I’m going home to Washington today!  Lisa is getting married.  True story: more than once when I have been talking to bloggers in real life, I have mentioned a friend and someone has said, “You mean, Lisa?”  In every case the answer has been yes.

Lisa who has been my friend since the very first day of ninth grade (and who recently betrayed me by moving to DC) is getting married in Seattle.  I will be doing my part by walking down a marble aisle in crazy heels while trying desperately not to fall.  That is just the kind of friend I am, though we have already decided that me falling would make a great story that we would probably reference forever.  Maybe that is just the kind of friend I am. (What I’m saying is that if I fall, it was totes on purpose.)

Lisa getting married seems like a perfectly normal thing, but it is also kind of absurd, because we generally talk about ourselves as if we have never accomplished anything and will die alone, Lisa with her cats and me with my books.   For instance, we both did really well in high school (and have always and forever done well in school), but when we were waiting to get a test or paper back, we would talk as if we thought we had failed.  Every time, regardless of how often the grade was actually an A with an underline (or the elusive double underline, which only Lisa ever received).

We talk about ourselves now as if we have not accomplished anything since high school, but Lisa is a lawyer and I am very close to a PhD.  We also don’t live with our parents and have never spent time in a foreign prison.  I haven’t even mentioned that we are accomplished board gamers.  I don’t expect that Lisa actually getting married will change any of this.  Even when we retire like the Golden Girls, we will probably still talk about ourselves like we are not expecting an A with an underline, whatever that might represent.

So, it is going to be a great weekend.  Congrats to Lisa and Matt!

Lisa and I met in the sixth grade, but we didn’t become friends until the first day of high school.  She was the only person I recognized in Symphonic Band, so we stuck together even though I thought she was weird and she now claims she thought I was weird too (I don’t believe it).  We were in the same College Prep Earth Science class after that and then it was lunch.  We claim it was our shared love of NSYNC, but I think it was actually our shared anxiety over who to sit with at lunch, that formed the basis of our friendship.

You know I wouldn’t say literally unless I meant it.  After freshman year, we literally had every single class together.  And then there were all the pep band events, where since we both played the clarinet, we sat right next to each other.  Weekends we got drunk and hooked up with random guys, by which I mean played board games and watched NSYNC videos.  There were two hour phone conversations, some family vacations, and the Summer we decided not only to take Driver’s Ed, but also to master tennis.  We discovered that we’re better at eating large quantities of pretzels than playing tennis.

That’s how our friendship began, but I’ve been thinking about how it’s evolved.  About four years ago, we started sending random facebook messages.  Then they became regular facebook messages.  Then they became several-times-daily, multi-paragraph facebook messages with a series of rules, like every Monday Lisa is in charge of starting a new thread and we each must send at least one message in a day (failing to do so is called pulling an Ashley), except under special circumstances, like if we spent the entire day together or it’s finals week.

We spent a large portion of our friendship literally (mean it, again) standing right next to each other and a year living in the same room, but we both agree that our relationship doesn’t feel much different keeping in touch this way.   Plus now we have this record of our friendship that we are in fictional talks to get published as a coffee table book.

Whenever I think about quitting facebook, I think about losing four years of almost complete nonsense discussions with a bit of reality thrown in.  What if I need to remember why I’m supposed to live in a room in Lisa’s house that is decorated only in primary colors?!  This actually happened and neither of us could remember until we searched the messages.  In case it appears on a pop quiz about me : 1) Lisa will be my financial backer since she chose a career that might actually lead to making money. 2) We had long talked about me living in her attic as part of this deal. 3) In one message, I spelled attic incorrectly as “attack.” 4) This made us think of the game Uno Attack.  5) The room is to be decorated in the colors of Uno Attack, which are, as any Uno player knows, primary colors.

It’s not just the origin of inside jokes recorded, but the first time we ever mentioned people who now play a big role in our lives (and the many who came and went).  They’re usually referred to by nickname, which makes them easy to search.  And when we forget what the nicknames mean, that’s easy to search as well.

It’s silly to me when people complain about how no one talks to anyone anymore, because I still talk (like, audibly) to people all day long, but now I do a significant amount of my communicating by written word (text, email, blog post, tweet, chat, facebook message) as well.  It’s not about preserving these conversations for all time, because so much has been and will be lost, but at least for the moment, it’s cool to have something to point to or reread and say this really happened.

