Thursday, September 17, 2009

A Girl Can Dream






My taste in guys has always been a bit on the terrifying side. It all started when I was a baby. My parents gave me a book on museum art to learn about color and shapes. You know, to enrich me. Well this may not have been their initial purpose, but I fell madly in love with the boys in this painting.

I loved these people.

Did I mention that the last page of the book was partially eaten? Yeah, I was already weird at book chewing age. Well a relative of mine gave my mom some dishes. My mom put them in a box to save them for when I was older. When she told me about this I grabbed a writing utensil and got to work. I drew myself and Pugsley from the Addams Family on the box. I guess I envisioned our future marriage, and getting the dishes out to serve severed hands to my Mother-in-Law Morticia.



I was romantically interested in him.

Then came a string of historically significant boyfriends. First I liked Christopher Columbus. Only because he was really cute on my Carmen Sandiego computer game. Then I liked Johannes Gutenberg, of the printing press fame. Then one night in Kindergatrten I woke my parents up because I had to talk about Cosmonaut Cutie, Yuri Gargarin. The next day when my mom was dropping me off at school she approached the teacher.
"Lulu might be a little tired today, she was up late last night talking all about Yuri Gargarin."
"Would she like to talk to the class about him?" my teacher asked.
This is actually the best response I could have hoped for. I am so glad I went to a Montessori.



I liked somebody who had two beards.

I'm glad to report that the tradition of weirder crushes continues. I've mostly moved on to political pundits. Around 94% of MSNBC's on air talent is referred to as my boyfriend. Peanut wasn't spared the weird either. On a recent trip to Washington D.C. we took a tour of the capital building. My brother only spoke up twice. Once to ask if Nancy Peolosi was in the building. The second time to ask where her office was and if we could go in.




Not that I'm in any position to judge, but really?

I guess while my peers are doodling "Mrs. Zac Effron" on their notebooks, I'm just watching C-SPAN and sighing.




Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I Am a Secret Agent.



This is me







THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT ME

So in my family our everyday Juno-eque speech has become a sort of secret code. I became in on it as a toddler.

We call these "Butt Rolls"

As time passed our weird dictionary grew. You know how they say Eskimos have 20 words for snow? We're like that, but with butt jokes. We've also branched out to include topical references. "Limbaugh" is used to desccribe a certain symptom of food born illness. The only one who never really got the secret part of our secret language is Peanut. He only just found out the entire world doesn't say butt rolls. This being something he learned the hard way. Recently he's started to warm up to that fact the other people are normal. Unfortunately this also means that he thinks nobody understands his code words. He's started to say "Lidiot" as a disguise of the word "Idiot." It's pronounced exactly like the word idiot but with an "L",  clever!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Best. Homework. Ever.

I am currently enrolled in a sketch program. My teacher gave the class this assingment: Try and listen to people saying bizarre or hilarious things that would make a good line in a scene. My immediate thought was that people were far too boring to say hilarious things. Boy was I wrong. Walking out of class I heard a snippet of someone's phone conversation, "...and then there were all these guys in kilts." The funny part was that she said it so nonchalantly. Like how a normal person would say, "...and then it was cloudy." Eavsdropping this made me feel like Harriet the Spy.

 I decided to pay more attention walking through the halls of my school. I heard some weird stuff. One of the better sentences being, "Moles... Why is this?" It's not just things people say too. I've begun to notice a variety of weird things in the written world as well. For example, in my french text book, somebody went to the back in the vocab section and underlined only "Yogurt" and "Poultry." In English class today we had to come up with words we associate with the middle ages. My teacher then passed them back out and had us read them. The person's I was reading wrote "Death, plague, and music books" as their last three things. Now, maybe I haven't gotten to that part of the middle ages yet in my reading, but are those things really that connected?
=

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Joseph McCarthy is why I stay in school

I was ten. Like any decent ten-year-old I didn't really feel like going to school much. So after setting the groundwork the night before, "I don't feel so well", and after maybe an hour of dignified begging, "It's not like I'll miss anything important! I already know how to spell!", my mother gave in and let me stay home. See she was on to me by then. Up until age eight I was a pro. I could fake any symptom known to man. 

