a rare photo op

since i spent so much time discussing preparations for the black-eyed peas concert and since i had enough malibu before we even left troy's apartment to agree to a fun-filled photo shoot, i think that my loyal reader has a right to see how the whole thing came together. so here i am, all ready to go to the concert with all the other 13-year-olds.

regression

yesterday i was 13 years old. as reported earlier this week, my upcoming weekend activities require new clothing and yesterday afternoon was the only time that i was not working and stores were open at the same time. so i gathered all of the courage i could muster and i entered the mall. i parked outside of macy's--didn't know that until i entered the nearest door and i was inside macy's--so i began my spree there. first i wandered through the department that appeared to have clothing designed for people my age. there were a lot of ugly shirts and jeans with built-in hips. there was one pair of jeans that i loved but of course they didn't have my size so i moved on in frustration. next i did something i haven't done since i was in 8th grade and swore i would never do again. i saw a denim jacket and LIKED IT. for several years now i have firmly believed that the "jean jacket" as we called them, had no business running around outside of 1988. i also have always held fast that i am not a person who can pull off the denim jacket. but there was one hanging on the sale rack that seemed to have exactly the right proportions, not too busy, not too dull, short but not rib cage short (a fashion faux pas that i think needs more attention than it gets) and the perfect shade of indigo. i tried it on and much to my surprise i loved it. and i knew that i must buy it. so for the first time in almost 20 years, i was going to own a jean jacket.
since all the other clothes in that section of the store were boring and ugly, i moved on. i was meandering with hopes of finding a cashier when i happened upon a vast array of the most adorable and attractive jeans/tops/black pants/shoes/capris i have ever witnessed. the juniors section, i quickly realized. i hate that the only clothes i like and the only ones that really fit me (what with man-hips issue and all) are always the clothes designed to be worn to middle school. i denied my grown-person shame and grabbed everything i liked and headed to the fitting room. the child who was working at the till seemed curious about why someone's mom was taking clothes into the fitting room without a preteen to try them on. i ignored her. as a result of my boldness, another thing happened that i have not done since about age 13--i absolutely had to have a pair of guess jeans. i feel so silly owning guess jeans because they were such a symbol of cool cult-ure in my preteen years. it sounds funny to even say the name out loud. but they were, hands-down, the most adorable jeans i have seen in a very long time. (could be that i have shopped at kohl's for too long and have forgotten the benefits of clothing that is actually assembled accurately and symmetrically.) so there i was-- somebody's mom heading to the till with a jean jacket a pair of guess jeans some clearance flipflops with shiny decorations and a pair of black pants that called themselves "career pants" even though they were in the section of the store dedicated to prepubescent fashionforward little darlings. and this was the best clothing purchase i have made in years. i even went home and tried them all on again. just like my mom made me do when i was 13.

thank you jennifer aniston and courtney cox-arquette for blurring the line between teen fashion and thirty-something threads.

...

i was working last night-- slinging beer and delivering shot glasses full of liquor combinations that could remove unsightly facial hair. it was a good night to serve in a bar, particularly that bar, because it was one of those nights when everyone is very generous/drunk. a better person might feel a little guilty taking so much free-will donation off of the temporarily insane, but i don't know any of these "better people".
i had a table of about 14 people doing shots until last call... it was chaos, it was madness, it was fun. every time i thought they were content for a while i would be beckoned back to get a few more shots of jag or some kind of fruity combination. there were beers and whiskey mixes and drinks with cute names... i was all over the place trying to figure out just what goes where and how many. the last thing i would have had time to do was actually spend time really looking at the people i was serving. so as i was cashing out the fantastic 14, a man standing near me handed me his credit card and then just stared at me. a lot. for a long time. after just one month at the bar, this genuinely doesn't not bother me anymore. probably never would have, but certainly not now. so i am printing receipts and going about my business when the staring man says,
"is your name michelle?" (it is, by the way, for those who don't know me)
"yes."
"shelly {insert accurate last name}?"
"yes. how do you know this?" (at this point there is no recognition of the man)
"from grand forks?"
"yes. who are you?"
i ask this question just as i realize that he has handed me his credit card so i really don't have to ask this question at all. i look down at the card and it bears the name of the boy i met at bible camp 17 years ago, my first little love, the boy who drove miles and miles to see me play basketball in high school whenever i would play within 50 miles of his hometown. we were in love.... you know, like 14-year-olds tend to do. july, 1989. red willow bible camp. we volunteered at the same camp for a few summers and we stayed in touch for a long time, but i lost track of him somewhere near the beginning of college. i have wondered about him regularly. thought about looking him up (small town, wouldn't be hard). i even drove to his town once without planning or notice. it was quite easy to find his parents' house, but he wasn't there. i think the last time i saw him i was 18 or 19. in my recent move, i discovered a large envelope of letters from my adolescence. there are at least 5 or 6 letters from him in there.