Except, I fear the day someone is about to give me an award for being a genius and then discovers that in February of 2011, I spent several days talking about themed foods to eat at a viewing party of Charlie St. Cloud, a movie starring Zac Efron.  (We’re thinking sad foods related to baseball or possibly sailing.  Thoughts?)

It’s bound to be an incomplete record anyway.  There’s so much unsaid and understood, missed and misunderstood. Even in trying to share pieces of a more than 12 year friendship, I’ve had to leave out so much of what makes these nonsense conversations meaningful.  But, it’s something, all these words we have between us.

On my recent trip home to Washington, I discovered that my mom now wears skinny jeans.  My first thought was that I needed to share this with the world (via twitter, of course), but I quickly realized that you really have to know my mom in order to understand how hilarious it is to see her wearing skinny jeans. So I texted my friend Lisa and when she demanded photographic evidence, I stealthy snapped a picture of my mom in her skinny jeans and sent it along as proof.  Our conclusion was that my mom is adorable and we love her.

I’ve had a lot of experiences like this lately where connecting with other people has felt effortless and I’ve felt understood, whether I’m making fun of my mom or talking about something more serious. It gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling inside, but I pretend not to be surprised that my life is suddenly full of amazing people who want to and do understand me.

Not that I am so difficult to understand, but that I’ve never made it that easy to get to know me.  I’ve mostly been happy in my life with many acquaintances, a few very close friends, and a lot of time spent alone.   If I took a step back, I would always think that my life needed more people in it, but I didn’t know how to make that happen and where do you find these people anyway and I don’t see a place where I fit.  I’d usually have these realizations during breaks from school or work when the everyday distractions of my life were cleared away, but then I’d jump right back into them and forget that anything ever seemed missing.

I suspected it would always be this way, because (like Jessica) I go back and forth about wanting to include more people in my life.   What I’ve discovered is that the right people make me not want to keep them at arm’s length.  Sometimes they creep in slowly, so as not to cause me alarm, and other times they jump right in, so I don’t have a chance to run away.  When you feel liked and understood by enough people, it changes the way you think about yourself, and it becomes easier to let people into your life.  And then one day in October, you take a step back and you think, how did all of these people get here and why is it they like me and how do I keep them from going anywhere?

I had to write a quick post, because I promised my friend Elyse that I would use this title. She came up with it when she was telling me that instead of reading the newspaper on her breaks from work, she reads my blog! I knew she knew about my blog, but I didn’t know she read it regularly. Friendships shouldn’t come with required reading, but it’s nice to know my two friends who know about this blog actually do read it.

Elyse and I met for coffee on Friday. We’re still just like the kids who met on the playground in Elementary School, except that we drink coffee and alcohol now. We spent our time together catching up on the questions we knew our parents would ask us about each other later. I came home to a lot of, What is Elyse up to? Is she a licensed pharmacist yet? Is she going to stay here in Washington? It’s not that we don’t care about the answers to these questions too, but we more often get distracted with things like planning Elyse’s imaginary wedding to be held on Thursday. My favorite part is that girls are wearing wizard hats and the boys top hats. Klassy.

After meeting Elyse, I did a quick drive by of my undergrad since I was already on that side of town. I miss those beautiful brick buildings. It’s really a campus designed to be photographed in the Fall. I wish I could see it then. I would love to teach there one day.

Yesterday we made the cross-state drive to Spokane. This is where my parents grew up, so all of my extended family is here. Yesterday it was drinks with my dad and siblings, then dinner with grandma, then drinks with my dad and brother. Today it’s lunch with my cousin and great aunt and then martini night with all of my dad’s sisters. I don’t consider my family to be big on drinking, but our activities suggest otherwise. Expect more of my this is what I’m drinking now tweets.

Tomorrow we head back to Tacoma and then I’m back to California early the next morning. Straight to work and back to reality. I’m not ready yet, but when am I ever? No choice but to jump into the deep end.

Lisa and I have had a number of insightful conversations over the last week, including one in which we concluded that Jesus definitely does cruise around heaven in a cloud car with the Care Bears when he’s not on his Segway.  Here’s another about the things we didn’t do in high school.

