Category Archives: Social

I miss you, Sean

You’ll probably never see this, but I’ve really been missing you lately. I was reading over our old MSN Messenger chat archives the other day and was feeling super nostalgic. You were the first friend I made in college outside of the marching band group and you made those psych classes so much more tolerable. And living with you and Aaron and the other guys that last year of college was super fun.

Anyway, if you ever do see this, I miss you and I hope you’re doing something that makes you happy.

And that it’s not nearly as cold wherever you are as it is in Calgary right now.

(Also, happy birthday!)

Do you REMEMBER…this joke comes around each SEPTEMBER

Ahoy, nerds.

So this blog post stems from a conversation I had with Nate while we were walking (was it this weekend? Last weekend? Last year? I honestly have NO CONCEPT OF TIME ANYMORE, so who the hell knows). We were talking about what we were like when we were kids (how we played, what types of friends we had, etc.), and I remembered how much of a planner I was when I was a kid. More specifically, I remembered how frustrated I always was as a kid over how terrible other kids were at planning and carrying through with things.

Example 1: one of my really weird desires as a kid (and as a teenager, ask my high school friends) was to re-create movies with my friends. Not to, like, adapt them into plays or pretend we were characters in a movie and act as if we were the actual characters…I mean, follow the script, actions, and tone of a movie down to the minute details and basically do the movie again, but with us instead of the original characters/actors. I actually don’t know if I ever wanted these to be taped or if they would just have been live performances or what, but I seriously had this urge for the majority of my pre-adult life.

Anyway, Toy Story came out when I was in elementary school (first grade, I think?) and it immediately became the best thing ever to me. Woody was my favorite. And thus, when I decided I wanted my first grade class to act out the movie, I decided I would be Woody and then assigned other characters to my friends based on who I thought they acted like in real life (the only one I can remember at this point was my friend Meredith D. was going to play Slinky).

I was actually a fairly popular kid in first grade, so I had a lot of sway and people generally did what I wanted them to (and I wasn’t pushy about the movie thing, just to be clear; I asked people if they wanted to do it one afternoon and they said yes and so that was that). So I organized everyone, got us all together on the playground, gave everyone their roles, and plotted out how the opening scene would work using parts of the playground as landmarks. We got through a few lines, then the bell rang and we had to go back inside. The next day? It seemed like everyone had completely forgotten about the plans and had no more interest in the project, which was really disheartening and I was pretty mad (yeah, I know, how dare these six-year-olds have the attention spans of six-year-olds?). This happened with Star Wars, too. Yeah, we were going to do Star Wars. I liked the droids, shut up.

Example 2: fast forward a few years to, I don’t know, fourth or fifth grade? St. Mary’s offered an “after school” program in the summer that was more like a half-day day camp thing to keep us youths out of trouble. We would go to Ghourmley park and swim (back when it had a pool), we’d go to the library, we’d screw around on the playground at St. Mary’s, all that fun stuff.

One of the best things that happened during these day camps was when we’d get a hold of some large cardboard boxes—fridge boxes, stove boxes, etc.—and get to do what we wanted with them. We loved the boxes. One day we got like four refrigerator boxes from somewhere and we were freaking over the moon. I had the idea to make like a huge space station thing out of the boxes, and so a group of us (five or so?) started planning on all the elaborate stuff we’d add to the boxes—dials, windows, doors that “air locked,” tethers that we could use to “space walk” from the boxes, all that jazz. I wrote out blueprints, yo. We were jazzed as hell and were making all these plans to bring stuff from home the next day so that we could make the coolest space station ever. And the next day? You guessed it: it was like we’d never made any of these plans at all. No one brought anything (except for me), no one seemed to care anymore. And once again, super disappointing.

Example 3: this is less of a “Claudia has always been a planner” example and more of a “Claudia is an only child and ALL THE TOYS ARE HERS” kind of an example, but it fits well enough that I’m including it here. Let’s go way back in time to kindergarten. I remember we had this huge set of these plain old rectangular blocks—the things were pretty big, like half the size of actual bricks (or at least they seemed that big when I was in kindergarten), and there were a lot of them.

