorrow night, if that is what you're referring to.
W: No I need it to be tonight. Tomorrow I have plans.
4) Taking roughly four minutes to decide what to order at the Starbucks counter after having spent seven minutes in line. This may include asking the barista and/or cashier what they would recommend, NOT following that advice, and then just getting a tall coffee and smiling a faux apology to the line behind her, which now stretches out the door, down the block, across the street, into my apartment and onto my bed, where I have now missed out on a cumulative eleven minutes of sleep.
5) Not responding until you follow-up with them, asking if they would mind responding
6) Buying cheap boots with plastic heels that make that horrible, higher-sounding, vibrating, echoing clack on the linoleum and walking just lightly enough that the sound isn't one, solid noise but a split-second of those little vibrations, each one sounding different from the last.
2) Walking through a turnstile at a busy train station and stopping immediately upon reaching the other side- so as to make you trip and drop your coffee- particularly effective when subject is small and carrying many, many bags... you know, for all their things. They need those things. For their day.
3) Not having any fucking idea what they're talking about (see fig. 1)
fig. 1
Woman approaches Box Office
WOMAN: I'd like to go the concert.
ATTENDANT: Of course, and which concert is that?
W: The one tonight.
A: There isn't a concert tonight.
W: Yeah, yeah that one.
A: I'm sorry, no, there is not a concert tonight.
W: But what about at like seven or seven thirty or something?
A: I'm sorry, no... there is no concert tonight. There is a concert tomorrow night, if that is what you're referring to.
W: No I need it to be tonight. Tomorrow I have plans.
4) Taking roughly four minutes to decide what to order at the Starbucks counter after having spent seven minutes in line. This may include asking the barista and/or cashier what they would recommend, NOT following that advice, and then just getting a tall coffee and smiling a faux apology to the line behind her, which now stretches out the door, down the block, across the street, into my apartment and onto my bed, where I have now missed out on a cumulative eleven minutes of sleep.
5) Not responding until you follow-up with them, asking if they would mind responding
6) Buying cheap boots with plastic heels that make that horrible, higher-sounding, vibrating, echoing clack on the linoleum and walking just lightly enough that the sound isn't one, solid noise but a split-second of those little vibrations, each one sounding different from the last.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
flesh and blood
One summer afternoon, when I was about fifteen years old, I went to a party at the home of my Aunt and Uncle. They are the eldest of my Father's side of the family, and he also drinks the most heavily (Which is saying something considering the rest of the family.)
Anyway, he being a truck driver and me being... well by that point probably the president of my High School drama club, we never really had much to talk about. So some point in the course of the party finds the two of us alone in his backyard (which is sprawling, and populated by a large swimming pool, playground, fire pit, several garages and sheds, a grove of trees, and go-carts, complete with a course to race them around) when the following conversation ensues:
Uncle: Yeah, we're uh... planning a few more additions to the yard. For the kids, you know.
Me: Oh, sure. Like what? There's already lots of fun stuff, here.
Uncle: Just the necessities. Treehouse. Tire swing.
Me: Oh.
Uncle: Yep.
Me: Well that just sounds... fun.
Uncle: Sure does.
Me: Yep. (sips soda. nibbles potato salad.)
(long pause)
Uncle: We're thinking of putting in a hot tub, too.
Me: Oh yeah, wow! That's... that's really great.
Uncle: For your aunt. She needs more sex. She wants to have it in a hot tub.
Me:
Uncle: Yep.
Me:
Uncle: Goooootta have sex. (sips beer. handful of potato chips. walks inside.)
(Rest of life spent as a mere ghost of the man I would have been, had that conversation never happened.)
Anyway, he being a truck driver and me being... well by that point probably the president of my High School drama club, we never really had much to talk about. So some point in the course of the party finds the two of us alone in his backyard (which is sprawling, and populated by a large swimming pool, playground, fire pit, several garages and sheds, a grove of trees, and go-carts, complete with a course to race them around) when the following conversation ensues:
Uncle: Yeah, we're uh... planning a few more additions to the yard. For the kids, you know.
Me: Oh, sure. Like what? There's already lots of fun stuff, here.
Uncle: Just the necessities. Treehouse. Tire swing.
Me: Oh.
Uncle: Yep.
Me: Well that just sounds... fun.