Ashley: Sometimes I come across my fake ID and laugh at all the trouble we got into in high school.

Lisa: We were such crazy teenagers! All those late nights that I don’t remember because I was soooo drunk. Right.

A: I know. I feel like I missed half of high school, since I was so wasted. I could have gone to Harvard if I wasn’t such a partier.

L: I probably would have gotten a full-ride scholarship plus stipend to Harvard if I hadn’t partied so much. Craziness!

A: I’d be teaching classes at Harvard right now if I hadn’t been drunk and high all throughout high school.

L: Definitely. They probably would have renamed the school Ashley University.

A: Professor Ashley at Ashley University probably wouldn’t have time to write these messages.

In case you’re confused about this conversation, because you perhaps actually did things when you were high school–things that were maybe against the rules, things you wouldn’t want your parents to know about–know that Lisa and I did not.  I can’t think of a single rule we broke.

When it comes to high school regrets, I swing back and forth between wishing I’d loosened up more and had more fun and wishing I’d buckled down more and dedicated myself completely to studying.  But, as it was and as it usually is, real life fell between the extremes.

It’s almost 2 am, and I’m sitting here eating crackers and drinking water.

I want to update you on my Valentine’s Day, because it didn’t go quite like I expected. Somehow I ended up on the floor of Lisa’s bathroom for several hours.

Sober Ashley showed up a little late, grabbed some wine and joined in the conversation. Tipsy Ashley ate some dinner and said several things that Sober Ashley would never say. Then Tipsy Ashley had one too many glasses of wine and transformed into Drunk Ashley. Drunk Ashley rested on the ground for a while until she was in the bathroom throwing up. She spent the next hour or two on the bathroom floor, recovering.

I feel the need to share this with you, because, well, it’s a first for me. I’ve never been that drunk before, and I hope to never be again, because it was miserable. Also, I don’t get to tell stories like this ever.

Other than my time spent on the bathroom floor, I actually had a good time. And, for the record, none of this had anything to do with being depressed on Valentine’s Day. It could have been any day.

As I was leaving, I said to Lisa: “Don’t think less of me.” I was just joking, but later I was thinking about how much I’ve changed. I am a goody goody. Long ago I had reasons for being so, many of them religious. When I realized most of that legalistic stuff was just crap, I gave up the silly rules. But, the stigmas weren’t so quick to fall away. I didn’t start drinking until I was 22, and even then, I hated buying alcohol for myself. It felt shameful somehow.

Maybe this sounds stupid, but spending hours drunk on a bathroom floor and feeling no shame for it–not even worrying that someone might think less of me–felt liberating. I gave up the rules, and the stigmas and judgment followed.

That said, I’m never drinking again.

Alternatively titled THANK YOU FOR BEIN’ A FRIEND

My friend Lisa and I are big on making plans. When it started ten years ago, we were incredibly optimistic. I would marry Lance from *NSYNC, she would marry JC, and we would both get PhDs in psychology. I actually remember the planning session where we guessed that it took one year to earn a PhD.

Our plans have gone all kinds of directions over the years. We’ve long since concluded that if our conversations were limited to reality, we would have run out of things to talk about by sophomore year of high school. As it is, we’re still going strong at 25, every day spinning some new kind of fiction.

But, the plans have certainly grown a bit more pessimistic since that initial planning session in my parents’ basement. I didn’t marry Lance, because he’s gay and psshhhhhh I’m no longer interested anyway! As for JC, I think a few too many years of bad hair and even worse clothing have turned Lisa off. Now, instead of planning marriages to boy band members, we’re coming up with alternatives to dying alone.

We both refuse to die alone and be eaten by cats. No, we will retire to Florida (or some warm place without giant bugs) and live like the Golden Girls, sipping drinks out on the lanai. I have to admit, it doesn’t sound like the worse case scenario. It sounds pretty nice.

This weekend was a bit different for me.  For 3 days, I ignored my responsibilities and hung out with my friend Elyse, who was visiting.  Here are some highlights:

• I was introduced to the card game Phase 10.  I’ve mentioned before that I love games.  But, somehow this one had slipped past me.  I think I’m the only one, because when I mentioned it on twitter, several people told me how much they love it.  I love it now too!