One day I wanted to use all of said blocks to make a giant horse, and so I did. It was this super huge and fairly elaborate thing by the time I was done with it and it took up quite a bit of the classroom. My teacher must have thought it was pretty cool, though, so she let me leave it up after playtime was over and actually told the other kids not to take any of the blocks from it for the rest of the day.

Finally, when the other kids were allowed to start disassembling it so that they too could use the blocks again, I was pretty upset. I was like, “what are you gonna build with it, pleb? Surely not a COLOSSAL HORSE.”

Anyway.

The House: 10 Years Ago

So tonight, instead of working on posting my tremendous backlog of blogs, I do what I always do instead when I’m procrastinating posting my blogs: read my old blogs.

And in doing so, I realized that it was 10 years ago today that I moved into “The House” with Sean, Aaron, Lanky, and Michael.

Living there with those guys was one of the most enjoyable years of my life. Fun memories:

  • How ridiculous that house was. The Soul Hole, the window that kept trying to kill me, the lack of curtains, the seizure light.
  • Rock Band. All the time. Obsessively. It was our lives.
  • Midnight trips to Shari’s.
  • Netflix movie nights, which were basically us nostalgia-tripping on movies from our childhoods while at the same time criticizing the hell out of them.
  • That time Aaron, Lanky, and I day-tripped to Missoula to get piercings and ended up not only getting piercings but also getting three packs of “adult” word fridge magnets to have fun with.
  • Algernon (the mouse) and his incredibly large and invasive family.
  • That time I had to take out one of Aaron’s infected piercings with a needle-nose plier.
  • The time that Michael left the rotting bag of potatoes in the laundry room closet and we had HUNDREDS of flies in the house. It was gross as all hell.
  • All those damn YouTube videos we constantly quoted (Halifax, PowerThirst I and II, the Cooking by the Book remix, The Ding Dong Song, Ebeeto’s Might & Magic reviews, etc.).
  • Noodle Fridays and spending approximately $35 per visit at the Dollar Store.
  • Setting stuff on fire in the kitchen (both on purpose and accidentally).
  • That pair of fake boobs that each one of us, at one point, wore.
  • Pogo-sticking around the living room.
  • Pogo-sticking up and down the street.
  • Running around in the rain/thunder/lightning.
  • Breaking every last one of Michael’s chairs (by accident, I swear).
  • The Orgy Couch.
  • Nerdy conversations with Lanky.
  • The 60+ pizza boxes that we’d let pile up in the kitchen.
  • Us making terribly suggestive phrases/poems on the fridge thanks to my set of magnetic words + the dirty ones we bought in Missoula.
  • The Quote Book.
  • Hookahs on the porch in the summer (no hookah for me, though; I tried it once and it hurt my throat).
  • DA COLE TRAIN.
  • The upstairs neighbors who were constantly loud but said enough stupid things that we mocked them incessantly and did so loud enough so that they could hear us.
  • Those dollar store tiki torch things that are STILL IN THAT DAMN YARD.

Super fun. I miss those guys so much.

Bonus fuckery:

You know what I haven’t done in a while? Annoyed you all with old irrelevant snippets from my 2006-2009 MSN conversations.

So let’s do that, ‘cause I’m bored. These are all with Nick, who appears to have just vanished off the face of the earth.

Cobraphilia: my PENIS BROKEN
Cobraphilia: *pen is
Cobraphilia: *PEN IS
Cobraphilia: GOD DAMMIT

Dr. Bomb: i just burned the hell out of my fingertips on a hot cup of coffee
Action Leibniz!: …you don’t drink coffee?
Dr. Bomb: nope i hate it
Dr. Bomb: but this hotel room has a coffee maker
Dr. Bomb: and if a hotel room has a coffee maker, you are obligated by the law to make coffee
Action Leibniz!: Hahaha, are we the same person? I do that too
Dr. Bomb: *milhouse voice* so this is what it feels like…when doves cry

Dr. Bomb: I have disco fever!
Dr. Bomb: or, you know, the flu

welshy: L is for ludicrous neighbors partying on Wednesday evenings
welshy: O is for “oh my holy god it’s 3 am please stop partying”
welshy: U is for “u gonna get shanked if you don’t stop partying”
welshy: D is for “dis tired next door neighbor is gonna call the cops”

