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I thought I was having a goddamn heart attack
took me a few times to figure out that it was just heartburn
My grandma would make us sandwiches to take along.
And we would just spend all day out on the lake fishing off his boat or off the shore.
every time, a few panicked moments of wondering what the fuck is going on
then oh yeah these are headaches some people have these at a rate greater than annually
well aren't you super smart and cool
yeah congrats
One time we caught a 2 foot catfish we cleaned and fried.
That catfish tasted horrible.
naknaknaknaknak
It was brilliant. Walking around in the NY/NY hotel, hanging out with my family for the first time I could ever recall when we were all just friendly, hanging out and celebrating something without obligation or anything. Like, it was the first real time I felt like my parents were really my friends.
I remember my dad and older brother, both fairly into their cups at this point, arguing about rock and roll. Not like angry with each other, but my dad was into old classic rock and garage music from the late 60s and early 70s, back when rock and roll was really coming into its own and before it turned into stadium affairs. My older brother and I are both into similar music and its modern equivalents. We both like bigger acts, too, like Iron Maiden and such, but really appreciate simple small-venue rock and roll, and getting to converse with my dad about something like that was great. Hearing him say shit like "I don't go to a concert to see some washed up old rich guy waving his dick around" was a lot of fun.
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I hate public speaking, I get crazy nervous and it's always been a sort of irrational fear of mine. So when my dad is getting remarried and wants me to be the best man, I kind of freak out because I know I'll be expected to say some things. As the date gets nearer I get more and more nervous, until finally the big day arrives. It's a beautiful ceremony and a the reception is rolling along when the meals go out and suddenly there's a mic being put into my hand and it's time. All my carefully planned words were lost as all eyes settled on me. Yet against my every expectation a sort of calm washed over me; I looked over at my dad and his bride and just started saying what I felt at that moment, and before I knew it I was proposing a toast and then applause. Trying to recall what I actually said is no use, I can't do it, but I must've said something good because later that night my dad let me know that several people came up to him and mentioned how touched they were by the best man's speech.
One of my fonder memories of doing well.
edit: Thanks @Tommy2Hands!
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We had squirrel stew about an hour later. My sister refused to speak to my dad for a week afterwards.
I remember that we stopped for a while, with the promise of continuing when she got better.
She died that spring.
Kind of sad, I know, but I really do like thinking bout her teaching me. Everytime I bust out my crochet needles to make something (usually a scarf cause I only learned single and double chains) I think of her.
I was always amazed at her skill. She made us many fancy blankets and dolls and other things. Most of the time, she didn't even have to look. She'd just be going at it while watching her soaps or a Cubs game.
Ahaha. So many of those.
Instead though, I think I'll be a contributing member of society for a moment. This is actually something I wrote in my livejournal a few weeks back (shut up I still have one I hate you it's 10 years old and I'm not getting rid of it), so maybe later I'll write up something else. But for now:
Hershey's chocolate is crap. There is really no disputing this; it's the best chocolate you can buy in this country for what it costs, but spend even a few pennies more and you can get something so much more delicious, so much more flavorful, so much more satisfying as chocolate. I knew this from the very first moment I tasted British chocolate, and it's completely spoiled me for chocolate like Hershey's. The cheap crap chocolate they give their kids is better than some of the best American-made chocolate I've had.
Sometimes I crave a Hershey bar, though. It's not like that's such a strange thing for me; I often crave crap. Sometimes I feel like I would give a great deal to eat some 10-cent ramen. But Hershey bars are a little different.
When I was in 8th grade my doctor wanted to start getting me tested for hypothyroidism, since my mother has had it since she was very young. I'd never had blood drawn before, I just knew that shots sucked and this was going to take longer than that. I was scared and very tense, and my mom came in with me to hold my hand. At the moment the nurse prepared to insert the needle, my mom pulled a Hershey bar out of her purse. In that instant everything but the Hershey bar and the fact that my mom had a Hershey bar was forgotten and the nurse got what she needed without incident. I decided that blood tests weren't so bad.
Now whenever I eat a Hershey bar I think of that and it makes me smile and it doesn't matter that the chocolate is terrible.
Then again, going in for blood tests makes me think of Hershey bars, and I always very secretly hope that someone is hiding one to give to me. They aren't because I'm 30, of course, but the association works both ways.
I got a NES from a kind neighbour a few years after you got your Mega Drive.
But what I really remember is buying a GameBoy with my own hard-earned cash. £60! It seemed like a goddamn fortune back then.
I bought a Sega Genesis and Sega CD combo with my paper route money when I was 14 or 15.
That reminds me of when I saved over a month's allowance to buy this generic discman. When I finally got it I was the happiest kid. Just spent an inordinate amount of time listening to my Enema of the State cd, burned Staind cd that I got from a friend, Europop by Eiffel 65, and of course 2. B. A Master.
wait
hotdogs?
