DRUM CIRCLE

Dear Young People That Are College Kids Right Now,

One day you - yes you - will come across a photo like this from your 'youth', your 'wild past' that will make you want to curl up and die. Perhaps not a photo of you in your 'hippie' days playing in a 'drum circle' at your southern women's college per se but something as equally as frightening.

You can do two things when you find this photo: hide it or share it. Technically, in my book if you make fun of yourself first - you win.

God I was so skinny and my arms looked great. Perhaps it's time to go back to drumming.

I post this now because E and I are four weeks away from our wedding. I think it's only fair that he finally knows about my 'wild' past. My past hanging out with fellow drum circle friends 'Rush' and 'Sandstone' (no...seriously) coming up with some 'new beats'. Yeah man.

But seriously, what is going on here? It looks like a bunch of homeless kids giving a congo drum presentation at a senior citizen home.

Who's condo is this? I half expect Morty Seinfeld to peek out from behind the curtains.

Possible flyer for this photo:

WANTED. FUTURE BANKERS AND LAWYERS AND TV WRITERS PRETENDING TO BE LAID BACK HIPPIES TO JOIN FUN LOVIN' SOUTHERN DRUM CIRCLE. MUST BRING OWN DRUM. MUST NOT HAVE SHAVED NOR GOTTEN A HAIRCUT IN PAST TEN MONTHS. DRESS-JEANS AND 'WACKY TOP' OPTIONAL - ALTHOUGH ENCOURAGED

It's funny how these things come back around to haunt us again.
It's because life man...is like just one big drum circle.

WHAT PROJECT?

Some things never change. You think they would but they don't. A few moments ago I was reminded of a project that was due today and I nearly had a heart attack. You don't seem to understand but I've been like this my whole life. Plan in advance? God forbid no. It's bad.

I recently found a photo flashing me back to a time in my life where I had a lot of these last minute panic moments. College. In particular, the moment I am thinking of is the day before my senior year exam in photography where we had to shoot, print and mount a series of photographs (around 20) to present to a panel of art professors for our final grade. Y...e...a...h. People worked MONTHS on this project and yet somehow it managed to slip my mind. Duh.

I remember the moment when I 'came to'. I was sitting on the private back patio in my bra sun bathing with a friend of mine. (It was an all women's college) We were soaking in the rays and counting down the days until we were outta there. Then I got a call. It was a girl named B in my photography class. She said,

B: So, I was just calling to see when you are dropping off your portfolio project.
K: (heart attack) What portfolio project?

Within 15 minutes I ran inside, threw on a shirt, called six friends to serve as 'models', scanned the room for anything...anything that would serve as a 'theme' in the photography project and my eyes zoned in on this funky old corner couch I had sitting in my room. I borrowed a friend's car. I threw the corner couch in the back of the car. I called the six friends and told them to meet me in various locations where I shot them sitting on this couch. 1 at Taco Bell. 1 at a dumpy run down motel. 1 at an Arby's, etc. In the end I managed to capture a number of pretty good shots for the rushed job I must say. I stayed up all night in the darkroom and walked out just as the sun was coming up.

When I went to present my pieces that morning, I got good reviews from most the panel except the one prof that had had it out for me from the very start. He asked to 'see me' after my presentation. When I went into his office he began to ask me a lot of questions. How did I come up with this idea? How many takes of each shot did I have to do before I was pleased? How did I like working in the dark room?

He went on and on. I felt like I was under interrogation - a hot lightbulb hanging over my head. I started to sweat. I remember feeling guilty. Not guilty for being a dumbass that waited to the last minute to do everything but rather guilty for having to defend myself to this man. He was hinting around that I might not have even taken these photos in the first place. I started to sweat more than I should have but to make it worse I started to button up my cardigan because I noticed my tank top underneath was a little too revealing. Great. Guilty and slutty. By the end of the conversation my cardigan was buttoned to the top of my throat. I looked like Mary Poppins. He gave me a C.

There was a great lesson learned here so take note. Next time...unbutton the cardigan while talking to the male professor. Your C might just be a B.

THE TIME IS RIGHT FOR...OHIO!

Miss Teen Ohio 2005

Last night I tuned into some trash TV watching - The Miss Teen USA pageant. It was great. E seemed pretty excited too. Figures.

There are quite a number of comical elements about the whole thing. The ridiculous outfits they choose for 'evening gown', the jerky movements and crunched up nose faces they make to look cute for the the camera, the things they say, the panel of judges they flash to now and again which this time included Mrs. Hilton (mom to Paris and Nicky) who clapped her hands awkwardly like a dolphin.

Another distracting element was the script writing. The writers use these weird phrases to introduce the various teens. Here are some examples:

Coming into town...California!
This is it...Kansas!
Jump if you want...Georgia!
Say it like ya mean it...Nevada!
Pass the toll...Michigan!
Pop it up...New Mexico!

Pop it up? What? What are we talking about here?

