Little rooftop voices

21 09 2010

For some reason this popped into my mind while walking home from the gym.  When I lived in Tennessee, my dad and I would do this thing.  We would go to Wal-Mart, be-grudgingly.  Before they built the Kroger, it was the closet place around that sold organic milk.  Now the Wal-Mart clientele north of Memphis are a special breed of people.  One way of putting up with having to go to Wal-Mart was to play this game.  I don’t know who came up with it, me or him.  But when we would walk past someone in the parking lot, one of us would speak out of the side of our mouth, barely moving our lips [kinda in the same fashion as when one makes a trumpet sound with their mouth], and in a high-pitched, but quiet voice would say “Help, helllllp.  I’m up here.  Look, up here.  I’m stuck on the roof.  Help me!  Hellllllp meeeeee!”

The key was to have the vocalist avoid all eye contact, stare at the ground if possible, and have the other member watch for people’s reactions.  And every so often, we would get someone who would stop their shopping cart, crane their neck, and squint towards the distant roof of the Wal-Mart warehouse.  Maybe, just maybe, there was someone up there who really freakin’ wanted to get down.



22 01 2009

Brace yourselves folks.  This blog is going to be a reflection on meeting Shawna exactly one month ago.  Exactly one month ago we’d be passed out in the back seat of the Ford Taurus, while Mom’s drives back from McGill to Toronto.  Actually, we might be eating Subway sandwiches at this point in time.  Not sure.

I promised myself the moment I got home I would record everything I could possible wring out of my brain because the entire time we lived.  There was no documenting.  And I like documenting.  Because I forget everything.  So let’s see what I remember.  I think I’m going to try to run through the days in my head and then end with a giant paragraph of as many words as I can conjure up that relate to the epic adventure.

Friday, December 19 – I’m out for school early.  Mom and I finally get our butts out of the house and on the road at 10.  The drive is long.  Massive clouds of fog.  Then horrible roads the farther north we go.  Spinning out before the bridge.  Waiting an hour for a tow truck.  Mom REALLY having to use the bathroom.  Nice cops.  Friendly people.  Windshield wiper fluid FREEZING & driving blindly.  I drive across the Canadian border.  Vast, bleak, beautiful dark roads.  One line emails about turning onto streets.  Making it to Shawna’s.  I see this little figure hovering in the doorway of a house.  We waved frantically at each other.  Next thing I know she is outside and I’m out that car door and we grab each bouncing up and down and squealing like the uncontrollable fan girls we are.  I open my Christmas presents, some that ne’r be mentioned.  We ate chocolate.  I met Canadian smarties.  We never went to sleep.  We snuck out at 5 in the morning to go to Timmy’s to get Iced Capps.  Heated seats in Furlong!  Geeze, I remember much more than I thought.  This blog is going to be frakishly long.  I’m tempted to just skip to the word paragraph of doom that I’m sure no one will read but Shawna.

Staring at each other.  KStews.  Doggies.  Grandmothers with my name.  Degreasing bangs and playing in the Polysporin bathroom.  To Montreal.  Pictures.  Freezing.  Kumquat soda.  Hilton.  Michel, the rude concierge.  Le Caveau.  Port in chocolate cups.  Shawna dropping said cup & port on white table cloth.  Mall.  Pictures with Levi.  Old Montreal.  Pizza?  Epic snowing.  Native American gift shop.  Giant stuffed polar bear.  Shawna taking the fur hat someone was about to buy.  Confusing doors.  Arguments over gloves.  Taxi cabs.  

Twilight.  Giant Iced Capp and putin!  My constant side comments throughout the movie.  Ducking into open building from the cold.  Sitting in massage chairs and verbally planning epic Twilight parody video.  Sauna until 2AM?  Inabilities to poop [yes].  Angry, abandoned mothers.  Crying.

Tour McGill.  Leave.  Smartie theatre.  Force feeding Shawna Smarties.  One last time at casa Nana.  Skor cake.  Sister & friend.  Turkey dinner. Gilmore girls. Skype with t00thbrush?  Certain snoopage.  Failing asleep.  Waking.  Leaving.  Turning around an hour out because I left Polly.  Crying.  Wailing mustang.

There’s got to be more.  Hundreds of things I’m missing.  It really sucks when one of your best friends lives so far away.  REALLY SUCKS.