Friday
Another day of random quotes and notes.
Secret writing: "Christine is here. What perfect timing." I'm referring to my ex-girlfriend here -- who I met and became interested in on the Stratford, Ontario trip on which I found 1954 -- but I have no idea where "here" is. Probably Yvette's.
My mom forced me to go to a year of confirmation class sophomore year. I was completely uninterested, so I screwed around a lot and sort of culture-jammed the experience. I chose Zeus as my confirmation name, and got a lot of enjoyment out of making "Jesus" sound like "hey Zeus." I feel a little bad in retrospect for making the teacher's life more difficult -- getting teenagers to concentrate on anything other than themselves and each other is challenge enough.
No idea why Joe thought he might die, but I'm guessing it was something lunch line related. Glad he survived.
Saturday
Woah, I called my dad a shit head! Sorry, Dad.
My dad's car was an '89 Honda Accord coupe, with a manual transmission. It really liked 48 MPH -- I got another ticket about a year later in it, doing 48 in a 35. Interestingly, his license plate number was OV 4830.
I drove my dad's car a lot in high school and college, and it eventually became mine. Friends nicknamed it "The Ashtray," because my father smoked in it constantly. He also drank coffee in it -- out of regular coffee mugs. He claimed the reason he bought it was because the dashboard would fit a mug and had a lip, which held in most of the spillage. Not all of it, unfortunately: the stereo burned out from multiple splashes (first the CD player, then the radio), and coffee went into the A/C vents as well, so there was a constant smell of coffee and soured milk whenever the heat was on. My brother Peter drove it for awhile in high school, too, and he tried in vain to remove the stench of cigarettes and coffee. Years after the last Merit Ultra-Light was smoked, the windows would still fog up on mildly cool days.
The Ashtray became my brother's once again a couple years after I moved back to Chicago. When it finally died, it had 189,000 miles on it and still reeked of coffee and cigarettes.
The Brooke mentioned here was a good friend I met through my friend Bryant. She was fun and somewhat silly, and incredibly self-deprecating. She had a crush on my (and on Bryant, simultaneously) but never expressed it, and I was much more interested in her as a friend. Which turned out to be torture for her, as I had serial crushes on several of her close friends and went out with some of them, including Gaby and Melissa (more on her in a couple months), and put her in the position of being my confidant and moral support through those relationships. And then I all but cut off contact with her when I went off to college. (To be fair, I cut off contact with almost all my friends in Barrington, but it was particularly unfair to her.) Our friendship never really recovered from all that, which is entirely my fault. She had every right to hate me after all that.
I injured my knee sometime that day or the night before, and had a big bruise on it -- that's what my "quote of the day" is about. And the weird quote beneath it was written by Christian.
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