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Category Archives: Teenage years
You know how at camp you make your FRIENDS FOR LIFE <3 <3 <3? Those girls who you will claim will serve as bridesmaids at your wedding, who will be there for the birth of your first child, who will say the eulogy at your funeral?
And then you turn 16 and are too old for camp, and suddenly your friends for life are friends no longer?
Yeah, it makes me a little sad too.
The one exception for me was Sherry. Sherry was my bunkmate at Bucks Rock Camp for the Arts. This was the type of place where eight year olds put on goggles and stuck their hands into open flames and pulled out pieces of freshly blown glass and all their parents did was clap and sign them up for four more weeks. This was a place that had a Clown House, and THATS WHERE THE COOL KIDS HUNG OUT.
Sherry and I lost touch in the years after we left Bucks Rock. However, fate+ the fact Sherry and I don’t age = running into each other at the Hungarian Pastry Shop and immediately falling back into patterns of hugging and love. And by hugging and love, I mean complaining about our teaching schedules, and weighing the dangers of rekindling flames with ex-boyfriends.
A few days ago Sherry sent me the following excerpt from her recently discovered Bucks Rock yearbook. And what we can learn from this is: the more things change, the more they remain the same. Also, if you say “I will have a boyfriend” three times every day, eventually you will get one. Scouts honor.
Also, being pregnant isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as long as the father is a really hot guy.
Says the 13 year old girl who has never been kissed.
Sometimes when you’re a teenager an older man makes you feel special and beautiful! And you should pretty much guess there that this guy is going to try to molest you at some point in the near future.
This story was recently told to me near a running film of Charlie Chaplin (who the more you drink you shout out the genius of at higher levels) a falafel that just fell the eff apart the minute a bite was taken, by 2 of the funniest ladies I know. And so we begin…
Since I clearly have masochistic issues, I reach out to this guy who dumped me years ago. Back when we dated, I was really into him despite the fact he was really sarcastic. For the sake of anonymity let’s call him Sarcasmo. In reconnecting with Sarcasmo, it becomes evident, I still have feelings for him. At the time, I need a computer person to help with some comedy videos–so I ask if he can do editing work for me. He agrees. Despite any tingly feelings down there, the moment money exchanged hands, I vow never to get with him . I have a strict policy of no sexing the staff. That would make me feel like I’m subversively paying for sex- it’s too much like prostitution. I don’t want to be a prostitute or pay for one. And so, all fantasies of hooking up with Sarcasmo are over. He starts editing for me, and thus grows our sexually charged, awkwardly platonic work relationship.
Years later Sarcasmo and I remain friends, go to the theater, shoot videos and our relationship is as awkward and uncomfortable as ever. I just end a relationship with a hot, emotionless Israeli. Let’s call him IDF man. Sarcasmo and I decide to make a sketch about the breakup with IDF man. The scene starts with IDF man in bed, post-coitus and his girlfriend asks him to define their relationship.
In order to get into the heads of the characters, Sarcasmo plays the role of IDF man and I play the girlfriend. In order to really set up the scene, we go to my apt and get into bed together. As a dedicated method actress, I put myself in Sarcasmo’s arms and assume the spoon position, (which happens to be my favorite). We begin to improv, but it all becomes confusing. Are we speaking in character or as our true selves? In a moment of truth, I share my feelings to Sarcasmo. I tell him that “I feel like I have to pay for you to hang out with me” and how I don’t want him to be my prostitute or vice-versa. He tries to reassure me, but he’s so sarcastic I can’t tell if he is being sincere or not. Again, just like when he dumped me years ago, I’m hurt.
This becomes our psychologically abusive writing system: I say, “I want to take this to the next level” and he says “so let’s have sex without a condom”. My writer self knows the line has comedic potential and writes it down, but the part of me that likes him is insulted. I retort, “I only have sex without a condom for boyfriends” and I angrily pull away and write the line down. Sarcasmo/IDF feels bad and for a moment shows a glimmer of sincerity. That’s all I need to see, and I put my legs between his thighs. Now am I in character or not? The cycle continues until many lines are written, shirts are off and hands slide under bra. By the time we finish the sketch, pants are removed, boobs have fully surfaced and there are no longer any characters to hide behind- it’s just Michelle and Kelvin…er, I mean Sarcasmo.
Kelvin is clearly trying to have sex with me, but my feelings of hurt and rejection from years past still sting. Ironically over the course of writing/hooking up, I let him caress me wherever he pleases (boobs), but I don’t let him kiss me. Like a true prostitute, kissing would make the sexual encounter too intimate. Had he said something sweet like “you are hot” or “I like you” all would be fine. But he says no such thing. Kelvin senses that I am feeling insecure, pulls me into him, holds me tightly, and whispers in my ear “Hey…you…you’re no prostitute”. Sarcastic or not, that was all I needed to hear and we started kissing.
We plan to meet in a month to revisit the script and if we both deem it funny we will shoot it. The role of the IDF Man has been recast and will be performed by another actor.
Talk about a fucked up method of writing and of dating!
Bio: Comedienne, Producer, Social Architect. Check out michelleslonim.net for info on upcoming social events and performances. Save the date Monday 7/23 for an Open Bar / Open House party Michelle is throwing with Jspace. Tickets are $30 are subject to availability .http://www.jspace.com/
Gchat? Or Prose Poem?
me: i just broke up with this guy i was dating who i thought was great
me: but turned out to be an asshole
hes a repeat offender
i dated him a few years
Elizabeth: oh yeah
i remember him
me: not screenwriter
I cant remember who the screen writer was
this guy used to say mean shit to me in bed
Elizabeth: yeah, i remember him sort of
last time i came to visit
he was the one who you met up with to eat Thai
and then something crazy happened
i’m forgetting the story
that guy told me about his gun
Elizabeth: wait, he is the one who criticized you for not shaving?
Elizabeth: okay, I finally got to the right place in history
me: holy shit this is cracking me up
I am putting this up on BDGS
damn you just summed up every asshole i ever dated
i forgot to mention back door john