• My strange number dyslexia problem reared its head.  We were playing Phase 10, and I set down my cards, and Elyse was like, “what is that?”  In all seriousness, I said, “Seven, Nine, Ten!” like that was a legitimate run.  Yeah, it’s not a real problem for me, but it’s a good thing I didn’t become an accountant like an aptitude test told me to.  I’m pretty sure it told all of us introverts to be accountants.

• By the way, I’m not an alien.  I just have really long, scary fingers (evidence above).

• While a little tipsy, I told Elyse about the blog!  She proceeded to read through my 100 list, finding them all to be true.  It’s weird to read through a list like that with someone who knows you in real life.  I’m pretty sure the game loving, number dyslexia, and scary fingers are all there.

• Elyse had only been in my apartment for a few minutes when she noticed my Arrested Development box sets.  That was fateful.  We spent the rest of the weekend watching episode after episode, all of which we’d both already seen several times.  That show is freaking genius.  We were repeating quotes all weekend.  “Way to plant, Ann.”

• I tried Chick-fil-A for the first time.  It was good, but super greasy.  I had the chicken strips.  I think I’ll try something else next time.  This seems like a weird thing to have updated you all on three times now.  Thus concludes the Chick-fil-A series.

• Thank you all for your drink suggestions.  We did most of our drinking at home, so I had screwdrivers and greyhounds.  But, I’m going to keep your suggestions in mind, so I don’t embarrass myself in the future.  If nothing else, a 25 year old should know how to drink.   And that I did!  Here’s some evidence:

One more thing: I didn’t win a 20sb award. But, I just wanted to say that it was more than an honor to be nominated.  It was a freaking miracle.  Thank you to anyone who voted for me, but what I appreciate the most is that you read what I have to say and you take the time to tell me what you think about what I have to say.  Most of you are bloggers, so I don’t have to tell you how awesome that feels.

Thanks everyone for your awesome comments on yesterday’s blog.   I know I asked a lot of you.  If you’re interested in blogging, you should check out those comments!  Sorry I’m MIA from the blogosphere for the next few days, but I’m checking comments from my iPhone.

Number 100 of my 100 Things list is “I do drink, but I know nothing about alcohol. I usually have to ask someone for a recommendation so as not to embarrass myself.”

I’ve had a few drunken nights since I wrote that, but nothing has really changed. I’m still a novice when it comes to drinking.

My best friend from Elementary School is here visiting, and we have plenty of drinking planned.

So, I need your recommendations. If you drink, what do you normally order?

I opened up a facebook message from Lisa to find this:

Please don’t kill me. If you were on 48HM, the blog would be your big secret! You officially have a secret life!

I know this probably seems like annoying friend speak, so let me explain. First, Lisa is my best friend and–more importantly–the only person in my real life who knows about this blog. Second, I love the show 48 Hours Mystery. It only takes a few episodes before you realize they all go the same way. There’s a person or a couple or a family, and everyone thinks they’re perfect. But then someone goes missing or is murdered. As they solve the mystery, all kinds of secrets come out. Of course the perfect couple were secretly into swinging, the family wasn’t happy at all, and that nice girl was manipulating guys and then steeling their money. The people interviewed always say things like, “I had no idea. They seemed so happy.” I’m telling you, these people always have secret lives!

Lisa and I joke about how we’re not interesting enough to have secret lives, but if we were ever on 48 Hours Mystery, we’d say about each other, “I’d known her for 10 years, and I had no idea. She seemed so nice.”

But, my obsession with secret lives goes beyond that. A particularly painful part of growing up for me was realizing that you can’t put people on pedestals. It’s not fair, and they will always disappoint you. This didn’t happen for me until college. I found out that a couple people I knew were hiding things from me, that damn near every one of my academic and activist idols had some serious skeletons in their closets, and that people thought I was far more perfect and put together than I could ever possibly be.

It’s double edged, really. Part of me feels sorry for these people with secret lives–sorry that they can’t live honestly. And, part of me knows that we all keep pieces of ourselves hidden.

