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2009-01-07 - 8:22 p.m.

Memory Lane, Part II: The Weirdness

So.

*clears throat, looks around*

After sending that page-long email, I heard back from David the high school hottie dude, who was shaping up to be completely insane based on his blog.

You know the saying that goes something like, "There are two sides to every story, and then there's the truth"?

Well...

Apparently he thinks the ex-wife is the one who's insane (but of course!) She wouldn't let him see the kids, didn't follow court orders, changed the boys' last names, did some other illegal stuff, and was recently served with contempt of court papers because she didn't show up and blah blah blahtity blah.

At this point, who the hell knows what the actual truth is. But the really interesting part about this little saga is that the reason he works with homeless folks is because he used to BE homeless.

Holy fuckballs, people.

There I was, whining to him about how my career path has been less than fulfilling, and he writes back and tells me about his disabilities (bi-polarity and diabetes), how he couldn't manage to hang on to a job for very long, how it took him a year to finally receive disability benefits and how he wound up on the streets (twice), "squatting" with other homeless.

He rambled on about his community activism, his volunteer efforts, and his job providing refurbished computers to low-income families. He's excited he's on the road to getting to his kids back, and seems to be making some headway in life.

The whole time I was reading his email, I kept getting the [sing-song, high pitched voice] "weirdo!" vibe. He's got that crazy-ass raving loony Vietnam veteran kinda deal going on. Bitter, paranoid, obsessed. A tad off the grid mentally, if you will.

Of all people I figured I'd wind up getting back in touch with via email from high school, he was the last person I expected. And of course, he winds up to be a kook, who makes my life seem spectacular in comparison.

I wonder if he went to our 20 year reunion and stood by the punch bowl in a tattered army jacket, scowling and mumbling to himself? When someone sidled over for a drink, I imagine the conversation would go something like this:

Random Classmate: "Hey, David! Good to see you man! How's life treating ya?"

David: "Who are you? Who sent you over here? My ex-wife? Where is that fuckin' lyin' backstabbing whore? [stands on toes and looks around the room] WHAT DID SHE DO WITH MY KIDS?"

R.C.: "Um...dude, easy. It's me. Jeff from Chemistry class. Remember?"

David: "Chemistry is for Nazis. Who sent you?"

Jeff: "I have no idea what you're talking about, man. My wife asked me to get us a drink. Could you do me a favor and hand me a couple of those glasses?"

David: "So your wife sent you over here. Your WIFE. Right. Best enjoy it while you can, until she freaks out and runs off with your children. She will RIP OUT YOUR BEATING HEART, SQUEEZE IT UNTIL IT EXPLODES, LAUGH IN YOUR FACE AND DISAPPEAR WITH YOUR FUCKIN' KIDS!!"

Jeff: "Ummmmm, I don't have any kids. And I need to go, so..."

David: "Sure, man. Here, let me give you my card."

Or, you know, something like that.

Bottom line, I'll (probably) write him back, but I'm pretty sure this little reaquaintance will fade out as quickly as it cropped up.

*whew*

On the upside, my gal pal from high school (Jenna) wrote me a wonderful, long, hilarious email. She's been married for about 10 years to her second husband (who was also her best friend when they began dating), has 1 daughter (16) from her first marriage and 2 boys (8 and 6) from her current marriage.

The eldest boy is a surfer/sports/musician type and "the one most likely to smoke pot if approached." Hahahahahahaha! Amazing you can peg kids this early nowadays, but they are "watching for it."

The younger boy is more of a loner and free spirit, who "looks and acts" just like her and "rules the household."

Her daughter is a horse fanatic, and not only wants to be in the Olympics for eventing, but also wants to sell Mary Kay cosmetics. So she pushed her mom to sign up as a consultant so that she, as a minor, would be able to sell products as well. (Ambitious. Ya think?)

Jenna is a personal trainer and teaches outdoor boot camps twice a day. Daaaayum.

Her brother is wildly successful with a wife and 3 kids, with one on the way. Her sister is married with 2 adopted children and loves being a mom. All the siblings live in the same area, as do her folks, who are doing fine.

I used to ADORE going to their house when I was a kid. First of all, it always smelled like Tide laundry detergent. It permeated the entire house. I remember they had a carpeted kitchen in their first house (a short jaunt from ours in an adjoining neighborhood), and when you'd walk in the side door, you'd get this instant burst of warm Tide smelling air (the washer and dryer were in a closet right inside the doorway) and then pad along the carpeted hallway through the kitchen, up the off-white shag carpeted staircase to the bedrooms.

They had a sunken living room with a baby grand piano, acoustic guitar in a stand, microphone in the corner (Jenna sometimes sang for guests), brick fireplace, comfy sofa and chairs, and brown and orange decor of butterflies and mushrooms (it WAS the 70s, after all). It was a Spanish style house and there were wrought iron black candle holders on the textured walls. It was the coziest, warmest and most wonderful place.