Dr. Bomb: ik09
Action Leibniz: ik09?
Dr. Bomb: there was a bug on my keyboard
Dr. Bomb: i’m assuming his secret code name is ik09, since that’s what keys i hit when i murdered him
Action Leibniz: I’m sure knowing his code name will be a comfort to his wife at his funeral
Dr. Bomb: OH COME ON, NOW I FEEL GUILTY

welshy: what instrument do you play again?
Eine kleine Nachtfieber: I play more than one
welshy: whoa
welshy: at the same time??? [he was so drunk, haha]

Camp Four Echoes: The Saga

Little known (?) fact about me: I was a Girl Scout. Granted, I was only a Girl Scout for approximately a year and a half so it wasn’t like a huge part of my life, but I was a Girl Scout.

I was a Girl Scout long enough to go to Camp Four Echoes, the little Girl Scout retreat/camp thingy that we had.

I’m bringing this up because I was looking through one of my “here’s a whole bunch of papers and nonsense from my past” drawers and found the little scrapbook I’d made from my week at Camp Four Echoes. And then I thought “fuck it, I put almost every other aspect of my life on this damn blog, why not the Girl Scouts part?”

So here we are (in pdf form). Enjoy: Camp Four Echoes

That Lauren scandal thing was Prime Drama™.

I miss my friendies.

I am extra lonely tonight for some really weird reason. So I’ve been thinking of friends of the past (since I don’t really have any friends right now).

I’ve had three main groups of friends in my life (I don’t count elementary school, ‘cause all those “friends” I had in first and second grade were quick to abandon me once I was deemed “uncool”): my high school group, the band geek group in college, and the guys at the house in college.

Things that remind me of my high school friends:

  • Being hooligans in the hallway during lunchtime.
  • That one lady (I don’t know if she was a teacher’s aide or what) who thought our shenanigans were hilarious.
  • That one guy who thought our shenanigans were blasphemous.
  • Harassing Alan.
  • Harassing Aneel.
  • Those stupid cardboard stilts that almost killed me in the bathroom.
  • Going to the Co-Op, buying a loaf of bread, and then just sharing that amongst us for our lunch.
  • Zach and those “Emergen-C” pouches. He would just chug those.
  • That time I accidentally* threw the loaf of bread at Aneel and almost got detention.
  • Stalking Lead around. All the time.
  • That stupid “porn” reading of “To Kill a Mockingbird” that I did that had everyone cackling.
  • Prom dress shopping at Ross!
  • Being hooligans in that field across from the university.
  • MSN conversations!

Things that remind me of my band geek group:

  • Band (duh).
  • Playing at the football games while paying zero attention to the game itself.
  • “Please touch my butt…please touch my butt!”
  • Being hooligans at Shari’s.
  • Being hooligans at Denny’s.
  • Drag shows!
  • Rock Band basement parties at my dad’s.
  • That basement party that was basically an orgy, let’s not lie.
  • That time we all drove out to Idler’s Rest and spent half the night crying/venting about how our lives were not what we wanted at the time.
  • R O B  D R A M A
  • The nerd-fest that was the band table in the Commons. Oh my god, that table was fun.

Things that remind me of the guys in the house:

  • NOODLE FRIDAYS.
  • Incessant Rock Band playing.
  • Quoting pretty much every viral YouTube video from 2008.
  • All the weird relationships in that house.
  • Getting impulse piercings in Missoula.
  • Late night conversations with Sean (he got off work after midnight and I was always the only one still up).
  • Reliving our childhoods via movies on Netflix (and making fun of said movies).
  • Being hooligans in Shari’s.
  • Otter Pops!

I miss having friends.

*It really was an accident. I was swinging the bread bag around like a nun chuck and the bread launched through the bottom seam and nailed him in the face. Right in front of our security guard.

Ready for a blast from the past?

I wasn’t. But I got one today anyway.

It’s Jessica. As in, “Rob and Jessica.” As in, the “I hate you because the guy I like decided to ask you out, you trickster whore” Jessica.

Yeah. Her.

The last contact we had was back in 2008. This is the first I’ve heard from her since then.

So here are my questions: am I a petty asshole for not wanting to reply to this at all? Is it wrong of me to think that this (nearly 10 years after the fact) apology does not make up for all of this bullshit? Am I a bad person for getting all riled up about that whole damn Rob/Jessica nonsense again just based on this message?