This idea of secret lives is really important to my novel. It was my way of working it out for myself. The main character takes the same journey I did (of course, way more dramatically) of accepting that people are always far more complicated and imperfect than they seem. And, to some extent, you have to let them be that way. At least, you shouldn’t make them always choose between disappointing you and being honest with you.

Now I’ve got a secret life of my own, and I don’t know quite what to do with it. Sometimes it does feel dishonest to keep this entire blog, and so many of the ideas in it, a secret from my friends and family and coworkers and classmates. Other times, I think that living honestly is far messier than that. Keeping this secret allows me to be honest in other ways. So, I’ll keep my secret for now. I just hope that if I’m ever featured on 48 Hours Mystery, you all will be available for exclusive interviews.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9z1iSg9xDko

Or, even if you do have real drama, this kind is more fun and has fewer consequences.

It’s 11:38 on Sunday night. I’m off at midnight. The thing is that I didn’t really sleep last night, so I don’t know how I’m still functioning. And, I’m functioning quite highly. I just finished a bunch of work for my conference travel coordinator job (that’s job #3, remember?).

Last night we celebrated Lisa’s birthday. I had somewhere in the neighborhood of four or five glasses of wine. On a mostly empty stomach. I was the life of the party. Well, not really since we were all about equally drunk. But, I was way more fun than I normally am. I’m pretty sure I told everyone. My exact words: “I’m only fun when I’m drunk.” I repeated it several times. For her part, Lisa kept repeating how I’m her oldest and smartest friend. She said it at least twenty times. I was flattered every time.

I feel like I’m giving off a bad impression of myself, especially to those of you who I know do not drink. But, I can’t lie. Alcohol makes me way more fun. Instead of just thinking things, I think them and then immediately say them. You’d think this would get me in trouble, but it doesn’t. Actually, it’s quite freeing. I talked. I laughed. I didn’t worry about what everyone else was thinking. Actually, I was much closer to the person I am on this blog. In real life, I usually have to know people for a while before I feel comfortable being me, but alcohol seems to get right past that.

Don’t worry. I won’t use it as a crutch or anything. I only get tipsy often enough to remember why it’s not worth it. It’s not worth the headache. It’s not worth not being able to sleep. It’s not worth this slightly queasy feeling I’ve had all day. And, it’s not worth potentially saying things I should really keep in my head. Or, maybe it is.

I’m normally very controlled in the way I speak and present myself. It’s not that I do it on purpose. That’s just the way I am. When I drink, I lose a bit of that control. It makes me nervous, but, again, it’s also kind of freeing. The only person I knew at a table of ten was Lisa, but that really didn’t bother me. Of course, now I’m remembering all the things I said last night. But, there’s nothing to regret, really. I’m laughing.

11:54.

Now the facebook pictures are surfacing. I’m grinning like an idiot in every one. I’m also sitting next to the same guy in every single one. I’m going to hear about this later.

11:55

It was a good night. Happy Birthday Lisa (today’s the actual day). Here’s to 10 awesome years of friendship! You stay NSYNC, all right?

11:59

I’m gone!

Back to Friday bullets!

• It was Tuesday and I was thinking, “What should I write about on Friday?” Sometimes I think a week ahead about blog posts, and sometimes I’m finishing a post at 1 am that I’ll post the next morning. I like to schedule posts to be published in the morning, because waking up to comments is the best thing ever. Anyway, I was tossing Friday ideas around when I realized, “Duh. This is Twilight Friday. I’ll post about Twilight!” Except, oh yeah, I haven’t seen the movie yet. So, all I can tell you now is that I’m really excited to see the movie this afternoon.

• I’ve been looking forward to Twilight all week, not just because I was excited for the movie, but because I was excited for Friday. I need a break, and I think I’m finally going to get one. Next week is Thanksgiving week, so I have no class.  And, I just learned that I not only get Thursday off, but also Wednesday! (I always have Friday off.)

• I had a scary moment of realization the other day.  I realized it’s almost the end of November, and most of my applications for doctoral programs are due January 1.  I meant to be better prepared this time.  I don’t know what happened.  The months just got away from me.  Thankfully, the Ashley of last week had the wisdom to schedule an appointment with the  professor who has become something of a mentor to me.  It’s really unlike me, but I just admitted that I felt behind in this whole process.  He assured me that unless I’m applying to Oxford, I’m okay.  I just need to devote a large portion of my Thanksgiving Break to getting everything in order.  The time sensitive part is getting my all-important recommendation letters.  I’ll be honest, the most exciting part about this is thinking that (if all goes well) I’ll never have to apply to another college again!  Well, except when I apply for teaching positions.

