in loving memory... 

when i was in highschool, i had 3 “best” girlfriends. and we had this plotted out plan of which of us would marry which of these 4 guys we all adored. i would marry brian, meghan would marry colin, the other meghan would marry johnny, and annie would marry aden. except not actually marry him, because they were our “alternative” couple.
fuck, or maybe not. maybe I’m making that part up right now.

in any case. it was this thing we all joked about. and then we had sean, who was our joint pet. but that’s just a weird deviation of it all.

now, we all know that females are bred to be a lot of things, but one item we do hold in particular fascination is fortune telling. little superstitions. little tricks you can do to find out if he likes you(yeah, like the apple stem thing or the flower petal thing or...those little paper things ya write different tidbits on different flaps of and then pick numbers or colors of whatever, or...adding up numbers based on the letters in your names to determine if it was “true love”...oh, who am i kidding, i still totally do that...). astrology, tarot, psychic, palm reading...whatever. it holds that special little giggly magic.

so. i remember one day my sophomore year. a bunch of us had free period together(5th period maybe?). someone had brought tarot cards, and she was doing this reading for me based on numbers in relation to letters, and she TOTALLY drew a 2(B!). and then she had some...uh...static interference or something, and THOUGHT she had come up with an 18. the “kicker” being that she didn’t know what my question had been, so unless she was super keen to my crush/”husband”(which...come on now. this is me we’re talking about. who ever really truly knows who the hell I’m crushing on?). and then she definitely saw some rustic picture of children and the manly husband taking care of the family...

i was like, “hey, cool. 18 is the letter R. that’s the first two letters of my future husband’s name! it’s a sign!” I’m sure i then went to recap the event in detail with the meghans and annie.

and i mean, really, you don’t give more salt to that type of thing than you do de-petaling. or do you? hm. but i love remembering shit like that. or rummaging through one of my journals and reading something that just makes me bust out laughing, because i just can’t believe that was actually part of my life. i was angsty! i mean...i don’t remember being outwardly, actively typically teenage angsty, but you read through these things, and i apparently only ever felt like writing about the tragic things.


fuck. apparently it’s December again.

next time: how the fact that my roommate’s karma apparently uses me as a vessel is complete and total bullshit. :)