And I remember what I did a few short hours ago. Did I? I guess I did. Okay, I guess if I forgot about wandering around my high school and talking with the drama teacher then bygod, I should not be driving. Too late now, however, home is close - closer than I am aware. Perhaps right here - right here no matter where I am - a few scratches away at my insides and I am there. Somewhere between recalled scents, yelling matches, and yeah I went to high school there.
I went over to Mary's at twoish, talked to Ty for awhile, looked at his Abercrombie catalog, disgusted that I used to love Bruce Weber photos, thinking about how racist they are, but hey a naked boy is a naked boy - and I still looked through the entire thing. I should of torn it into shreds, tossing it from their balcony like New Year's confetti, celebrating the new, dancing among the ruins of the old, declaring to myself [and thus, to the world] that I [and we] would no longer put up with such bullshit - that we wanted non-coiffed, non-white, non-skinny boys with acne eroticized for us to jack off to, resolving to create the Perfect World that I am capable of living in. But, I didn't - Ty probably would have been upset - real upset. And soon we left Ty and his naked boy pictures to go see Spider-Man, but not before we made a quick stop at Giant to snag some booze to drink during the movie.
We got there and the place was packed to the brims, we got seats in the second row, which at first I thought would be totatlly uncomfortable, but ended up being perfect for this movie, making it seem all the more fantastic - like a fucking Imax movie - a rollercoaster ride, riding along with Spider Man as he swung from here to there, taking all of us second row people right there with him because we were that damn special. The movie was so much fun, I really did love it. William Defoe is wonderfully scary in a Chrisopher Walken way. Radio Raheem is in the movie, working at the newspaper. And the person formally know to me in my WWF loving youth, the Macho Man Randy Savage, my favorite wrestler, is in the movie. I have not seen him probably since those old-school WWF days, thinking that he is too old to wrestle now, but whoa no - he looks scary as hell in this movie. He is about eight times bigger than he ever was. Can we say steriods? If you know what he looked like then, you will also think he looks scary as hell in this movie, I wasn't even positive it was him until I saw the credits. Scary. But, so many of those old school WWF guys are still wrestling. Okay, I've been watching wrestling again, I admit it - but it's sooo good. Mr. Perfect still wrestles. Hulk Hogan. Ric Flair. Big Boss Man. I keep seeing one from the old days just about every time I watch it. Anyways, the movie was so wonderful. It was such a good superhero movie because Peter Parker is a geek in high school and so it's so easy to sympathize with him, rather than say rich Bruce Wayne. When he kicks some high school ass, you will [if you were also socially inept during those years] find yourself rooting for Parker to kick some bully ass. Good stuff.
After the movie, we talked to Rick Dugan from West Potomac and he asked us if we were going to go see the school play. We said something like, "Hell no." But once in the car, Mary suggested that we drive to West Potomac and see what it looks like these days. We circle the school from the saftey of my car, and then we circle the drama building and see tiny tiny people [these are high school kids?] wandering around in costume, getting ready for rehearsal. Oh, it was so wonderfully familiar, how easily those memories of being a drama geek come back. Mary really wanted to get out and go say hi to Ms. McCormally. I was adamantly opposed to this idea, to saying hi to the silly drama teacher that I really had no desire to ever see again, and I thought that this trip was already far surpassing the limitations that I had silently set for myself. But being drunk off my ass, I was pretty easily convinced and soon we were sneaking down empty halls of Springbreak, hiding from drama kids. And then I suggested that we go into the Kogelman theatre [the tiny, intimate one], and it was pitch black, and I stood onstage with Mary thinking of laughing and making fun of people with Ashley Young and Stephanie Phillips and it was right here and so close. And Brendan Bradley and Jesse Robinson and Robin and so many others - they were all up there with me as I all too eagerly fell into recalling high school memories. Mary started exploring the theatre and someone was coming to the doors, so I ran backstage and hid behind the curtains, and fucking shit - it was Ms. McCormally. I could hear her and Mary chatting, I was about to run to my car through the back exit, but then I heard Ms. McCormally tell me to come out and say hi.
I said hi and soon we were being led around on a tour of the renovated arts building by Ms. McCormally and I was too drunk and thought the situation was utterly absurd and kept laughing and laughing, but that is nothing new and not even something I do just when drunk - I tend to laugh all the time. A problem? Maybe. I was pondering that question today and thinking about going on a laughing fast for a week, but have since decided that that was a dumb idea. A Grade A dumb one.
We then left Springbreak, and I suggested that we go into the Quander building. We found an open door, and felt the silence, felt the emptiness, and knew that we would definitly get yelled at if someone saw us in here, so we quietly snuck around the school, marvelling and also being sort of sad at how different it all looked since the renovation. It was not where we went to high school. There was no brown-green carpet. It was fucking tiled. I swear to God, those tile manufactors are intent on tiling the whole goddamn world - B-Dorm used to have gross carpet and it, too, is now gone. Old carpet is wonderful. Who cares about allergens? Fuck tile. Fuck it. The library wasn't even where it used to be - we never even found where it is now. We wandered in and out of classrooms, hoping to find Ms. Reynolds or Mr. Howard's class to write them a cryptic note on their blackboard, but we could not find their classrooms. After spending far too long investigating each classroom, looking through teachers' papers, we were spotted by some janitors and hightailed it out of the building back to my car.
We drove away from West Potomac, but not really, we talked about it the whole drive. WePo. We stopped at Giant to snag more booze, went back to Mary's, and drank and ate and danced. And that was that. A damn, good day. Wonderful in its unproductiveness.