Then Peanut started to see what I was doing. Mom got suspicious when we both had "this stomach thing" especially because he was way worse of an actor than me. In 4th grade we both tried to stay home the same day. I was nine and he was five. My mom said, "Ok, but you have to stay in bed all day." My response was, "Oh you're good." Peanut stuck it out another hour before giving in. Well anyway, by the time I was ten she knew my game. She said I could stay home. She even suggested we go see a movie. Now, I like to think of myself as sophisticated but I don't think I understood the deep depression that comes with the alienation of being blacklisted. There was a lot of talking and it was in black and white. This may sound severe but the loss of my brain's ability to process fun was around that time. I was raised on documentaries about oil spills and I consider the history channel special Life After People a bit like a lullaby. Unlike other people, I've seen more of Michael Moore than Jennifer Aniston. 
      
not

Still though, every time I think about skipping school all I see is a dark room with people talking about McCarthyism. Which, even for me, is a bit much to handle.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Becoming familiar with the underwear of your peers


High School is one of the few places where you debate healthcare reform with someone and then have to be half-naked around them 40 minutes later. Maybe if Congress adopted this rule they'd feel too uncomfortable to argue. There's that moment of realization in math class, "Oh yuck. I know what color underpants she's wearing." Of course not everyone feels deeply awkward. I guess some of my more upper-body confident classmates consider it an ideal time to have conversations.
"Hey Lulu, do you understand the science homework?"
"Yes. I do. Can we talk about it when you're clothed?"
Then of course there is the swimming unit. You know how there are stories about people who get a sudden burst of strength and lift school buses from on top of children? Well I think that my friends and I do a similar thing in that we can put on a swim suit and take off regular clothes without ever removing either. It's a feat of incredible proportion. The smell of artificial coconut still makes me nervous, because everybody used "Gurrrl Currrl: Coconut Shampoo." Showering was the worst. I'm sure they got the shower room idea out of a building plan for a Viking torture chamber. The real problem I had with the layout was the visible drain. Apparently either people leave dead dark haired hamsters in the locker room or people really need to use shower caps. 

Rather then ask my mom for shower shoes, I requested shower boots.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

So many different ways to not enjoy kale!

  

My blogging abilities might be hindered today, due to the fact that I have not just eaten baked kale but also had it in juice form. Imagine a person who doesn't brush their teeth eating the hair from the floor of Supercuts and then burping it into your mouth.


equals 


My family recently acquired a juicer. Already it has been put to great evils. Apparently my mom thinks it's a fun plan to juice vegetables. Well nice try, buddy! I was tipped off by the fact that the juice was bright green. As my brother, Peanut, and I gagged over the sink it was admitted to us that ginger and orange were, for some reason, also included. It was very exotic. As a reply to her confession Peanut screamed, "IT HAS CHUNKS!" It was a highly acute observation. My own personal worry is that the kale has taken up permanent residence in my throat. It feels like I tried to swallow a nest. I'm going to go now, I have a few packs of mint gum to chew.

Friday, September 4, 2009

The History of a Surname

       Let's set the stage... About 20-25 kids hanging around a field. I'm with some friends saying witty things, the rest of my class is picking at themselves/giggling. Then horror strikes. My gym teacher, Mr. Football, has arrived. "Ok, champs! Let's pick teams!" Oh no. So four of my more athletic peers stand up to be captain presidents, or whatever. The Darwinism ensues. A couple of uncomfortable minutes later I'm standing with a few of my less esteemed colleagues. It's me, a girl who we're all pretty sure only speaks Korean, and someone who is best known for her eerie resemblance to Luna Lovegood. We weren't even joke picked. Mr. Football sorts us onto teams. When I start to walk to my new pals I hear an audible sigh. It's probably not an Oh boy! It's Lulu! YAY! sort of sigh. I actually took it to mean quite the opposite.
      About half-way through a game of football that would have made Mike Ditka weep, something dawns on me. Except for a few people, everyone here is considered a better football player than me. Here are some player stats:
Mr. Liza Minnelli: Signature move- catching the ball and then dropping it. Quote- "My hands are dirty now!"
Miss. Alarmingly-Good-At-Football: Signature move- making me look like a polio victim. Quote- "Lulu! Head in the GAME!"
Mr. Santa's physique: Signature move- Being stout. Quote- "heavily breathing"
Miss. Hilton: Signature move- Having a negative number for Body Mass Index. Quote- "OhhhhhmigawdyoucannotexpectmetoplaythisiamliiikesoobadatsportsstuffLOLLuluireeeaaaallylikeyourhairLOL!"
       Towards the end of class I switched teams. Nobody noticed. Other than that there wasn't a lot else that happened. But from then until forever I am, Lulu Pictlast.
And thank you for reading my blog.

Thursday, September 3, 2009


Welcome To My Blog!
Can you figure out which one is me?