Disposable...

A lot of times, it's awkward to see people you're really only Facebook friends with in person. Like outside of school. In the past week, this has occurred thrice times.

As I was working outside with Parents A this morrow, I realized that Facebook has very much changed who we consider friends. For the worse. Like some people you only remain "friends" with to read there TOTES killer Notes, others just because it would be awkward.

I don't know how I feel about being a trendsetter either.

That is all.

Adventures in Self-Analysis (and Self-Promotion)

Some of you have read this already and have the opportunity to read it in a much different form but I present to you, my faithful and EXTREMELY demanding readership, one of the few things I am actually proud to have written and taken part in. Its not formatted in the way a usual post on this blahg is, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
I know I complained about Owns Me a lot, I do still dislike it, but if it weren't for that Sisyphean shitstorm of student journalism, I never would have written this*:

Twenty-seven thousand feet over Michigan, on an American Airlines flight bound for Chicago-O’Hare International Airport, I read these words: “They were, after all, schoolchildren playing at being grownups.” Read in the twilight of my high-school career, this sentence at the bottom of page 104 of Gabriel García Marquez’s One-Hundred Years of Solitude summarizes how I feel about my experiences over these past four years.

The words resonated in my mind. Months of study and work, as well as the students and teachers who populated more school days than I can count, had led me to one of the most significant moments of my life. Suddenly, there was a second light bulb burning brightly over seat 22B as the realization finally came: I’m not as young as I used to be.

I peeled my eyes away from the page and thought, “There’s a stranger to my left and to my right. I’m flying to a city I’ve never been to, to go to another city I’ve never been to. I’m doing this by myself.” It was an independence day of sorts, except it was the finale of my own evolutionary war.

On the ground, beleaguered with a backpack and a duffel bag, coffee in one hand and cell phone in the other, I made a few calls back to New York as I waited for my flight to St. Louis. “No, I had to connect in Chicago. My flight gets into St. Louis at two,” I spoke with confidence.

“My flight.”

It sounded so adult.

“I could get used to this. I can do it. I am doing it,” I thought. This was my dry run. A practice round for what I would have to do many times in the next chapter of my life. If I were playing the role of an adult, then my Academy Award was pretty much a lock. The only problem was that I wasn’t playing. It was another stage in the evolution from high-school senior to college freshman– a process I’m not entirely comfortable with yet.

There had been many times before when I felt like one of the grownups I always wanted to be: my first sleepover, my first cell phone, and my first time driving solo. The youngest of my family, I wanted to be older my whole life. I had always tried to carry myself with the maturity of “the older kids.” But, standing outside Gate K7, among a sea of businessmen anxiously typing away on their Blackberrys, my sense of maturity had never felt so real.

I owe the overwhelming majority of this latent maturity to Chaminade High School, the institution that I felt the furthest from at Gate K7. Inside and outside the classroom, lessons came and went. Not every lesson manifested itself on a Scantron, but there certainly were tests. I realized the 14-year-old boy who walked into Room 219 in August, 2004 for his first day of 3-CWeek was an entirely different person than the 18 –year old man who will walk across the stage of the Tilles Center on June 1, 2008.

It was not until the spring, around the time of college decisions, that I felt I had earned the title of senior. My college applications (a process that requires its own amount of maturity) had been reviewed and finalized. “Next year” was talked of more frequently. It seemed the last paragraphs were in the final stages of proofreading, on their way to being printed.

When the college letters came in(some good, some bad), the next chapter, college, had never felt so close. I was faced with the biggest decision of my life up to this point. Coupled with the completion of the last two large-scale assignments of the year, the thought of high school nearing an end bounced around in my brain and off other people’s tongues more and more. On Facebook, friends joined countless numbers of “(Fill in the blank) University Class of 2012”student groups. Countdowns to the final day of school began.

“It’s almost over” turned into “Thirty days left.” Thirty became twenty; ten became five. Five more times I would park in the lot across Jericho Turnpike. I would have five more Chaminade lunches. High school was over. One more chapter completed. Gabriel García Marquez’s words only compounded my mix of emotions about my run at Chaminade being over. The past weeks had felt like a blur. Soon, I would no longer be playing at being a grownup. The adult I had always wanted to be is the person I am now.

*[Ed. note] WAAAAAAAH!

