I’m not one of those people that says guys and girls can never be friends, but I do think that every once in a while there arises a moment of uncomfortable one-sided romance. At these times, my natural reaction is a genius ploy of blind panic and an attempt to correct this imbalance by being twice the amount of “normal friend” to their abnormal. In theory this means it all evens out. In practice it means I act completely absurd. How unusual…

 

Case Study #One:

The situation–

Saying goodbye, but for some reason he won’t leave and instead gazes deeply into my eyes.

My response–

Upon assessing the linger and entering my initial stage of panic, I punched him in the shoulder. (I’ve seen this done in movies to a very desirable hey-ole-buddy-ole-pal effect.) Following this up with a slightly off-timed and manically cheerful, “Well, see you around!” I then backed away slowly, avoiding eye contact.

Conclusion–

Resembling to the advice I’ve been given for encounters with wild animals, this tactic seemed fairly successful. The arm punch was weird though.

 

Case Study #Two:

The situation–

Saying goodbye (hm this seems to be a dangerous time). Hug is strangely cheek-squeezy. Ie. I’ve never had my cheeks pressed so hard to someone else’s cheeks in my life. (This makes me suspicious.) Then pulling back, he cups his hands around my face and says, “Look at you. You are so beautiful.”

My response–

Feeling awkward, I scramble to prove that this is something normal friends do. Reasoning that if I can do it to him without being romantic, it will reverse-logic prove that we are totally chillin in an equally friend-like relationship, I take his face in my hands and say, “Look at you, you are so beautiful.”

Conclusion–

This did not help the awkwardness of the situation.

 

Final results of the study:

Upon reflection, quickly extracting oneself from the situation seems to be the best technique. Out-weirding the weird did not go over so well.

 

Does anybody has further case studies or escape tactics to report? Science for the good of friendships everywhere…

Last night I went to my first bike party. Also spent the most time on a bike since I was one of those accursed freshmen in high school without a license. The bike party itself was fun, but I am currently finding the day after more amusing.

1)The hangover. I am a lightweight, so I spent this morning sitting on the couch with my dog, watching National Geographic and eating toast. But the more un-delightful day-after effect of the bike party is that my crotch is broken. I should have worn like 10 pairs of underwear and 3 maxi pads to this thing. Next time I will know to protect the jewels. Or whatever the vagina-equivalent is. My current crippled state begs the question, people do this professionally? My sympathies.

2)My parents’ commentary. They drove me to the starting location, and this morning they shared with me their thoughts on the gathered crowd.

Mom: “There was this really hoodie-looking guy.”

Hoodie-looking? Not from da hood or a hoodlum. Hoodie-looking.

Dad: “They looked like a bunch of gang-bangers. All they were missing were some teardrop tattoos to show how many people they had killed. Killed by running over them with their bikes and jumping up and down on them.”

So this is how the older generations sees us youths…

People of the world (we’ll be optimistic with that “world” part),

I am not proud of what I am about to show you, but some things are too funny not to see the light of day. When I returned home, I knew I had some comedic gold stashed away- I’ve kept every diary I’ve ever written, and I’ve written faithfully from a very young age. Now I went and unearthed these treasures, but I had forgotten (more likely repressed) what a horrifyingly idiotic child I was. What is about to follow are the multi-lingual (though by no means correct), shallow, ramblings of a fool. Ie. the precursor to me now. Not even a pretty little fool- I was like a greasy walking Abercrombie advertisement.

Please do not judge me too harshly. Ohhh but I know there’s no help for it. Judge away, but at least have a good laugh while you’re at it.

Ahem:

Allo mon Ami!

U R my new diary. Or shall I say tu a ma nouvelle diary. Today school went as usual. I got a 15.5/15 on my roman gravestone. Muchos more than I expected. Flabby Babby (Ms. Babb) still wildly CraZ. At brunch I found out Ariel is having a Halloween party and got myself invited. Vair, vair, disappointing that I was not already on the list since I have been eating w/ Ariel 4 atleast a month and a ½ . They still could just have put my name on the list and not really invite me. Hopefully not. Anyway. At lunch everything went as usual. Waterfight, Austen throwing soda on Taylor, Shelly gushing over Austen. I 2 happen 2 like Austen, but always considerate I put my friend first and will keep my pash 4 Austen 2 myself. After school I walked 2 the library and got Wuthering Heights and the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Then I came back 2 school and walked Angela home w/ Shelly, Taylor, and Jack. Then I got my Vball uniform out and changed. I was still feeling tres malade avec pencil shaving sore throat as we got ready 4 our game against Kennedy. To make matters worse I was in the game 4 a total of 3 serves. Make account, none of them mine. When my mom talked to asshole (Shae)(coach) about it he said, “Which one is she?” Oh tres amusant our coach. He wasn’t joking. We still won ourgame and a few Kennedy Parents said we were better than Jordan. When I came home parents yelled at me about Babb, then I ate soup and had a little cry. When I started homework mom brought in cookies and we all made up. I finee devoir and took a shower. Then I finished my book, Away Laughing on a Fast Camel. Now that was tres amusant. Then I got my backpack ready for school 2morrow and put on eye shadow. Now 2 work out my plan on how not to be a ditz in PE and attract Austen. Now, according 2 my studies, boys like you when you don’t like them. So here ees ma plan:

1)   Ignore Austen unless spoken 2

2)   Work hard at football

3)   Open mouth little or none unless unwanted gabble comes out

4)   Be awesome at game.