Uncle: Sure does.
Me: Yep. (sips soda. nibbles potato salad.)
(long pause)
Uncle: We're thinking of putting in a hot tub, too.
Me: Oh yeah, wow! That's... that's really great.
Uncle: For your aunt. She needs more sex. She wants to have it in a hot tub.
Me:
Uncle: Yep.
Me:
Uncle: Goooootta have sex. (sips beer. handful of potato chips. walks inside.)
(Rest of life spent as a mere ghost of the man I would have been, had that conversation never happened.)
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
expectations
It's fun when not everything's predictable and boring. Take, for example, a bag of microwave popcorn- will the next piece you put in your mouth be a fluffy, tender morsel, all salty and buttery and delightful? Or will it be one of those stealthy little assholes- the kind that start out properly but once you bite a little deeper, you find is actually not entirely popped- and wants to break your teeth, weed-whack the roof of your mouth and remove your soul through that weird place at the back of your throat where it gets stuck for the next week?
If that's not the spice of life, then I'm doin' it wrong!
Every day there is an expectation waiting to be exceeded, or maybe not met at all. People make you feel great about yourself without saying a word, the train doesn't come when two should have passed already, your job is easier than you want, your family doesn't really miss you all the time the way they say they do, professors you hate remember you by your answer to an essay question, professors you adored make it all-too public what they think of you (which isn't much,) you happen to be looking out the stupid window when the same jerk you try EVERY day not to check out walks by three times within one hour (probably just to feed his ego) and snap your face back to your computer rapidly each time, praying you weren't noticed (though you were. that was the whole point.) The biggest idiot you've ever laid your hands on is apparently in some sort of relationship- which you don't care about because of any emotional attachment to said twerp, but because he, somehow is not alone and you are. Maybe he'll steal some tennis shoes from the guy he's seeing now, to match the $170 jacket he stole from you. You sit at work (clearly working your little fingers to the bone) and your boss just gives you some cherries- not because she's done with them, or can't finish them on her own, but because she likes them and thinks you should have some, too. And out of nowhere, you're whining to your blog and realize that all the things about today that are good or bad have something to with someone else. You remember that it might rain- and remember your umbrella (the cute one with the wooden handle) and that you actually remembered to grab it on the way out the door this morning and toss it into your new bag- the one people think looks like a diaper bag (it does, but it looks like a nice diaper bag.) you lean over, look out the window, and it isn't raining at all. the sun's out and its probably really muggy and gross and too hot and you won't need the umbrella, after all. But the sun is out. and you have such a cute umbrella. and you smell really good, today. your birthday is next week and you'll be 23 years old. over the years, you have, one by one, met each and every one of the coolest people in the entire world and wrestled and tricked them into being your circle of friends. your little brother has a learning disability. your mom doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up, though she's had a fairly successful career being creative and smart. the bitch that ended the life you'd been living up to a year ago just walked by holding the coffee cup that she once said was part of what defined her. you say goodbye to the person you have a silly crush on- and it's like you've had a stroke and are re-learning speech.
you go home for the day.
see? not the blog you were expecting to read.
If that's not the spice of life, then I'm doin' it wrong!
Every day there is an expectation waiting to be exceeded, or maybe not met at all. People make you feel great about yourself without saying a word, the train doesn't come when two should have passed already, your job is easier than you want, your family doesn't really miss you all the time the way they say they do, professors you hate remember you by your answer to an essay question, professors you adored make it all-too public what they think of you (which isn't much,) you happen to be looking out the stupid window when the same jerk you try EVERY day not to check out walks by three times within one hour (probably just to feed his ego) and snap your face back to your computer rapidly each time, praying you weren't noticed (though you were. that was the whole point.) The biggest idiot you've ever laid your hands on is apparently in some sort of relationship- which you don't care about because of any emotional attachment to said twerp, but because he, somehow is not alone and you are. Maybe he'll steal some tennis shoes from the guy he's seeing now, to match the $170 jacket he stole from you. You sit at work (clearly working your little fingers to the bone) and your boss just gives you some cherries- not because she's done with them, or can't finish them on her own, but because she likes them and thinks you should have some, too. And out of nowhere, you're whining to your blog and realize that all the things about today that are good or bad have something to with someone else. You remember that it might rain- and remember your umbrella (the cute one with the wooden handle) and that you actually remembered to grab it on the way out the door this morning and toss it into your new bag- the one people think looks like a diaper bag (it does, but it looks like a nice diaper bag.) you lean over, look out the window, and it isn't raining at all. the sun's out and its probably really muggy and gross and too hot and you won't need the umbrella, after all. But the sun is out. and you have such a cute umbrella. and you smell really good, today. your birthday is next week and you'll be 23 years old. over the years, you have, one by one, met each and every one of the coolest people in the entire world and wrestled and tricked them into being your circle of friends. your little brother has a learning disability. your mom doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up, though she's had a fairly successful career being creative and smart. the bitch that ended the life you'd been living up to a year ago just walked by holding the coffee cup that she once said was part of what defined her. you say goodbye to the person you have a silly crush on- and it's like you've had a stroke and are re-learning speech.