I fell out pretty early* on. I was bummed but oh well. Expected to be brought back to school by my dad who had accompanied me that day. Instead, we went out for lunch and I never made it back to school that day.
Dad basically made me play hookey. Big deal for me cause I was one of those perfect-attendance kids
* insight, I spelled it when an e :oops:
I was utterly amazed and delighted because even though I really really wanted it, I hadn't spoken a word to anyone regarding the fact that I wanted it.
My dad (or mum!) must have spotted Baldur's Gate installed on the aging family PC, and then noticed that the new one was coming out, and then jumped to the best possible conclusion
Treats for the dog, perhaps?
Oh yes, sorry if that wasn't clear
He was spoiling the dog with packaged hotdogs stolen out from under Gramma's watchful eye
We were partners in crime as the dog wolfed down the illicit treats
One of my fondest memories of high school was not being there to receive my perfect attendance award.
This wasn't on purpose, as I had an excused absence due to computer science team. But still, I just love the fact they assumed the kids receiving the perfect attendance award would actually be there to get it. My friends claimed the administrators looked pretty puzzled.
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but..that's cannibalism!
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That's just lovely. It's good to have these things corroborated!
Also @Stale I somehow missed the Oldsmobile story earlier but I am going to paraphrase that and share it elsewhere, if that's okay
That just warms the ol' heart, it does.
Like spending a week in Los Alamos, touring the labs and museums and shit for school. Seeing all the neat shit there and actually getting to use the supercomputers was fucking great! I think my LANL account is still live, I just don't remember the password (or account name) any more
We were there when they were upgrading the computer array. Moving from an old Cray setup (I think it was about 3 TFLOPs) to a much fancier system (17 TFLOPs?). They showed us some really complex equations and how much quicker the new one could crunch the numbers and I remember being just absolutely beside myself. Then they showed us the system dedicated to Pi which was neato too. Then a scientist dropped a racquetball into some liquid nitrogen, pulled it out and shattered it against the floor. Still have a piece of that ball somewhere
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I'm too fuckin' poor to play
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I was all excited about going to the OC fair today but I guess I can't
aww
My seventh grade history teacher was this old guy named Mr. Fulton. He was rad as hell. I have a pretty good history (see what I did there) of having a lot of really cool history teachers, and that's probably part of the reason I became a history major. Or at least it's the best reason I can come up with to do a dumb thing like that.
Anyways, Mr. Fulton. Crazy old history teacher. He had this little stuffed/rice filled frog. It was called Mr. Froggy. As a kind of joke thing, any time he got "angry" with us (which was often, but I sincerely doubt he was ever actually angry), he would take it out on this frog. Throwing it across the room or whatever. It was funny, he was creative about it, I mean shit, we were 12, that sort of thing is great. It endeared you to the man.
Now I don't know where I got this idea, maybe I was a little shit or something, but I decided to start hiding this frog. Like, so he'll have to hurt us? I don't know. I was twelve. I got progressively more and more creative about it, it was kind of a game that he and I played back and forth.
A couple years before this, my dog had been diagnosed with diabetes. I'd gotten her when I was three and she was pretty fucking beloved to me. My family had dogs, but this dog was mine. Or something. She went undiagnosed for a while, and was half blind from all this. One day I let her out in the morning before school and she disappears. I skip school, and spend the day searching for her. She was old and slow and blind and I have no idea how she got away so quickly. She just disappeared into the woods. I was pretty fucked up from all this.
This was near the end of the year, and it was Mr. Fulton's last year, and when he retired, he gave me Mr. Froggy. He's sitting next to my bed right now.
Junior year High School.
I liked playing music but I never practiced, so I ended up third chair which I was fine with.
One day the trumpet section, my section, just couldn't get a string of notes for the life of them. It was the same for all chairs so there wasn't any variation between 1st, 2nd or 3rd chair sheet music.
The band director (who was an unwarranted male diva and hated my guts) was making us play the troublesome part one by one down the line.
First chairs failed, frustrated.
Second chairs failed, deflated, but eh whatevs first didn't get it so why would we?
Now, I'm the 'leader' of the third chairs. This means I'm the best of the fuck-ups, so I get to go first for us. At this point the director was just being nice and letting us play along. Because heck if first and second chair couldn't play it, why would third be able to.
I nailed it. I belted it out perfectly. The notes ringing true throughout the practice room as a giant blazing middle finger to all of my 'superiors.'
Once I was finished I had to stop for laughing so hard. I didn't even notice what was happening around the room as I just sat there and finished chuckling to myself. I thought I heard some cheers.
I quit concert band the next year.
Making a parent proud feels really good
His lecturers "sucked", he claimed.
of @flateric