Now hopefully this will work. Let me memorize it then eat it. Just kidding! Hahahah. Not. Hahhahaha. Not. Hahahahahha.

-An example of the gabble that comes out in PE.

Note to self. Add- get better laugh. Now somewhere between cackle and singing moose.

Bon Nuit!

Ali Lake

So that’s what I was like as a 12 year old.. Let’s just appreciate that one moment where I did something on the verge of being intelligent by checking out Wuthering Heights and Hunchback. On the other hand I must note that the book I had actually read, Away Laughing on a Fast Camel, is one of the trashiest pre-teen novels there is, which is where I got most of my idiotic/half french diction from. We must ask, why was I putting on eyeshadow at the end of the night? Also, why is this master plan the same basic outline for my boy entrancing strategy 9 years later?

Well I know you all are wondering how this master plan of mine turned out…

Chere Diary,

C’est 11h28, almost time for nuit nuit. Much time has past since last entery. I have tried my plan- here are the results-

  • Ignore Austin- Check. Have not been spoken to; easy peasy.
  • Work hard at football- Check. I must say I tried, and I am a mastermind. I came up with some ingenious plays!
  • Open mouth less- Check. gabble has decreased, time to work on saying inteligent stuff now.
  • Be awesome at game- err… as awesome as I can get.

New Goals:

  • Be kind to others (kindness is always beautiful) (right?)
  • Say normal, funny, things to friends.
  • Talk to Austen once this month
  • Keep up the awesomeness

Sounds okay 4 now!

Bon Nuit!

Ali Lake

Well it’s good to know my heart was in the right place with that whole ‘Be kind to others’ stuff… Hey and talking to the boy I liked once a month- that was daring.

Ok I must end with an excerpt from the next entry, which is mostly boring.  I spend a great amount of time analyzing whether my gym teacher is a pervert. My suspicions being founded on the fact that he said he’d love to see me “perform” (quotes from my 12 year old self). According to mini me, “There’s something a little “off” w/ him. I’m being very attentive so this doesn’t lead to sexual abuse.” (It doesn’t.)

But that’s not the highlight, this is: I recount our lunchtime activities-

“We all had fun, Shelly read us a scene from her new, incredibly dirty, book. My personely favorite quote, ‘Fuck me now.'”

Ah, youth.

So petty, but I’m loathe to take any shit.

schooled

This started with me complaining about rehearsal texts, which L then pointed out to our other friend as being severely ironic. More textual bitch slapping ensued.

D2 D1

myvaginaiswithering

That venus flytrap picture feels quite graphic now, doesn’t it?

 

I wanted to get you a souvenir,

because I really do wish you were here.

 

On a layover in between flights.

Strolling and seeing the gift-shoppy sights.

 

I had the idea and it really seemed great,

but I’m having trouble finding something you won’t hate.

 

At first I was looking at those racks of keychains,

But I wouldn’t even counter-cyclical spend on those for Maynard Keynes.

 

Would you like a pair of reading glasses?

A bag of Swedish Fish, Starbursts, or Sour Patches?

 

What about a magazine? This gossip’s legit:

Jenn’s back with Brad, he and Angie are split!

 

I’ve never seen such a prestigious Chex Mix collection:

Traditional, Cheddar, Bold, Hot n Spicy, Trail Mix, Choc & Pnb Confection.

 

Plushies, romance novels, baseball hats?

I wasn’t going for any of that.

 

On the walls hung packages of Jack Links Beef Steak Nuggets,

But I couldn’t decide between Hickory Smoked and Teriyaki, so I just said fuck it.

 

I guess this will have to be your souvenir,

A poem to say that I miss you my dear.

I was going through papers cleaning up my room and found some brilliant poetry of mine from high school. This one was to my best friend- we always used to go on walks at night and talk about our lives. It reminds me of some other very blog-worthy stories I have to tell involving her. Stayed tuned for The Night of Fifteen Boys and a Mountain Lion…

Elephant Hobo Suit

I have this little outfit,

it really is quite cute.

One of my very favorites,

I call it Elephant Hobo Suit.

 

Big grey sweats and hoodie,

Goes well with messy hair.

No boy could resist it, could he?

That’s why I’ll never share.

 

This suit’s for one girl only-

My very bestest friend.

