Bet You Didn't Know

Factoid Numero Dos
(that's #2 for you non-Spanish speakers)

I bet you didn't know that May 19 is quite a day for me.

Back at Central Catholic Highschool in 1996 (oh my, that sounds really ancient), when I was a junior in highschool, my group of friends and I were a bit of hellraisers. Back in '96, May 19th started out like any other day...

We first went to a party where we didn't drink alcohol, but I drank 8 cans of Surge, a short-lived soda that doubled the amount of caffeine in Mountain Dew, and sent my heart pounding for days.

After the party, we head back to a friend's house for more partying.

We get dressed up and decide to TP all of the houses of guys we had crushes on in hopes they'd ask us to the next homecoming dance (because, you know, TPing someone's house is the way to communicate desire when you are 16)...

So, I am wearing a long dress and heels. We're ALL ridiculously dressed up with an ungodly amount of toilet paper in the car. We squeeze seven into my friend Meg's huge Buick and take off, laughing about how COOL and AWESOME our idea is. Then we have another brilliant idea: let's throw rotten apples on the lawn and make signs on paper plates.

Then geeky me who is scared of breaking laws stutters, "Isn't that vandalism?"

Of course everyone ignores and moves on with the rotten apples and paper plates plan.

While we make signs that say ASK TRICIA TO PROM. ASK JEN TO HOMECOMING. I silently hope that I would get thrown out of the car so I can run home.

We stop at the first house. I am shaking my head. It's May 19 and only 9pm which means THERE IS STILL A LOT OF LIGHT IN THE SKY AND PEOPLE CAN SEE US.

I duck while my friends litter this poor guy's house. And then this poor guy walks out of his house with his girlfriend and we take off down the road, speeding 90mph down a cul-de-sac. Ugh.

House number 2.
We decide to TP the house, no apples or paper plates for this guy. Relieved, I get out of the car in my heels and, this being my first TP experience throw the TP in all kinds of directions. As the TP bundle lands at my feet, I bend down to pick it up and the wind blows right up my fanny and the long skirt I had been wearing flies over the back of my head and veils me from behind.

As I am flailing my arms because I can't see, my rear end exposed for the world to see with the TP in my hand, one of the neighbors comes out and turns on her light, "Um, girls, what are you doing?"

Blinded by a long skirt, I start running in the direction of where I think the big Buick is and finally free myself from my skirt and dive into the backseat...when we think everyone's in the car I scream, "GO MEG!"

She slams on the accelerator and takes off... and I didn't see that one of the doors was still open and poor Kara is hanging onto the open door for dear life screaming, "NO MEG!"

Which sounds a lot like my scream, "GO MEG!"

And Kara nearly got dragged by the car.

Fortunately, we pulled her in and we were all safe. Ridiculous, but safe.

It was only 10pm.

WHAT REBELS we were.

That night concluded with another party, probably more Surge for me, and talking about how we would always be best friends. We always said that if we could survive that night, we could survive anything.

Isn't it funny how we measure life's obstacles when we're 16?

I still keep in touch with some of those friends. They are still ridiculous and hilarious, but we've been through more serious things as friends. Some of them have children, some have had divorce, some have had illnesses.

But, we always email each other a greeting on May 19 that we dubbed "our day," to remember how great it was to be in high school, have your license, freedom, and especially friends.

Happy May 19 to Tricia ("Trick"), Jen ("Jenny-D"), Kara ("Deeters"), Meg ("Smeg"), Tara ("TLM"), Heather ("HK")...from Lisa ("Slee")

Late Night Out

Spell insomnia.

L-I-S-A.

No caffeine. No uppers. Nothing to keep me awake.

But I can't sleep.

N-I-C-K, on the other hand is snoring louder than our beloved space heater in our bedroom.

Happy Valentine's Day! And instead of getting a nice rest and putting Friday the 13th to bed, I am up, writing, blogging, brainstorming possible article topics because I can't sleep. I think the culprits are the two pieces of Ghirarhdelli chocolate I had five hours ago. For those that don't know, I rarely eat chocolate. (I heart vanilla.) I don't drink caffeine. And so, when I take a moment or two to indulge, my heart goes a little something like, "HEY! WHAT'S THIS? LET'S SEE HOW FAST I CAN PUMP BLOOD AND KEEP HER AWAKE!"

And my mind follows suit with, "HEY! LET'S THINK ABOUT WHAT I WANT TO GET DONE TOMORROW, WHAT I DIDN'T GET TO DO TODAY, WHAT I WANT FOR MY BIRTHDAY, HOW I WILL GET TO THE POST OFFICE BEFORE NOON, DON'T FORGET TO BUY GOAT CHEESE AT FRESH MARKET."

And I waaaant to sleep, but can't.

Nick and I returned home at - grab the sides of your computer screens - 1:30am.

GET OUT! I'm not lying.

It's like 2001 without college drama.

We met up with Books (aka Matt Thomas), his leading lady Janet, and our two friends Sam and Laura at a wine bar about 20 minutes from our house. It was one of those situations where you have no idea who everyone else is at the table (there were at least 8 other folks all crowded with us) for someone's birthday, but you don't have the capacity/energy/motivation to talk, so you just smile and mooch off their cheese plate.

Well, that's what I did anyway.

Afterward, we got all kick ass crazy and went to Panini's, a bar with 89% John Carroll students and I felt like the only female within 15 miles not wearing a black top (aka typical bar attire). So much opportunity for people watching. Why wish to go back to college days when you have the real thing right in front of you?

"I don't think I have to relive anything from college. I can just walk into the bathroom of any bar and find a drunk, crying, grasping her cell phone 20s something gal who is going through exactly what I went through eight years ago." - my comment to Nick at approximately 12:30am

"Do you remember in college when you saw that it was 12:30am and thought, 'Maybe it's time to head out to Dana's?' and now it's like, 'Get me out of this place. I want to go to bed.'" - Nick's comment to me at 12:31am

Regardless, it was a marvelous time and it was good to show that we're not completely old and gray and still kicking it.

Although, if you need further proof that we have graduated from young sprigs to oaks and cypresses, here is my newest thought:

The biggest evidence that I am old is that when I was out and about in college and decided not to didn't drink, my friends would pat me on the back and say, "Pretty bad hangover, huh?" Now when I go out, someone will glance at my water and say out of the corner of their mouth, "Probably pregnant."