you go home for the day.
see? not the blog you were expecting to read.
Friday, April 23, 2010
innovative, trailblazing concepts.
I fancy myself a forward-thinker. I like to throw my support at new, exciting ideas and theories. After all, who else is going to go to bat for those wacky folks claiming the world is round? Why, just last week I offered a congratulatory high-five to a gentleman who NOT ONLY took the three dollars I gave him, but, in return, gave me a COFFEE! Can you imagine the adversity that man must face by being so modern as to accept monetary compensation for goods and services?!
It is for this reason, this... ardor for what some less considerate folks would refer to as "common sense" that I find myself in the customer service industry!
Most recently, I have been an advocate for a groundbreaking idea regarding the graduation ceremony at the esteemed university I work for. Seems those wacky event planners have decided to hold the ceremony OUTDOORS! Who would have thunk? It's my job to distribute the tickets to graduates for both themselves and their guests, as well as to acquaint them with our plans for the proceedings for that day (such as enter through a door, sign up at the appropriately labeled alphabetic table, sit in a chair with your peers, stand sometimes, sit sometimes... really complicated stuff!) However, as great as our graduates have been about accepting those difficult, scientific ideas, none have created such broad confusion as the fact that the ceremony is actually being held... out of doors! Not since the advent of the internal-spring auto-retracting window shade has such confusion been wrought!
These poor graduates... this time in their life is confusing enough without us throwing them such a curveball! Luckily, I am here to field their questions and confusions! Here is a log I have kept (for scientific records) of the various questions I have received while at my post regarding the location of the ceremony in which these factory-fresh adults will be receiving the piece of cardboard that will one day house the piece of paper that says they gave enough of a crap about something to spend x amounts of both years and dollars to get it.
Persons 1-623, 625-872: So the ceremony is gonna be outside?
Me: Yes, it certainly is!
P 1-623, 625-872: Okay... well what if it rains?
Me: The ceremony will be held rain or shine!
P 1-623, 625-872: But... what about if it rains?
Me: If there is inclimate weather, the University will provide umbrellas for the graduates.
P 1-623, 625-872: But what about my family?
Me: If there looks to be inclimate weather, they should prepare accordingly.
Person 624: Okay, so like... If it rains though... It's gonna be all humid. And if I straighten my hair I'mma look all crazy.
Person 873: But I really hate sunlight. Also I don't know if I want to be up that early.
Person 874: So... because its gonna be outside- do we gotta, like, bring lawnchairs?
Person 875: Can my family bring a grill?
Person 876: Do I gotta have a ticket fo mah baby?
Me: Every person in attendance must have a ticket.
P 876: Okay lemme get a extra ticket.
Me: I'm sorry, there are five guest tickets alloted for each graduate, and we are not free to distribute more.
P 876: DAMN. So you sayin' I gotta choose between my baby or he daddy?
Me: I'm sorry about the inconvenience- this is just a matter of firecode- we need to keep track of the amount of people on campus.
P 876 (now on a cellphone): This bitch sayin' I can't bring Marcus to my graduation. No! Not Marcus, Jr.... Big Marcus gonna have to stay home because if I don't bring my baby ain't nobody gonna be able to watch him cuz we all 'finna be at the graduation! ...Big Marcus could come to Old Country Buffet after. He could bring some wine... do they have BYOB at the Old Country Buffet?