• Awesome news!!  My friend Elyse is coming to visit me in January!  Things like this never happen, because almost everyone I know is a broke grad student.  January is the mid-point between my 25th birthday and hers, so we’re going to celebrate big.

• Speaking of turning 25, Lisa does it next week, so we’re celebrating this weekend.  Plans include a wine bar (oooh, fancy) and dinner.  I have the next month to make fun of her for being old, and then I’ll have to make the move myself.

• I want to thank everyone for your supportive comments on my post about Adorable Boy.  You all are really too nice to me. I’m going to make you proud one of these days.

Have a great weekend!

Lisa and I need your opinions.

You know Lisa. She’s been my bff for 10 years (then 14 going on 15, now 24 going on 25–gah), and she’s the only person in my real life who knows about this blog. Thankfully, she’s good with secrets. When she’s not busy exchanging 3593490 facebook messages a day with me, she’s studying the law here in Southern California.

Lisa and I have joked over the years about how we’re almost the same person. It’s not true. She’s taller. But, in some ways we are remarkably similar. Like, we’re smart girls, but we don’t understand the social habits of normal, outgoing people. We’re both self aware enough to know what we don’t know, but still unable to crack the code.

What eludes us most are outwardly friendly people. You know, those people who aren’t appropriately turned off by shyness and awkwardness, and instead keep reaching out. We don’t understand the motives of these people, and often unfairly, we question them. Lisa stares at these people like they’re crazy. I’d like to think I look a little more subtlety confused, but I probably don’t.

Now that I’ve convinced you all that Lisa and I are sufficiently weird, I’ll get to my point. Lisa has encountered one of these outwardly friendly people at school. It started with repeated questioning regarding the architecture of her undergrad about which Lisa knows nothing, and has escalated to the point where, on his insistance, they’re regularly carpooling to school. For this reason, we’ve named him Carpooling bf.

As I understand it, he’s a nice guy. But, Lisa’s been mildly concerned that he’s interested in more than friendship, which is a problem, because she’s not interested. So, she’s acted a little distant and sent all the friends-only signals she can. She’s responded politely to all his IMs about nothing. But, yesterday he asked if she wanted to get a drink after school. Weird, because it was only 3 pm.

I’ve always heard from male friends that a guy won’t bother with all that just to be a girl’s friend. But, since we’re incompetent in the ways of normal outgoing behavior, Lisa and I aren’t sure of Carpooling bf’s motives. Lisa doesn’t want to lead him on, but he doesn’t seem to take any hints. I, myself, have always dealt with situations like this by immaturely becoming cold and distant and clearly uninterested. That’s not working for Lisa this time.

So, questions:

1). Is it safe to assume this guy’s gaming for something more than friendship?

2). Not knowing his motives, how can Lisa get the message across that she’s not interested? Keep in mind that she’s a really nice person, and she’s going to have to see him at school for the next couple years.

Three things worth mentioning happened this weekend.

1. On Friday, the power steering on my car went out. I’m not sure why it went out, but it definitely did. I’ll take it in tomorrow to get fixed. Funny: until the moment I realized that something wasn’t quite right, I hadn’t thought before about what it means to me to have a working car. In an instant, I went from feeling like an independent adult to a helpless, scared little girl. That’s a total exaggeration, and I quickly got over it, but that’s how I felt when it happened. Cars always mean independence, but when you live away from home, you don’t have a lot of resources to fall back on. Maybe that sounds weird. I have friends to help me get where I’m going, I have a job to cover the cost, and there’s no reason I couldn’t take care of this myself, but that’s the thing: I like to do things on my own. The thought of asking people for rides makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to need anyone for anything. How freaking ridiculous considering I spend my days talking about what it means to live in a world where we’re all interrelated and dependent on each other. Still, I want to be an island.

2. I spent my Friday night in the library. Yeah, Friday night. I was feeling disorganized and a little freaked out about the stuff I need to get done. I couldn’t focus in my tiny box of an apartment, so I went to the library. And, finally–FINALLY!–I made some progress on my thesis. I finally have some idea of where I’m going. I want to get this damn thing done.