French Food and Used Shoes: Profiles in Awesome

Everyone can relax. This blog post is new and I hope that it will be entertaining. I was told I "had to blog about tonight." And after the little stunt someone with the same initials as urine pulled on the Fifteenth of May in the Year of Our Lord 2008, it would appear as though I am losing control. Well, I'm taking back the helm of this little Intertubespace ship I like to call Hope. Dad's home; the party's over.*

On the evening of the Seventeenth of May in the Year of Our Lord 2008, a little get-together (many good things are abbreved GT) took place. The occassion: the 18th anniversary of my breathtaking and so far well-reviewed emergence from the womb of Mom A. The place: The town I am always in despite not living there. The people: awesome. Attendees were as follows: Id A, Produce Pete, The Schmelter, Fraulein Schmelter (BPE, needs a better name), Anne Frank (ditto), Zideburnz, Pinky Tuscadero and Commander Cool who is last on the list because he showed up last. (That's what you get for having "a family." What are those anyway?) We were all dressed to the nines. One of us even looked like a cowboy! (Urine)

READY!?! OKAY!!!

First there was cheese and crackers. And mozzarella sticks which really took away from the authentic French feel (tricolors, fancy plastic champagne glasses and sparkling raspberry-apple cider [credit: Produce Pete and Schmelter.]) Perhaps if they were brie sticks? I don't know; moving on! The was relatively untouched as just two hours before this meal I had finished half a bag of Doritos (Cool Ranch only) while "Keeping up with the Kardashians" for four hours. I lead a very sad, sad life when I am by myself. MAIN COURSE!

"Beware the toothpicks, guys." CHICKEN CORDON BLEU! QUE CORELLE! FRANCE! Despite Doritos, I will it anything if wrapped in meat that comes from a pig. Pigs are most delish farm animals, IMO. Really, this was the first home-cooked meal I've had since Thanksgiving (saaddd) and it was actually really good. BRAVO LADYGIRLS! Cards were given, I was flattered. YOu people spoil me. Like really, above and beyond.

Then there was dessert. Oh, dessert. Cupcakes: good. The menstral blood that came with them: not so good. SRY! The crepes: good. The effort it takes to make crepes: cancels out the outcome of crepe making. Then I drank a plastic champagne glass filled to the brim with chocolate syrup because it's my birthday (it was actually last week but no one's counting) and why would I count calories at my own birthday party? There can't be than many in chocolate syrup? Right? RIGHT!?! [Vom] I'm not bulimic. LIKE AT ALL. Then we cleaned, slowly and with much ado. BOWLING!

Then we went bowling because I said it and everyone had to listen to me. That is except if you had a dress on, then YOU could do whatever YOU wanted on MY birthday. Bitches. While waiting to bowl at the happiest place on Earth, we formed two cliques: Team Single and Club BFGF. As I had a crown on, I appointed, nee anointed (I'm a king, I have those powers), myself Team Captain. Team Single (Commander Cool, Produce Pete, Anne Frank and myself) just talked about how good (bad) it was to not have the old ball-and-chain. [Tears] Being Team Captain of Team Single is really the best (worst) thing ever. [Tears] Then I got mad that a stupid arcade game that no one in history has ever won existed and it really is the stupidest thing ever theres no way in hell anyone can gain that much electricity in their "node" to win that monkey FUCKYOUARCADEGAMEIHATEYOUFOREVER. Then we bowled. I performed only slightly better than Barack Obama but much worse than Produce Pete who has apparently been hiding a secret bowling talent his whole life (NOTE: maybe this is not true, check posts in February 2008 if you are that curious and you totally are.) I always enjoy bowling because it combines four of my top 46 favorite things: competition, dancing, recreating/pretending to be on America's Next Top Model, and fun shoes.

Then we returned to Mrs. Schmelter's "PARTY ZONE '0hGR8" (I just anointed it that) for chit chat. And, God, do I love to chit chat. All in all, I have some pretty awesome friends who are the only reason these days why I leave my house. God love 'em. Thanks all! Exoh, exoh.

P.S. Leaving for college is going to be so sad. Yeah, I said it.

*The truth is I'd probably be more interested in this blog if it had horizontal stripes. Alas, it does not. So we beat on, heads against the current.

Ahem..

I'd like to welcome myself to the blog. In a desperate attempt for new and interesting content Id A added me to the team. So while the level of wit and charm will certainly diminish ( to be honest it has already) post count will not.

But wow I'm bored of this already. I suppose I'll use this once in a while to complain and of course my awesome college idea.


..tshirts?

-P.P.

SUMMER '0hGR8 BEST SUMMER EVER

Want to know how awesome it already is? The Goo Goo Dolls song "Iris" came on the radio. I haven't heard that song in forever and I love it.

Also, this blog got pretty dusty.

SUMMMMEEEEEERRRRRRRRRR '0hGR8.