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mood |
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 complacent |
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music |
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Madonna "Sorry" |
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(This entry was written in two segments. That’s why it starts on December 23rd. F.Y.I.)
Um, look at that clock… it is the earliest hours of December 23rd up hurr in Lemont. The holiday season has (as expected) flown by, and God knows what the hell I was doing while it slipped away. Thankfully, I’ve gotten all my shopping done… Dad’s new Iowa shirt and gourmet cheese popcorn just need to be wrapped while my cousin Drew’s gift is in the mail. And now I breathlessly throw myself into a love-seat and wait for Santa to shower me with his grace and money from Uncle Jim. Doesn’t get much sah-weeter than that.
As far as I can tell, I’m feeling cozy in this brisk winter while remaining undaunted by holiday hoopla. This doesn’t necessarily translate to feeling festive, but at least I’m not totally buried by winter. Still, just a week after returning from Iowa and finishing up my last final, I’m bored out of my mind here. Though I’m making money at Chipain’s (like the diligent 16-year-old high school female cashier I aspire to be), I’m kind of just drifting from hangout to hangout with no real focus. Thing is, I don’t even really belong to a particular group of friends, minus Sarah and company. This isn’t to say I don’t hang out with different people; it’s just that there’s no group that’s really like… my group. I mean there’s Rachel and Lauren, Sarah and Kimmie, Corey, Elyse and Monica occassionally, nowadays Kinga, and of course all the people at Iowa, but they don’t really count as of these next few weeks. I’d prefer more center to my homelife, I guess, but I don’t know what would really entail. Anyway, let’s recap some key shtuff.
Tonight I had a whack-ass, out-of-nowhere dinner at my cousin Tyler’s house. If I’m not mistaken, the event was held because Tyler’s family would be out of town for Christmas, and since they miss a lot of other family events, they felt obligated to have a get-together. Whatever the reason, it was a family get-together with one particularly noticeable addition: my younger brother Mark’s girlfriend Kaitlyn. Talk about a reality check. Who knew anyone in my family was capable of dating? To even think of my parents “dating” at one point sounds fucking preposterous. I’ve known this Kaitlyn for awhile because she and her gigantic Catholic family attended St. Pat’s, but I have to say, witnessing the “relationship” between my brother and Kaitlyn is…first of all, entertaining since I am a lip-biting voyeur and just love shit like this… but mostly it was just fucking irritating. Kaitlyn is under the impression that saying cute but otherwise meaningless statements, feigning giving a shit, and repeatedly insisting “I feel really bad now!” whenever someone says something mildly mocking is the same thing as being genuine. Boy is she wrong. It’s honestly come to the point where my dad and I bond over jokes about this girl. I don’t even know if I think she’s… just terrible, but really, a lot of signs point that direction. I am fucking sorry, but what kind of girlfriend goes out to a movie with her boyfriend while also dragging along her “best friend!!” Mike, a guy who totally wants to date her. That’s the most retarded thing I’ve ever heard. Mark spent enough time having this shell of a human being string him along not to have her go places with him and her “best friend!” Her reasoning was that she didn’t want him to feel left out since this Mike person is, again, her best friend, but as my dad quotably mentioned, “Everything out of her mouth is b.s.” See, actually, Kaitlyn, the reason you brought Mike on your fucking date is because you love the attention. You obviously don’t appreciate either Mark or Mike since you subject them to spending time with one another even though they both want to spend intimate alone time with you. In one of tonight’s most incredible moments, Kaitlyn mentioned, “I’ve turned down seven guys since I broke up with Jarrett!” But who’s counting, right? How powerful of Kaitlyn to state! And she were probably soulmates with each of them as well. Worst of all is watching Mark tread through her bullshit, because he clearly hangs on Kaitlyn’s every action just in case she decides to fuck him over. I can’t blame him; he’s right to not trust her. I wasn’t coy in voicing my disgust with her either… like tonight, I mentioned the triple date with Mark and Mike, and she goes, “It wasn’t a date!!” And then I said, “Well good, because that would’ve been really rude.” Mark knows she’s full of shit most of the time, and I can tell because he supports my trampling of her. Besides this fiasco, I had a lot of fun jamming with Bryanna, Tyler, and my littler cousins. Bryanna is after my Kathy Griffin-loving heart… when we were looking at an old soccer picture of Tyler and his teammates and noticed a huge, gruff girl in the front, Bryanna inhaled in awe and sighed, “She’s defense.” Also, because it was a family function, DDR was whipped out. I still have my happy feet after all these years, and even though no one needs to hear the song “Long Train Runnin’” ever again, it was nice to boogie.