Actually, you know what? I don’t actually care about the answers to those questions.

I’m not going to reply to her message. Maybe it’s because I’m a petty asshole. Maybe it’s because I’m wrong in thinking that an apology doesn’t make up for all the nonsense she pulled back in 2008. Maybe it’s because I’m a bad person. I don’t actually care. The more I think about all that 2008 nonsense with her and Rob and myself and all the related drama, the more I realize that the current me would not have put up with any of that. I would have dropped it all before it got as ridiculous as it did.

And while I can’t change the past, I can make up for it in the present. How? By not engaging. By not putting up with anything related to any of that goddamn drama that made the first half of 2008 so ridiculous.*

Petty? Maybe. Healthy? Yes.

Sorry, I just felt like talking about this, so of course it had to go on my blog.

*I just wanted to date Sean. I just wanted to date Sean. Instead I got to be part of the soap opera shitfest that was getting involved with Rob. Shoot 2008 me in the face.

Stop, drop, and ROCK ‘N’ ROLL!

Playing Rock Band with Nate keeps bringing up all these memories of when my roommates and I would spend hours and hours and hours playing Rock Band back in the house. We took it seriously, yo. Examples of said seriousness:

  • Playing for 14 hours straight. This happened a few times.
  • Busting through the tour mode as fast as possible to earn tons of money, and then spending all evening customizing the outfits of our band members.
  • That time the Xbox red-ringed on us and we spent approximately one hour Xbox-less before we NEEDED to go get a new one to play Rock Band.
  • Sean getting drunk and trying to sing Ballroom Blitz in a Scottish accent.
  • Lanky singing Metallica’s “Blackened.”
  • Sean and I quoting relevant Metalocalypse quotes as we play (“I have musics dyslexkia…you know that…I…don’t likes to talk about it.”).
  • Michael getting drunk and falling off the drumming chair.
  • Rabbi Jeff, Aaron’s burly, mountain man-esque character who was (obviously) Jewish.
  • Aaron making up random lyrics on the fly as he sang.
  • Our “cutoff” system. At one point or another, I said that anything less than a 97% on a song was not good enough, so we set 97% to “cutoff.” We had a bunch of other things for other percentages as well. 100% earned a high five, 99% earned a limp fist bump (because you just didn’t try hard enough to get a 100%), 98% was an actual fist bump, 96% was “not even cutoff,” 95% was “not even not even cutoff,” a 69% meant that you had to kiss everyone else in the room (this never happened), and a score of 1% meant you had to have sex with someone in the room (also never happened). There were others, but I can’t remember them.
  • Calling the drummer and singer the “drummist” and “singist,” respectively.
  • Calling the guitarist and bassist the “guitarer” and “basser,” respectively.
  • Lanky wailing “MARYANNE!!!” in an overdrive section of More Than a Feeling and us all subsequently failing out because we were laughing so hard.
  • How FREAKING EXCITED we were when my parents got me Rock Band 2.
  • Sean rocking out so hard with the guitar that he tipped the couch over (this happened several times).
  • Breaking at least three of Michael’s chairs.
  • All of us playing Metallica’s “Blackened” on expert and just barely making it through the song. I’d actually failed out three times, but the last time was right before the end, so we still made it.
  • All of us giving very serious consideration to making a documentary about our fake band.
  • Putting those little plastic bendable glow stick things all over the instruments and then rocking out in the dark.

So much fun.

Convo

Y’all, I just met the coolest student (not mine) and we had an awesome two-hour conversation about philosophy, writing, art, and life in general.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a conversation like that. It was fantastic!

More Nostalgia Garbage

I found that “Goodnight Aneel” thing I posted about yesterday because I’ve been going through all the old crap on my compy. Another thing I found was a Word document full of all sorts of old letters/emails/etc. that I saved for whatever reason or another.

Back in elementary school (5th grade, 6th grade), one thing I liked to do (‘cause I was a weird bugger) was pretend that each person’s desk was like their house and had its own address and such. I’d write letters to people, put them in actual envelopes (with drawn-on fake stamps), and “deliver” them through our “postal service” (which was just me putting the letters in peoples’ desks during recess).

