Welp Might as Well Throw in the Towel...

HI DUDERS! I haven't been able to do shit other than work and I don't want my blog to die, so for the next few days I'm going to do a BEST OF. These are a going to be few of my favorite entries from years past. This one was originally posted in November 2007. It's one of the most embarrassing things that has ever happened to me (read: that I did to myself). I told this story at a reading last year. I call it KINDRED SPIRITS. Here is a beautiful photographic photo:


making Jew hands




As you know, I've been away on tour with the hilarious, sweet, smart, blah blah blah Virgins for a month, and I just returned to New York today. I haven't been feeding the kitty (my blog) and now she's weak and scraggly. I don't own a cat, just an analogy because as we all know, CATS MAKE PEOPLE GO INSANE.

I returned after two months to a stockpile of mail, one item of which was a directory from my high school of everyone who attended from 1930 to the present. They called me last year about listing my current contact info and asked me all kinds of questions about work/status/family stuff. I don't know why I did it. I HATED high school. I was soooooo so so seewwwwww dorkballs. I crywalked home every day after school until one day during Junior year a miracle happened and a tall, green-eyed surfer named Finn decided to be my first boyfriend. Jumped a few notches up the totem poll after that.

I never spoke to anyone from high school after graduation, outside of my two best friends, and like, three people that I ran into in awkward places at inopportune times. Like really inopportune. Once while I was shrooming for the first and last time at a the Deitch gallery, once at Whole Foods while whisper-fighting with a soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, and once at an after hours party somewhere embarrassing. But I guess subconsciously I wanted all those soul-sucking nose-pickers who were mean to me to see that I wasn't a brace-faced crybaby anymore. The point is, I filled out the questionnaire they mailed me and sent it back with a current picture of myself, all under the pretense that this was something that the other alumni were doing. I even asked if that was the case and the lady said "yes."

The lady said yes.

Where was my honor? "Yes" from a stranger is no reason to sell your ass to Tamalpais High's Directory of Eternal Shame. Anyhow, I forgot all about it and went on with my life, which at the time was pretty swell. I was Fashion Director at a cool magazine, had a DJ/model boyfriend who cooked me breakfast and dinner nearly every day we were together, I was living in a gorgeous waterfront loft in Williamsburg and was traveling to exotic places... just basically living it up. Oh and I was "currently touring the US and Canada with a band and taking a year off to do research for my book." Sounds pretty douchey, right? WELL NO WORRIES BECAUSE ALL OF THAT WAS JUST A SLIVER OF WHAT I PUT IN THE QUESTIONNAIRE.

And now, a year later, standing in my kitchen unwrapping my high school omnibus, it was time for me to reap what I had sewn. As soon as I saw the cover I wondered how it had gotten this far. I hadn't thought about high school since the day I started college. And who cares about a corny directory? But there must have been some part of me that thought somehow being a part of a post-graduation yearbook would redeem part of my less than stellar teenage past. (Cut to me weeping into a pile of unicorn dolls for comfort).

I flipped to the page that my class is on. Mkay... she's a salesperson at Macy's. He's the VP of a bank. I thought she died but oops there she is. That guy was so cute whatever happened to him, oh well. Everyone listed their names, married names if applicable, occupation, email or phone number, and maybe a blurb or two if they had kids- about a two-line a maximum about themselves, mostly just stats. But not me, no. I had sent in a photo of myself so everyone could see how I'd blossomed! and an unwarranted biography about my "amazing life."

AHOY!


There I was with my "sexy" portrait in the middle of the page, saluting my goddamn ex-classmates like a giant corporal asshole. And what's worse is that out of over 26,000 people listed, NO ONE else in the ENTIRE directory sent in a picture... except for one other special lady; a 220-lb blond woman named CandiAnne who claimed that she was "a fireplace and hot apple cider kind of girl" and a "Jill of all trades" who taught scrap-booking classes. She ended with "I'm a total craft-a-holic!" Aviva and CandiAnne: Kindred Spirits.

Welp, there you go Mia, Ru, Derek, and all you other terrorist assholes who have probably grown up to be pleasant, family-loving adults. Go nuts. Oh wait, you guys won't see it because you have better things to do than post what is essentially a personals ad in your high school Alumni Directory.