Hopscotch

Today I had an overwhelming urge that has become quite familiar to me since the beginning of my college career: I wanted to hopscotch. I wanted to hopscotch really badly. Right there, walking through campus, my legs felt the itch for the hop-jump one-two-legged dance of my childhood. I tried it. But it’s really not the same without the chalk outline and with a bunch of people milling around thinking you are a lunatic.

           

Maybe it was the cobblestones. They kind of look like hopscotch squares. Or maybe it’s the fact that my entire being is unwilling to let go of my childhood. I don’t see why things have to stop being fun just because we get older. Sure, we grow out of things, tastes change, but every once and a while if you get the urge to hopscotch or hula hoop or pretend the floor is lava, why shouldn’t you?

            

There are many things about me that haven’t changed since I was a child that probably should. I still play with my food. After I eat at a restaurant I still feel the urge to lay down in the booth (maybe I do sometimes…don’t stare! As if you never get sleepy after eating a lot!) If my roommates drag me to the grocery store when I don’t want to go I will stomp and whine and drag my feet while exclaiming “you aren’t my real mom!”

           

Is any of this acceptable behavior? Probably not. In fact if I remember right it wasn’t acceptable when I was younger either. Like hiding in clothing racks, pulling off price tags or stealing those stiff little plastic things they put in the collar of men’s shirts while at the store. But still I did them, with the unparalleled excuse that I was young and expected to learn better behavior.

            

I don’t really think that we would all be better off acting like children all the time. It would be ridiculous. And even I know that sometimes I possibly push the boundaries of appropriateness for someone my age. But does it really hurt anyone if while I’m walking down the street, just for a second, I jump a little? It’s not the same without those chalk lines. Trying to act childish won’t bring back my childhood.

           

So what’s the big discovery? What’s the life-changing epiphany? I don’t quite know. But I know I’m going to hop if I feel like it. 

Like Rob Lowe, if he was older and had a greasy ponytail

So the other night I was watching Megashark vs. Giant Octopus (you are jealous) with my friends. And then I was suddenly shocked, and not just by the amazing special effects and flawless acting. No, I was shocked to find that one of those talented actors was in fact Debbie Gibson!

“That’s totally that 80’s pop idol girl. I swear. What is she doing in this movie?!”

Collective response: “What the hell are you talking about?”

“No, seriously, I don’t remember her name but that’s her. I think she used to perform in malls or something. 

Google it! Do it now!”

As anyone who is a fan of SciFi original movies or is an avid follower of Ms. Gibson’s career know, I was of course right. Except maybe about the mall thing. That may have been Tiffany.

But that is not the point of this story, and neither is the fact that this movie taught me that if sharks are big enough they can jump high enough to eat airplanes. (I don’t know what airplanes ever did to Megashark, but whatever it was made him seriously pissed).

No, the point is that I was born in 1992. I only lived eight years of my life outside of this annoying 2000s era which there is really no good name for. So how was I possibly alive in the 80s?

Perhaps another example is necessary. Later during that same movie a character came on screen and I remarked that he looked like a really messed up Rob Lowe.

The response I got was dead silence.

“Guys? Rob Lowe? I mean, if Rob Lowe were older and had a greasy ponytail. Don’t you think?”

Then I realized that none of my friends knew who Rob Lowe was. HOW WAS THIS EVEN POSSIBLE?  I came to the strange realization that I couldn’t remember a single thing that Rob Lowe had acted in. How did I know who he was anyway? Where did this knowledge come from? Doesn’t everyone just know? Finally I remembered.

“The Outsiders! Rob Lowe was in the Outsiders! Anyone? Oh geez, how am I even friends with you people?”

I had always thought I lived in a certain kind of world. A world where everyone knew copious amounts of random 80s information. But on this night my perfect little world view was shattered. There was no longer any logical reason as to why I alone held this knowledge. The only explanation is that I was born in the 90s but lived through the 80s.

I know it is a lonely path ahead of me. It will be tough. I will probably be alienated by people my age. Few of my references will be understood. But I can live this way.

As an Outsider.

…No one? Really? It’s such a good movie! Gah!!!

Just one of those days

You know the kind of day when you read blogs for hours and then finally decide you have to do dishes because you thought it would be fun to drink pop out of your water bottle, which it was but now your water bottle is all sticky on the inside and besides that cereal bowl has been on your desk for two days which is probably not sanitary?

So you walk to the lounge and the creepy guy who lives two doors away from you is in there and even though he doesn't talk to you or anything you hate that he is even around and then you feel bad because he really isn't doing anything, and it makes you contemplate your overly-judgemental nature for a second.

 But anyway it feels awkward somehow so you try to wash your dishes quickly but while you are standing there a muscle in your thigh starts twitching annoyingly and all you can focus on besides that is the inane conversation the girls behind you are having about cheerleading while for some reason standing on chairs.

And you finally finish washing everything and then you become strangely aware that the back of your shirt says "tackle the virgins" and you start thinking about how to explain that to someone else, except you can't remember what book you were studying when your teacher said that and by the time you sort of decide it was probably Farewell to Arms (even though that still doesn't seem quite right) you realize that no one around here cares or is likely to inquire about the back of your shirt.

So you walk back to your room and of course the really short girl in your hall who wears way too much eye liner who you see EVERYWHERE (like seriously a freakish amount) is there and smiles and says hi to you, which is off-putting only because you literally see her up to ten times a day and she has NEVER acknowledged you before.

So you say "hey" back, although it comes out weird and croaky because you have been silently reading blogs all day and not using your voice, and besides your throat is dry because earlier you drank all your water and then drank sprite, which made your water bottle all sticky and prevented you from getting any more water until you washed your dishes. But it makes it seem like you are really shy or didn't want to say hi to super-short-stalker-racoon girl so then you just feel like an idiot.  

And when you finally get back to your room you remember that both of your roommates are at study sessions because they, unlike you, are actually being productive today. So there is no one to tell your (actually rather uninteresting) story to and you can't watch Doctor Who to pass the time because your sister hasn't paid the Netflix bill, which you really shouldn't complain about because you've been using it extensively for free for months but you will complain about anyway because you feel like it.

Yeah, I'm having one of those days.