Here’s an example:

 

Joe Hazardus
200 Master St.
Mossy, ID 8384ME

Sir O the Second
2020 Ribbon St.
Mossy, ID 8384ME

Dear Sir O the Second:

            It occurred to me that Mistress O has fallen from her tower again. She has no sense of balance. Anyway, you don’t get the index concept. Don’t think Parlor Van Anita hasn’t called me yet. Cappi Bara still needs your opinion. Do you like plaid or velvet? Tell her soon, or behold her wrath!!!

            T.S.T.B. Joe and Solid Cooler have decided to plan your day. I hope you’re happy. Fun with Pressure Points has caught the attention of millions. Do you think Grouper Sue and yourself could pull it off in front of the nation?

P.S. Lee Blubberlig and Hershe Wrapper are upset with you. Don’t ask me why.

Your Seedless Wonder who is DESPERATE for a reply,

                                                                                                            Joe Hazardus

 

I was, of course, Joe Hazardus. Sir O the Second was Kelly O., I believe. Solid Cooler was John…I don’t remember who the others were. “T.S.T.B.” stood for “Too Soon To Be” because why not.

Here’s an email I sent to my friend Aneel in 7th grade. Having an email address was the hip n’ cool new thing at the time (2001). I was starpotty@hotmail.com. I was also hyper as hell, apparently.

Where are you? Are you in Arizona? Mexico? California? Tokyo? Do you still have this address? I hope so cause I’m sending you this. Do you have a brain you could spare? Do you have any Norwegian money? Turnips are good. I fail to see the similarities between a shoe and it’s laces of doom. Do you have any snowballs? I like the snow….maybe it’ll snow today. Somebody wants to copy an orange. Maybe if you build a pool and put gelatin in it, it will replicate the look and feel of an ocean. Turnips are disgusting. Can you spell? I can’t spell. My Halloween pumpkin tried to kill me last night. It seemed to go nuts and tried to declare freedom. Maybe I shouldn’t carve pumpkins anymore. Are you the king of your country yet? Has Tokyo sunk yet? Where’s your phone? I WANT THE DANG PHONE BACK!! HAVE YOU NO HEART?!!??!!? Oh well. Is it a cellular phone, or just one of those where you get this *eepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep* and then “cosmic operator, hold, please” and then: DUN-DUN DUN DUN DUNNNN DU DU!DUN-DUN DUN DUN DUNNNN DU DU!DUN-DUN DUN DUN DUNNNN DU DU!DUN-DUN DUN DUN DUNNNN DU DU!DUN-DUN DUN DUN DUNNNN DU DU! and then you go and re invent the law of physics and cut a hole in the ceiling and get sucked into it. How many turnips have you grown since I started writing this dang message? Are you even reading this? HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE???? Are you in Tokyo yet? TIP: if you put an egg in the microwave for 2:00, at 1:39 seconds, it will EEEXPPLLOOODDDE!!!! It is very very loud…33,333,333,333,333,333,333,333 decimals, to be precise. Can you read this? ARE YOU SURE? I seriously doubt my instincts about sending you this…it’s not like you CHECK it very often. I’ve sent you, like, 4 billion freakin messages!! AND HOW DO YOU REPAY ME???? SILENCE!!! Oh, the horror! Oh, the insanity! Oh, the inconvenience!!!!!!!!!!! DEATH!!!!!!!!!!!!! *ahem* okay. Enough of that. See ya soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooon! bye.

>+<!*^*~(STAR POTTY)~^*^*!>+<

I also wrote a lot of love letters to the dude I liked back when I was a kid, but we ain’t gonna go into that nonsense.

Goodnight Aneel

Back when I used to think I was both talented and hilarious, I made a little parody of “Goodnight Moon” for my high school friend Aneel. Considering all the drawings were in MS Paint, I’d say it’s not too bad.

Check it:

09-29-2017-a09-29-2017-b09-29-2017-c09-29-2017-d09-29-2017-e09-29-2017-f09-29-2017-g09-29-2017-h09-29-2017-i09-29-2017-j09-29-2017-k09-29-2017-l09-29-2017-m09-29-2017-n09-29-2017-o09-29-2017-p09-29-2017-q09-29-2017-r09-29-2017-s

Reunited (would it feel so good?)