E was bummed that his pick for Miss Teen Missouri (slut) didn't even make it to the top ten. This is her - painted on eyebrows and all:
I mean really people. There is no contest between her and the winner. After all Miss Teen Missouri's favorite food is 'Jack Links Peppered Beef Jerkey'. Need I say more???

Miss Teen Ohio 2005 won. I liked her although I must confess I originally was voting for Miss Teen Michigan. But Miss Teen Ohio had such an energy about her. A real 'stage presence'. I sound like my grandmother. I also liked that her favorite song is 'Eye of The Tiger' and her favorite food is 'Aunt Connie's chicken salad'. That seemed wholesome and nice.

This is what she won:
-1 year modeling contract
-Custom-designed wardrobe
-4 days in Mexico
-a scholarship to college
-one-time appearance on a soap opera

And what appeared to be the only huge bummer in the whole deal...'during her reign she will share a Manhattan apartment with Miss USA and Miss Universe'.

I mean give the girl a break people. New York living is hard enough much less having to share your small Manhattan apartment with Miss USA and Miss Universe. I mean, think of the closet space for one. The limited number of outlets for hairdryers and straightening irons. And some days in general you just don't need the pressure to be the 'best that you can be' among your roommates. You just want to look like shit, throw on your sweat pants, not wash your hair and stuff yourself with chips and well...watch the Miss Teen Universe pageant.

HOW WAS YOUR TRIP

My Friday night:

-Took 3:55PM train from Penn Station on Long Island Railroad to parents house in order to make wedding dinner in our honor for all relatives that can’t make upcoming wedding in a few weeks. Told E to ‘take his time’ while I met him out there taking an earlier train. Simple right? No.

-no AC on the 3hr train

-Standing room only - wedged between 3 strollers (empty), Long Island teenage girl breaking up with boyfriend on cell phone, 2 sweaty cops and around me multiple children age zero that have their own seats

-Someone spills giant Starbucks Iced Latte on floor. This thing has undertow. Sticky coffee splashes around feet

-Next, normally 3 hour trip on the LIRR literally stops and starts SEVERAL times and at one point even rolls backwards. Announcement is made that due to ‘branches fallen on the track’ after a storm our normally 3 hr trip will now take 4 hours and 45 minutes

-Followed by flurry of calls from irritating cell phone abusers on train:
ANNIE? IT'S JOE. YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHERE I AM.
ANNIE? HI. IT’S ME. THERE ARE BRANCHES ON THE TRACK.
ANNIE? YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE IT. IT’S JOE. TRAIN WAS MOVING BACKWARDS. OK BYE
ANNIE? IT’S JOE AGAIN. ORDER ME A SALAD.
HELLO? HI ANNIE. YES I FORGOT. MAKE SURE YOU GET CESAR SALAD DRESSING. NO BREAD.
ANNIE? IT APPEARS I AM CLOSE. I SEE A VINEYARD.
ANNIE? JOE HERE. YEAH. STILL NOT THERE YET. CALL YOU WHEN I GET THERE.

-Finally step off the LIRR and search several minutes in pitch black for what mother says is a ‘white Volvo’ – a family friends car that they have left for me with keys under the mat. Turns out after several minutes of searching come to find that it’s actually a blue Volvo not white I am to be looking for in parking lot. Want to scream and die.

-Go to call parents but cell phone is dead

-Speed drive home to parents house to quickly ‘freshen up’ and call parents before attending wedding dinner in my honor that I am now 2 hrs and 10 minutes late for. As driving try to use wipers to get rid of moisture on windshield except wipers are so old and bad that it appears they are squirting liquid butter all over the windshield and I can barely see out front window

-Cart all luggage including gifts for people up the front steps of parents house only to discover front door is locked, Now cart everything around the side of house where I successfully break into back yard fence and trip over garden hose in pitch black nearly killing myself

-Approach back door to house, which appears to be open and hear parents dog barking. But then hear more barking. Louder, fully, deep throated barking only to have parents dog, and smaller mystery dog run out followed by GIANT DEEP THROATED BARKING NEWFOUNDLAND DOG WEIGHING ONE THOUSAND POUNDS -three dogs

-Convinced about to die ‘(I hate dogs) I say ‘good doggie…good dog’ – sit ubu sit – good dog’ and grab nearest jar full of what appears to be dog food and dump it on floor to distract the wild pack of animals, throw bags inside and slam door behind me

-Sweating in thousand-degree heat. Pretty shirt wearing now sweat stained. Run back to car now having to drive 15/20 minutes in butter soaked windshield to restaurant where entire family has been waiting for me for 2hrs and 10 minutes

-On the way swerve dead, decapitated deer that has been just hit (by someone else) in road

-Peel into parking lot of restaurant only to discover remaining parking space will requiring wading through giant muddy puddle. Forced to do this – luckily wearing flip-flops.

At this point, tired, sweat stains under arms, hair frazzled, shaking from barking dog incident, hungry, thirsty and in muddy flip flops arrive into a room full of thirty of my closest relatives only for the first question to be, “How was your trip?”