Person 877: What if there's thunder and lightning and the lightning strikes the flagpole and the flag catches on fire... isn't it illegal to burn the flag? Would the school get in trouble for that? (Now to a friend) Dude- I can see the FBI rollin' up on our graduation and like... taking down the Dean with like... I dunno a fuckin' bodyslam or somethin'!
Oh, kids! It's a good thing they have me! Can you imagine such a difficult and worrisome time in your life being complicated by something as avant-garde and exotic as an outdoor commencement? It's like nothing we've seen before! Never in history has there been a outdoor ceremony- not for anyone's high school graduation, not in the movies, not for kindergarten graduations, not on television, not for middle-school graduation, not for beatuy school graduation, not for ANY graduations EVER! College is HARD!
It is for this reason, this... ardor for what some less considerate folks would refer to as "common sense" that I find myself in the customer service industry!
Most recently, I have been an advocate for a groundbreaking idea regarding the graduation ceremony at the esteemed university I work for. Seems those wacky event planners have decided to hold the ceremony OUTDOORS! Who would have thunk? It's my job to distribute the tickets to graduates for both themselves and their guests, as well as to acquaint them with our plans for the proceedings for that day (such as enter through a door, sign up at the appropriately labeled alphabetic table, sit in a chair with your peers, stand sometimes, sit sometimes... really complicated stuff!) However, as great as our graduates have been about accepting those difficult, scientific ideas, none have created such broad confusion as the fact that the ceremony is actually being held... out of doors! Not since the advent of the internal-spring auto-retracting window shade has such confusion been wrought!
These poor graduates... this time in their life is confusing enough without us throwing them such a curveball! Luckily, I am here to field their questions and confusions! Here is a log I have kept (for scientific records) of the various questions I have received while at my post regarding the location of the ceremony in which these factory-fresh adults will be receiving the piece of cardboard that will one day house the piece of paper that says they gave enough of a crap about something to spend x amounts of both years and dollars to get it.
Persons 1-623, 625-872: So the ceremony is gonna be outside?
Me: Yes, it certainly is!
P 1-623, 625-872: Okay... well what if it rains?
Me: The ceremony will be held rain or shine!
P 1-623, 625-872: But... what about if it rains?
Me: If there is inclimate weather, the University will provide umbrellas for the graduates.
P 1-623, 625-872: But what about my family?
Me: If there looks to be inclimate weather, they should prepare accordingly.
Person 624: Okay, so like... If it rains though... It's gonna be all humid. And if I straighten my hair I'mma look all crazy.
Person 873: But I really hate sunlight. Also I don't know if I want to be up that early.
Person 874: So... because its gonna be outside- do we gotta, like, bring lawnchairs?
Person 875: Can my family bring a grill?
Person 876: Do I gotta have a ticket fo mah baby?
Me: Every person in attendance must have a ticket.
P 876: Okay lemme get a extra ticket.
Me: I'm sorry, there are five guest tickets alloted for each graduate, and we are not free to distribute more.
P 876: DAMN. So you sayin' I gotta choose between my baby or he daddy?
Me: I'm sorry about the inconvenience- this is just a matter of firecode- we need to keep track of the amount of people on campus.
P 876 (now on a cellphone): This bitch sayin' I can't bring Marcus to my graduation. No! Not Marcus, Jr.... Big Marcus gonna have to stay home because if I don't bring my baby ain't nobody gonna be able to watch him cuz we all 'finna be at the graduation! ...Big Marcus could come to Old Country Buffet after. He could bring some wine... do they have BYOB at the Old Country Buffet?
Person 877: What if there's thunder and lightning and the lightning strikes the flagpole and the flag catches on fire... isn't it illegal to burn the flag? Would the school get in trouble for that? (Now to a friend) Dude- I can see the FBI rollin' up on our graduation and like... taking down the Dean with like... I dunno a fuckin' bodyslam or somethin'!
Oh, kids! It's a good thing they have me! Can you imagine such a difficult and worrisome time in your life being complicated by something as avant-garde and exotic as an outdoor commencement? It's like nothing we've seen before! Never in history has there been a outdoor ceremony- not for anyone's high school graduation, not in the movies, not for kindergarten graduations, not on television, not for middle-school graduation, not for beatuy school graduation, not for ANY graduations EVER! College is HARD!
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