Notes from My Bestie

No real theme. Just hilariousness. And pictures. Love infographics, if you will.

The "Look, Look Away" Game

Well, it's been a while since my last post. I'm sure a bunch of you have been on the edge of your seat, dying to know whether or not Thomas liked me back, or if I was just left hanging as you have been. The good news for you (all one of you) is that you're about to find out!


However, I'd like to address my posting absence. I think I got a little caught up in making each post unique and clever, like each one had to be a nice little story all packaged up. And that, is exhausting. Because, really, how many times can I say "god, I was SUCH an idiot" and make it sound different? What I've come to realize is that every post doesn't need a bunch of commentary from me, because my idiocy speaks for itself. 


So I'm going to shut up now and just let you see for yourself what a teenager in love sounds like, extremely loud and incredibly close.


A note to Rachel & Bean:

From the "novel" I started:

Hawkes for the Holidays

So, tonight I went to a play called Holmes for the Holidays. In short, our group of friends is looking for more activities on weeknights and somehow ended up at the equivalent of teen night for young adults at the theater. It was a story about the actor that played Sherlock Holmes and a murder mystery that took place at his home over the Christmas holiday. Unfortunately it wasn't interactive and none of us ended up being the murderer or murderee in the show.


That's really neither here nor there, because after seeing them wipe the "blood" off of the murder weapon, I had a flashback.


When we were kids, my sister, brother and I used to set up little murder scenes in the kitchen, living room, etc. in anticipation of when my mom would get home from a walk. We'd put ketchup on a knife and my brother's shirt, have him lay down on the floor in the family room (in clear view from the door) and I'd act like I was crying over him. 


Convincing, right?


Well, at intermission I excitedly brought up this memory to my sister to reminisce about how crazy we were. 


She didn't remember.


So I texted my brother: "Remember when we used to set up murder scenes in the house for when Mom got home? Like we'd cover knives with ketchup and be laying on the floor?"


His response: "WHAT???"


He didn't remember either.


I assumed my oldest sister wouldn't remember, since she was already dating boys* at the time and likely wouldn't have gotten on board with trying to convince my mom that her kids were dead.


*Note: I know this because I remember we pulled the murder setup once after a particular visit from the police at our house. We had gotten home one night to an open door and the TV on - nobody home. So, naturally, we called the po-po. When they arrived, they determined that the house had been broken into and that the only room that was ransacked was hers. The truth? She was hurriedly getting ready for a date, trying on clothes and throwing them around her room and then ran out the door, leaving the house in such a state of disarray. 


Back to the point. 


So I called my mom. She laughed and said she "vaguely" remembered it. I'm glad to see that the traumatization hasn't been burned in her mind forever.


But still, in hindsight... what were we thinking? Sorry Mom. 

Mott's Apple Sauce

When a man loves a woman, he can do no wrong. But, when a girl loves a boy - things get a little creepy. 


First you come up with a code name for the boy in question. In this case, we can call Thomas the "apple of my eye", because his super secret code name was Mott's. 


(Hint: Take the first three letters of your name, reverse them, and come up with something clever. Are you a Mike? You're now Kim. Are you a Conor? You're now Knock. Are you an Anthony? You're now TiNA.)


The brand-naminess was hard to resist and my friends started bringing a lot of applesauce to school and slipping the lids into my locker, leading to a lot of "Ohmigod! You guyssssss!" moments.

Once a good code name is established, you can start writing notes freely. Mainly about how your friends are trying to convince the boy you like that they, in fact like you back.

They will also help you with important issues, like finding his phone number, providing topics to discuss during the first phone call, and voting on whether or not you should hook up.

The back of the pink sheet actually says, "Topics: - Navid, - Thursday Night"

Finally you're at the point where you can start sneakily (or not-so-sneakily, in my case) try to convince them that they have feelings for you.

The list... (I don't know where the last 13 reasons went.)

When that doesn't work out as planned, you can start writing notes that you'll never pass along or plan speeches that you'll never give.

And my personal favorite, you can doodle endlessly about your obsession and whether or not it is going to work out.

Some of the good stuff that I just have to call out:

- "I never should have signed off and I knew it."

- "Call him? Yeah, enough of this online shit. What time? Ninish?"

- "Hi, is Thomas home? there?"

- "If we have nothing to say just get off the phone. STOP STRESSING"

And... my repeated use of the lyrics to "Everything U R," which is actually a darn good song if you ask me.