3. I went to a party on Saturday. Yeah, so, I’ve hit my quota for the semester. No, it wasn’t bad. I had a good time, actually. And, I discovered the wonderful powers of alcohol. I’m kidding; I discovered these wonderful powers a while ago. I know how terrible it sounds, but Tipsy Ashley is 324324 times better at socializing than I am. She’s relaxed, she says what she thinks, she doesn’t care what other people think of her. Good thing the distance between TA an I is covered in only one drink. It was nice to connect with people I see mostly only in class where we’re all pretending to have everything figured out.

Continued from yesterday.

4. Becoming friends with Lisa. I met Lisa in middle school. She sat next to me in band in sixth grade, and I thought she was weird because she was really quiet, and swabbed out her clarinet every single day, which no one else did. Always the rule follower. She now claims that she thought I was weird too, but she only started saying that after I said what I thought of her. I’ve had several really important friendships, but I would call my friendship with Lisa a turning point, because it really did seem to happen in an instant. On the first day of high school, we went from distant acquaintances to best friends. It had something to do with the fact that she was one of the only people I recognized that first day, but we also had a lot in common, and later we shared an obsession with *NSYNC (more on that another time). That first year of high school, we had almost every class together, and for the following three, we did have every class together. We also sat next to each other at every band event and hung out outside of school. We’re very similar people, and we spent the first couple years discovering all the strange things we had in common. Spending so much time together made us even more similar. Someone asked us once if we were sisters; Lisa is three inches taller than me and blond, but I guess we spoke the same and shared so many mannerisms that we could look related. Lisa is an incredible friend to me, and though we’ve never really been dependent on each other like some friends are, I can’t imagine my life without her or our friendship. The only negative thing I can say is that I think the comfort we took in our friendship and our shared timidity led us to be far too apathetic in high school. We both succeeded in school, and in that way, I think we kept each other in check and on track, but we didn’t push each other to step outside our comfort zones. Thankfully, the time we spent apart as undergrads gave us each the opportunity to test our limits more, and we’re better for it. Now we support each other as we pursue our separate interests

5. Moving home after freshman year. I only applied to two colleges. They were practically the same school, except one was here in the city where I grew up, and the other was in Southern California. Lisa and I decided to go to California. I knew almost immediately that I’d made the wrong decision, except now I call it a necessary learning experience and not a mistake. I was a disaster. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, I wasn’t ready to be away from home, and I wasn’t prepared to live in an environment where I was constantly surrounded by my peers. I was freaked out about money, and so I worked too many hours instead of spending time with my classmates. I was pretty miserable, and I’m proud of myself now for admitting my mistake and making the change necessary to make myself happier. I moved home and finished out my degree at the other school I had applied to. This point comes with good and bad like the others. I think I missed out on a lot of experiences by not staying away at college. Of course, those regrets have been softened now that my life has taken a happy direction it wouldn’t have taken if I hadn’t switched schools

6. Discovering theology. When you go to a private religious school, even one as crazy liberal as my undergrad, you have to take religion classes. I had already taken one my freshman year, and it hadn’t moved me, though I was far more religious at that time. So, I didn’t look forward to taking one more in order to earn my English degree. I originally registered for a class on the documents of the major eastern religions; I’d picked it because it fit well into my work schedule. But, I quickly learned that that class would not fill the necessary requirement, so I had to scramble to find another. The only one available was Introduction to Theology, which, because it was an intensive class, met every night for three hours. If I’d had any other options, I would have taken them. The class was taught by an adjunct professor who’d earned his PhD at the school I now attend. Not only did the class throw me into a complete theological crisis from which I’m still recovering, but it was some of the most fun I’d ever had in a classroom. I really didn’t talk much in the class, but our final paper was to reflect on the questions we’d been raising, and I got my draft back with some of the most encouraging comments I’ve ever received from a teacher. The class lasted only the month of January, and afterwards I began the second semester of my junior year, but I couldn’t get theology off of my brain. It was so interesting to me, and so deeply personal. On what felt like a whim, I added Religion as a second major. I took another class from that professor the next summer, and he gave me even more encouragement, and told me what I needed to do if I really wanted to pursue theology. On another whim, I applied to graduate school; I applied only to the school I wanted to attend, because there was nothing else I wanted to do. English has been my interest forever, but discovering theology usurped it instantly, and on a series of whims, I’m on a career path I never imagined.