Lawl. My 2006 high school graduating class is planning a 10-year reunion. I have basically zero interest in seeing any of those people again (except maybe my little gaggle of weirdo friends; those guys were great), but it would be interesting to see where everyone is in their lives 10 years after high school. Are they where they thought they’d be? I know I’m sure as hell not.

If this was going on when I was “scheduled” to be in Moscow (early May…hopefully), I might go, but it’s in the middle of July and I don’t really have much of an urge to fly all the way to Moscow to see people I hardly remember and hardly cared about.

The only reason I’d like to go is to see the old gang of friends. I still care about them. I have a good picture of us all outside the Palouse mall taken sometime in our senior year (or maybe even that summer after); it’d be pretty cool if we could re-do that photo ten years later, eh?

 

Protected: Buds

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BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH! Wait, it’s the 20th? Well…well I hope you bewared on the 15th, then!

Today Nate’s family came up form Crowsnest Pass and we spent the afternoon walking in what was practically hurricane-force winds.

We are nothing if not stubborn.

Also, I suck at chess, but I’m getting a little better. Bishops are not my friends in that game.

Woo!

Today was fun. :)

Let’s relive some humiliation, shall we?

Hahaha, so this might seem like a totally random thing to post (isn’t everything I post like that, though?), but I was reminded of this incident a few nights ago and I still think it’s hilarious, so I want to actually write it down somewhere so that if I ever forget about it, I can have a good laugh upon rediscovering it.

Alright. So. Matt (and Maggie, if you read this), you guys might remember our first Band Camp for Marching Band back in 2006. Recall that, at the end of that week, the sousas handed out little flyers to all of us, urging us to attend the “band seminar” in the evening. It wasn’t required, they said, but attendance was recommended.
As you also probably recall, the “seminar” was basically a drinking party held at one of the sousa’s apartments (I think the “distinguished speaker” was Dr. Winehard or something).

And everyone who got the flyer pretty much knew that this was just a party in disguise, right?
Well…wrong.

I distinctly remember Beau walking over to me and going, “I don’t really want to go, but we probably should, ‘cause it’d make us look good.” And with my matching level of naivety about college, I agreed and said that we should walk over together.
So later that night, with our freaking backpacks and notebooks, we head over to the address on the flyer, fully expecting an hour-long seminar where we would have to take notes (I’m not even kidding, oh my god, we were dumb).
We get like two houses away from the address and all we can hear is this booming music an a lot of people singing/shouting/being rowdy. And Beau looks at me and says, “I think it’s a party.” I agree. We slink back to the dorms, ashamed of our inability to have figured it out beforehand like EVERYONE ELSE.

I brought this story up to Beau the semester I graduated (fall 2008, so like two years later) and he totally denied it ever happening. But it did! He’s so embarrassed by it still I bet, haha.

So yeah. Just a funny little “we were stupid and didn’t know what college was” anecdote.
I still think it’s hilarious.

:(

Goodbyes suck.

That is all.

MY FRIENDS KNOW ME SO WELL

Look at this ridiculously adorable thing.

1

This was the “surprise” Nick sent me awhile back: a standard normal distribution plushie!! I told him about this Etsy shop like three years ago and then this dude shows up in the mail.

He is my new favorite little buddy.

2

LOOK AT HIM SMILING LIKE “YEAH I KNOW I’VE GOT A MEAN OF ZERO AND A STANDARD DEVIATION OF ONE AND I KNOW YOU WANT MY BOD”

He is so freaking adorable I can’t even stand it.

Right now he’s chilling with all my stats books, but I might bring him to my office to chill there.

3

Thankyouthankyouthankyou, Nick!

Protected: Things to do in Moscow

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Friends! Followers! Random passers-by! Lend me your eyes!

So I had this idea and I think it would be fun.

This year sucks ‘cause Halloween is in the freaking middle of the week. But I was thinking that the old gang could get together either the weekend before or the weekend after, get all Halloween dressed up, crash Shari’s, then come back to the basement for a good old fashioned basement party. Preferably still in costume. Or OUT of costume, if you know what I mean.

Heh.

I have no idea why I’m randomly thinking about Halloween.

 

Thoughts?

 

P.S. Happy birthday, Matt!