Thursday, September 16, 2010


I know, I know.  I'm not even going to make any excuses this time; I just fucked off for a week because I had nothing to say.  Let's just call it a mental health week.  And I still don't have much to say, but I'm forcing myself to blog today because I don't want to get too comfortable with not blogging, because whenever that happens I just stop entirely and have to start all over again when I do feel like it.  HOLY RUN ON SENTENCE.
This one time, in second grade, all the cool girls had sticker albums.  I had a stupid ghetto one with stickers that all came from the dollar store instead of the cooler, more expensive kind that you got near the check out at Canadian Tire.  (You know what I'm talking about, ladies).
Because I had such a shitty little sticker collection, I had to get creative when it came to acquiring some smelly stickers, or fuzzy ones, or bubble ones, or anything that wasn't a GOOD JOB smiley face sticker, which I had in excess.
Why am I talking about my 2nd grade sticker album, you ask?
Well I have been thinking about friendships lately.  I have been thinking about all the ways in which I could be more nurturing to the friends that I have.  So I have had to re-evaluate the ways in which I have been, for lack of a better word, negligent.
So when I had to get creative about getting new stickers I usually stole them when the owner of the sticker book left it unattended or I would beg.
There was this one sticker.  It was a bunch of grapes and it was brand new, it still had tons of smell left in it.  And smelly stickers were the rarest and I love the smell of artificial grapes!  I had to have it.
The owner was a girl named Trisina, who always ate disgusting shit at lunch time to get attention (like putting her entire lunch in a glass of water, stirring it up real good and then drinking it) and she was the first girl that I ever knew who kissed a boy.  She got the sticker from another girl, Monica, who was my best friend at the time.  She was Czech and had always written really stupid looking lower-case R's, I remember like it was yesterday.
In order to get this grape sticker, I begged.  Please, please, please, please, pleeeeeeeeeease?
Trisina said no.
But you have, like, 6 other smelly ones
Trisina said no.
Please?  I'll be your best friend!!!
(I have no idea why in the hell I would offer that up as a reasonable trade.  Even today I find it hard to believe that my friendship is worth more to anyone than a grape scented sticker.  Just kiddin')
Anyway, Trisina laughed and I didn't get the sticker.  So I told the teacher.  She didn't give a shit.  I pouted for the rest of the day.

The next day, after show and tell, Monica and Trisina were sitting next to each other.  Or, rather, Trisina had stolen my spot.  The bitch.  So I confronted Monica and she told me that she and Trisina had decided to be best friends.  WHY!  I never found out why.  And I don't remember if their friendship lasted or if I ever got Monica back on Team Lindsay.  Childhood memories always stop somewhere.  But the important thing is that I learned a valuable lesson that day.  Friendship is not some tangible, unimportant thing that you can trade for stickers.  People value stickers more.  And no one likes being dropped as a best friend.  Especially for the slutty girl who drank liquid ham sandwiches.

I guess what I am trying to say is this:
I love you guys.  And all the grape smelly stickers in the world wouldn't make me forsake you.  Now let's get together and get drunk!

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