Her parents were super cool. Fun and relaxed. Down to earth. I saw a lot more of her mother, since she was a housewife. She was thin and gorgeous, with a short curly black hairdo, olive skin, always perfectly made up. She used to stand in the kitchen in her bare feet on that carpeted floor, near the sink, smoking a cigarette and ask in a chirpy voice "So what are you girls going to do today?" while we swiveled around in chairs by the glass topped kitchen table.

Usually our response was "play Barbies"(Snoopies/dolls/etc). We both had Snoopy and Belle stuffed animals and would endlessly dress them up. Lots of times we'd go swimming in their pool, or bike a mile down the road to the 7-11 for as much candy as we could buy with handfuls of spare change.

Jenna was one of my closest friends between the ages of about 10 to 13 or so. Then once we hit high school, we grew apart. She was in theater and drill team, and I got into art and other clubs. We ran in totally different crowds and became strangers. We had that thing where if we ran into each other in the hallways, there was an awkward wave or a brief hello and we quickly moved on. With her theater work, she became very well-known around the school and more and more popular (plus more gorgeous every year).

Turns out, one of her best friends was a gal I had several classes with. We weren't close, but I'd known her for years and she was totally cool and sweet. She was the one who suggested I go to senior prom with John (who had dropped out earlier in the year -- NICE!) but he wanted to go and needed a date. As it happened, John was also big buddies with Jenna, so in a strange way I was kinda flung into her circle of friends indirectly. A few weeks after prom, we graduated from high school. I still remember this part clearly: I was bumming around the house one day in June, the first week of summer vacation. Out of the blue, the phone rang and it was Jenna. This is the first time we'd talked on the phone in years. She was hanging out with John and some other folks and asked if I wanted to go to San Antonio that day and visit Sea World. I leapt at the chance. First off, I couldn't believe my old friend Jenna had just phoned me, much less invited me on an out-of-town trip. Secondly, holy shit, Jenna had been voted the most popular girl our senior year...and she wanted to hang out with ME.

We had a great 3 hour road trip to San Antonio, but Sea World was closed for some reason that day, and I think we found something else to do and then turned around and drove back.

After that experience, we were inseparable all summer long.

At some point that summer, I went with Jenna to Austin to see her boyfriend. He was having a party, so we drank and partied with all his buddies, and then someone whipped out a bong and that was the first time I smoked pot. I still remember getting stoned, crawling around on the floor like a dog. I felt so completely relaxed and jelly-like. I kept saying over and over "I HAVE NO BONES!" Everyone was giggling and pointing at me, and shortly afterwards, I vaguely remember making it into bed and passing out.

On the way back to Houston, after Jen lit up yet another (Yves Saint Laurent) menthol cigarette in the car, I asked if I could try one. She gave one to me, taught me the basics ("hold it like this....ash it like this") and I was hooked. Well, not technically, but she always smoked around me and I began to partake more and more, bumming cigs off whoever had one. I think I stole a few here and there from mom's packs, but they weren't menthol and I didn't like that. I remember the day I went to Walgreens and bought my own package of YSL menthol cigarettes. I felt so guilty. Yet happy. I had my OWN. Didn't have to borrow any.

Mom didn't find out for a year that I was a smoker (besides my mom, my brother and his friends smoked in the house A LOT, so there was nothing that really clued her in that I was smoking too).

I once blamed Jenna for being the reason I started smoking and she balked and chided me for that remark. She was right. It was my fault. But damn her for making it look so fucking cool! After living with a parent who smoked all my life, and a brother who smoked for several years, I figured at 18 I'd managed to avoid the trap. I certainly wasn't forced to take up the habit (it's amazing I didn't start sooner) and I could've easily stopped myself in the beginning. But I didn't. I became a smoker. *sigh*

Bad Halo.

Jenna stopped smoking cold turkey just a few years later (when she became pregnant with her daughter), yet I'm still puffing away.

WHY DIDN'T I GET KNOCKED UP IN COLLEGE?

Ugh. Stupid Halo.

I could have a teenager and be a non-smoker now!

Well, the non-smoker part is appealing, at least. I was always rather proud of myself for not getting myself knocked up too young. Or by a total dick. Or too young/by a dick/out of wedlock.

Wooot! GO ME!

I think I've mentioned this before, but every grandchild on my mom's side of the family (8) has had kids, except me. Out of all those grandchildren with kids, only one has not had any "bastard" children. I still can't keep track of my 4 girl cousins (mom's brother) who have had a shitload of kids, from a shitload of men. They're already on second/third(?) husbands, new boyfriends, stepfathers (with their own kids). It confuses me to no end. All I do know is if you start trying to figure it all out, you wind up with a mess of shit.

Doesn't anyone stay together anymore? And beyond that, doesn't anyone wear a condom anymore?

Did anyone think the Brady Bunch family dynamic would rule the WORLD someday?

Guess what? It has.

And guess what else? Jan is totally fucked up the ass. Per usual.

*shakes head*