While I admit I don't watch "The Simpsons," and I have no intention of seeing The Simpsons Movie, I was pretty tickled when Katie sent me a Simpsons-ized version of myself. It's frightening but in a funny way.
Even though she's a cartoon, the Simpsons me might be a little more interesting than the teenage me. Or at least I doubt she takes herself as seriously as the teenage me did. For reasons I won't bore you with now, I had occasion on Sunday night to dig out old copies of Polygraph, my high school's literary magazine. I was looking for some genuinely good commentary written by one of my former schoolmates, but in the process I stumbled upon some of my own submissions.
Poetry. Written by a teenage me. Good lord.
Needless to say, I had mercifully forgotten some of the deep and meaning-filled verse I had painstaking composed for Polygraph. But lucky me, I was reminded on Sunday night. For example:
I can hear it in the background:
The faint roar
With the deafening whisper.
Now who could ever forget,
The day the world stood still
And watched success.
It didn't matter what kind.
They held their hands high,
Took a deep breath,
But in their eyes
All you could see
Was never ending
To me it makes no difference
If no one understands.
The words, they made sense to me.
It was something that they said.
All I can say is: bless my little adolescent heart. I wonder if I'll look at the ramblings on this space years from now and feel the same kind of embarrassed amusement. Well, since this is a chronicle of my real life, I certainly hope not. Speaking of real life, it now calls. I'm meeting Rosa at the Hotel Utah in about 45 minutes; so I have to get going. I'm helping her out with a little... um... project involving a certain gentleman tonight.
But ooooh, guess what?!? The Go-Go's are playing at the Independent in October. I am sooooo there.