I wear it on late night walks with her

cuz she’ll be with me til the end.<3

When I go home on break, things always get interesting.

image002

I officially drove coast to coast! Or gulf to coast, but let’s not get hung up on technicalities.

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So what did I learn driving across America?

1.) The States are beautiful. I’ve read many accounts of road trips where people say that their main realization is that America is BIG. Even Rachael said it to me. But I honestly didn’t feel that way. If anything, driving took this huge, mysterious mass of land that I’d fly over made it into a real, comprehensible distance. I drove across the map, and it didn’t take that long. It certainly was no Oregon Trail. The main thing that conveyed a sense of distance to me was the change in geography. I went from tropical beaches in Florida, through swamps and bayou in Louisiana, to fields in Texas, plains in New Mexico, desert and mountains and red rock canyons in Arizona, finally to rolling hills and the Pacific Ocean in California. That was beautiful.

IMG_3450 2.) I like driving. When I was little, I couldn’t understand why anyone would ever go on a road trip for pleasure. I hated when my family would drive to Tahoe, and that was only 4 hours. But I loved driving across the country. It was exciting! I was always anticipating where we would go next, and tired from where we had just been, so I didn’t mind hours in the car. I didn’t get bored- when I was driving I was happy to watch the landscape change, and there aren’t many opportunities better than driving through the desert to see just how fast your car can go. (To avoid indictment I don’t think I’ll answer that question ha.) When I was in the passengers seat, I had a great time just being with the other person- talking with Rachael about everything from boys, ballet, and school, to syphilis in african-american males, religion, and our opinions on abortion; eating Twizzlers with my dad and listening to Bob Dylan. The only part I didn’t like was when I thought we were gonna run out of gas and die in the desert. Which brings me to

3.)Always have a half tank of gas. You think there will always be gas stations, but sometimes there won’t. For 80 miles of anxious, nail-biting hell. http://alilake.com/near-death-in-the-desert-and-bats-in-carlsbad-caverns/

4.)NEVER STAY IN A SUPER 8. This is of the utmost importance. Unless you like bed bugs or strange men knocking on your door at night, do not go here. Never, ever.

5.)In fact, don’t even bother with hotels. In New Orleans and San Antonio we used Airbnb, and it was the best. In New Orleans we stayed with these funky hipsters who let us use their rickety bikes to jostle and jolt down Esplanade at night into the French Quarter. It’s one of my favorite memories. In San Antonio we stayed in the dream house I never knew I even dreamed of. It was this huge, two-story spacious Craftsman that we got to ourselves because our hosts were on vacation. We just hung out with their dog, cat, and chickens and played house. Rich people house. Staying in homes instead of hotels made visiting these cities more personal. We were with locals who took the time to make lists of their favorite restaurants, bars, places to see, and things to do. Plus they checked in on us and were so friendly. Our San Antonio hosts even emailed us a list of their favorite things to do in New Orleans because I had mentioned we were going there first. It was great, and we felt totally safe in their homes. After your stay, your hosts rate you and you rate them in return through the Airbnb website, so that other users and hosts have references for future bookings. I’ll definitely be using Airbnb again. https://www.airbnb.com/

Check out where we stayed-

Hipsters with cool art and  a strange bathroom in New Orleans:

https://www.airbnb.com/users/show/988767

IMG_2988IMG_2989 IMG_2991

Rachael hated these, but I thought they were awesome.

IMG_2999 IMG_2997 IMG_2996 IMG_3001 IMG_3004 IMG_3003IMG_2995 IMG_2992

Strange poo art hanging over their toilet. I guess it’s like a Rorschach inkblot test, because we were talking about it over beignets (appropriate timing for sure) and Rachael thought it was a uterus, but I thought it was a heart.

IMG_3008

Jesus is watching you.

IMG_3005Dream home in San Antonio

https://www.airbnb.com/users/show/698312

IMG_3261

I really want a blue desk now.

IMG_3263 IMG_3264 IMG_3268

6.) This is a delicious snack. Taught to me by my sister: rice cake, hummus, avocado, salt and pepper, sriracha.IMG_3873

7.) This is the best song for driving across the South:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1gX1EP6mG-E]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvKyBcCDOB4]

Whenever I hear this I’ll always think of driving with Rachael through the New Mexico night, windows down, hands in the wind, blasting this song and belting it out into the desert air.

8.) Sometimes it’s a small world, sometimes it’s a big world. Appreciate the old and the new. <3

 

Because it’s what all the cool kids do when they’re left alone on a Friday night. At 9pm.strip club1Jumbo’s Clown Room is really more burlesque exotic dancing. They strip, but it’s only down to their underwear. I write about it in http://alilake.com/stefons-guide-to-la/ . But the next night there were repercussions. Well, honesty is the best policy. Even if you have to confess while hiding your head under a couch pillow. True friends accept you for who you are and also want to go to strip clubs. Plus they give you ones to throw on the stage.

strip2

IMG_4145

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