It’s strange how when you choose to do one thing, you also choose not to do a million other things. I look back on these moments in my life with relief and regret. They all brought me wonderful things, but made so many other what-might-have-beens impossible. I can’t know how my life would be different if I’d made other choices or if other choices had been made for me, because one decision led to another, which led to another, which led to another to form a complicated web that cannot now be deconstructed. And, if I hadn’t experienced the things I have, then I wouldn’t be the same person.

Last night I witnessed the biggest fireworks show west of Chicago! That little fact was repeated about 349587 times, so there was no chance of me forgetting it. We like fireworks, but that’s not why we went to Americafest at the Rose Bowl. Oh no, we went for the marching bands. My friend Lisa and I love marching bands because we were once part of one, but it goes beyond that. They just make us happy.

I expected to have a good time, but I was surprised to have an awesome time. My inclination is so often to sit at home instead of going out into the world to do stuff with huge crowds of people. And, yeah, there was traffic and noise and people everywhere and huge lines for the bathrooms and outrageously priced food, but none of that subtracted from the fun I had talking to my best friend, watching awesome bands, and enjoying the biggest fireworks show west of Chicago!

Here are some highlights from yesterday:

• The first thing we noticed after we parked and got out of the car was that we were surrounded by young guys with really nice tans and no shirts on. The population of these types was so high that we actually had to comment. Everywhere we turned, there they were. We attributed it to the fact that we were in Southern California and it was a kabillion degrees outside. But, later when we were inside the Bowl, we noticed that we were no longer surrounded by these hot guys, but instead old people and children, all of whom were wearing shirts. We finally figured out that the hot guys were band members, and they weren’t wearing shirts because they hadn’t changed into their polyester uniforms yet, which, if you’ve ever been in one, you know don’t protect you from the cold and make heat unbearable.

• These were not actually full marching bands we were watching, but rather drum cores that consist of only brass and percussion. During one of the performances, I turned to Lisa and said something about a drum core, and she replied, “What about a drunk whore?” We almost died laughing. I guess we live in a culture where “drunk whore” is a more common phrase than “drum core.”

• Lisa and I always fear that someone will overhear one of our conversations and think we’re serious. It would be easy. We sounded serious even as we were making up a whole story about how there’s drama between the drum cores, and this was a showdown to end all showdowns. You could feel the tension in the air as the warring bands passed each other.

• The guy sitting next to me laughed when I proclaimed a little louder than I meant to that “Cedric Diggory is the perfect nice guy name!” Thank you J.K. for naming your characters so well.

• One of the drum cores was actually named Phantom Regiment and dressed in all white. This is serious stuff.

• I bought a beer without being carded. That’s always a shock to me. Up until a year ago, I was carded and then looked up and down suspiciously. People always thought I was 16 and not 23. But, since I lopped off my long hair and dyed it brown, apparently I look 30.

• Lisa surprised me with some 4th of July-themed rainbow chip cookies. We’ve been talking about them for a while, because I just discovered recently that you can use the rainbow chip cake mix to make cookies, but I didn’t want to try it because I’ve been on a diet and I cannot handle having an entire batch of cookies around. I didn’t know if I’d like them, because, forgive me, but sometimes I don’t like cookies. Anyway, nothing to worry about. They were amazing! I ate more than I really want to admit, but today I’m back to being healthy.

As I was sitting watching the fireworks last night, a wave of happiness washed over me, and it motivated me to take care of some of the things in my life that I’ve been avoiding. I’m generally very happy these days, but I let these little stresses and worries pull me down when it would be easier just to face them. So, that’s what I’m going to do today.

An exchange I had with my friend Lisa over facebook messages. I’d just watched the Olympic Gymnastics Trials.

Me: It’s not fair for these gymnasts to be so young and so small and so much more talented than me.

Lisa: They aren’t more talented than you! I bet they can’t play the clarinet or use a semicolon properly or write a paper on process theology!