it's strange. i don't know what the connection is, but we have always maintained a special fondness for each other. i am definitely less straight than i was when i knew him, so it's not love like lover love. but we just clicked and have continued to care about each other over the years.

the end of our conversation as he was being shuffled out the door at closing time was this:
James: i looked you up once, saw that you were living out in Minnesota.
Me: (offering only an inquisitive look, knowing i have never been formally listed at that address)
James: i managed a collection agency for awhile.

that would be the way to find me wouldn't it...

chatterchatterchatter

i am not exactly sure how this has happened, but i have recently found myself enjoying life in the chat room once again. i haven't done that since i was about 22 and even then it was brief--only until the novelty wore off. the chaotic enormous chat rooms of yahoo and aol, etc. are still not my thing, but i hve discovered a specialized chat room that usually has not more than 20 people in it and it's the same folks cycling through at any given time of day. and they are adults. i love it. i am surprised by this, but i do. i think it could create a problem though. i have found comfort and entertainment in the chatroom at the same time that i have found a very strong and reliable wireless connection that drifts in through my bedroom window. the combination of chatfriends and computer usage in the bedroom and a total lack of self-monitoring for health maintenance should have me delirious and permanently weakened within a few months. you'd think with foresight and self-awareness of this magnitude i might do something to avoid the downfall. doubtful.

black-eyed spree

in 8 days i am going to a black-eyed peas concert. i am very excited about this and i am learning a lot about myself as the concert date draws nearer. i am, as i may have mentioned before, 31 years old. some of the youngsters in my life apparently believe that this automatically excludes me from membership in the hip-hop appreciation club, but that is neither here nor there. soon they will discover that in a lot of ways, 31 doesn't feel all that different from 17. (this is a fantastic accidental segue) as the concert date approaches i find myself in a bit of a preparation panic. i am like a 19 year old about to go to her first dance club after meeting someone at a coffee shop who is on the VIP list for centro-fly. i must find an outfit to wear. i can't possibly just go to a concert in something i already own. why? i have no fucking idea why. it just feels wrong. what kind of outfit, one might be wondering... i have no fucking idea. i don't know what this outfit will look like, what i am looking for or where i will begin to shop for it, but i know that i need one. as i picture it in my head, it will probably be a tad sluttier than my standard attire. but how does one determine the appropriate clothing combination? does one model the attire after the genre and presentation on the stage? should i mimic the clothing selections of one miss fergie-ferg? that would be fun. and out of character, but only a little. (does this mean that last december when i attended the bette midler concert with my then mother-in-law i should have been dressed as a mermaid?) i also decided some time last week that i must get my hair trimmed and do some highlight maintenance before i go. why? i still don't know. it all just matters. so i will be spending a bunch of my new-found tip wealth on some clothes i will rarely wear and a hair job that i desperately need anyway, so that's good. i also recently purchased a 6 month indoor tanning package and have been drawn once again to the racks of fitness attire at my local discount department stores. what does all this mean!?!?

{roll end credits... fade in "You're So Vain"...}

end

flashback

i am sitting in a coffee shop in my home town passing the time until my doc appointment. this coffee shop is among the places that i spent a great deal of my late teen/early adulthood days. i am having a spectacular time listening to everything going on around me and recalling everything that i love/hate about this town. about this region and its culture, more accurately. this is a coffee shop. an espresso bar. but all of the activity resembles a small town diner more than a place that grinds espresso and roasts coffee beans.

a man just came in and was greeted by the barista and the regular already seated in the back. "hi, stan." he immediately began to complain that the carpets look just terrible and it doesn't look like anybody mopped. "that's terrible." then he "bellied up" to the bar where the local newspaper is already disheveled. the conversation between stan and the barista and the other guy has gone on for some time now. they spent at least 10 minutes trying to offer landmark directions to the young barista, trying to explain to her the location of a local golf course. she still has no idea what they are talking about. naturally, the weather was the next topic of conversation. it's cold. there are tornados in south dakota. did you hear the thunderstorm last night? once a storm was mentioned and someone made a reference to thunder, stan moved on immediately to fart jokes. apparently stan has a hard time with soup.

the other fascinating part of life here, and i had kind of forgotten this, is that if you are in a place like this and there are fewer than seven people you are automatically assumed a part of the conversation. at any given point in the discussion any member of the crowd may turn their attention on you and invite your input, fully assuming that you have been listening to everything they are saying and are interested in participating. in my case, of course, because i do things like this, i am listening. not, though, interested in participating. i have forgotten the script. i just want to make observations and take notes.

a third element... strangers feel compelled to acknowledge your presence and engage in at least a brief conversation. this conversation cannot end until at least one person has made at least one reference to the temperature outside or the chance of rain/snow in the forecast. i had this conversation with the young woman in front of me who wanted to share my electrical outlet for her computer.

and there is the ever present university athletic logo. it is actually not possible to open your eyes in public in this town without seeing the logo. "go sioux!" i hate this town.

i love this town.

now stan is talking about hookers in cuba. i hate this town. cover your tomatoes.