Madonna’s Confessions on a Dancefloor is owning my life right now. I don’t end a day without listening to “Hung Up” at least once. The song just may be the new “Hand on Your Heart” (no offense, Kylie, I’m right behind you every step of the chemo, girl).
A lot of those scattered friends I mentioned above have been ever-present in the last week. I had a bountiful feast of garlic bread and ice cream with Sarah and Kinga at George’s, a viewing of Project Runway with Rachel and Lauren, a trip to Steak N’ Shake with Andy and Kimmie, and an excursion to the city with, yet again, Rachel and Lauren. Everything ruled except for when I traipsed across the city in what can only be described as the BLISTERING WND TUNNEL OF CHICAGO for an hour with Rachel and Lauren (and Max from school), and then my legs itched so fucking much. We ended up hitting the 12:40 a.m. train home, and therefore the three of us sans Max were all exhausted (to death).
And then after a rapturous party at Elyse’s dad’s house in Mount Greenwood last night, I drove on home with as much sense of direction as Helen Keller in a blizzard. Better yet, I was driving at a steady pace when all of the sudden I see blinking red and blue lights in my rear view mirror. Surely it is a disco. Wrong again, Louis, it is a cop pulling over your ass. I hesitantly inched to the side of the road, and seriously within the second, a cop was taping my window with a nightstick. I guess I was going 46 mph in a 30, which is such crap because seconds before, the speed limit was 40. The cop was a blowhard from the start with his commands like “Show me your license! Show me your insurance! Show me your bond card! That’s your insurance card again, sir. I said ‘bond card.’ No, sir, that’s a picture of Jafar from Aladdin, try again.” I am just sorry, a bond card? The bastard had to take my license and spend half a year writing down my information. The moment he left, my anxiety attack set in. It was fucking 3:00 a.m. on Christmas Eve, and here I was in “Worth, Illinois” (not even joking) and incredulous. Throughout the shock of this incident, I couldn’t have been pansier… I had on my pink polo, was blasting Kylie Minogue (and not even newer, more urban Kylie Minogue… I am talking straight-up “Locomotion”), and I kept begging the guy to let me call my dad. He finally let me, and my mom picked up the phone with a “huhh-wo?”, and I was so fucking pissed and scared that she had to calm me down by assuring me she still loved me. Which was cute… but I am nine years old secretly.
So there it is. I got me a speeding ticket. Weirdly enough, on the same day I bought an iPod online. WOO TRY AND STOP ME NOW MOTHERFUCERS HELL YEAH VIDEO FUNCTION 7,500 SONGS DOWN 300 BUCKS FINALLY SELF-ESTEEM, SUCK IT. Anyway, it’s a black one, and on the back I have engraved “King of Modesty.” I’m mulling over not putting “The King of Modesty,” but whatever. After going on a car trip and lugging around my three-ton cd case… the iPod was necessary. And was really only two and a half paychecks. Heehee, guilt free! Hee! Hee! I will be broke and dead in a year.
Anyway, Christmas Eve festivities have also been underway. My brother Greg bought me a nice, perhaps oversized blue shirt from Express Men. Good call with Express Men, Greg, I applaud you.
But that’s all for now. Merry Christmas (and, err, Happy New Year… if I don’t see you sooner). Hope you’re all enjoying your loved ones, yourselves, and the one or two days where people actually chill. I’m so working that one right now… and though it’s a little frustrating to be cooped up inside all day, I can hear my mom singing in the kitchen. Love that. Though who knew Gloria knew any of the words to “Don’t Cha”?
Check you guys later… thanks for reading and living it up with me. Xoxo,
Louis
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