Sunday, June 11, 2006


I recently got contacted by a friend of mine who I was close with in the 10th grade. Just out of the blue. I pick up the phone, and my own personal blast from the past (totally different than my own personal Jesus) is on the other end. Semi-interesting on its own, maybe. But what's even more interesting than that is the fact that this happens to me ALL the time. All the time, seriously. Probably once a year, I will pick up the phone, and some random high school person is on the other end. Each time it happens, I tell my two childhood pals, Alli and Map, and each time they say something along the lines of: "what IS it with you?"

What is it with me, indeed. It's not like I was particularly popular in high school, so it's not like people are calling me because I was so damn influential that they need to reconnect with me to show me how great they are doing now or see how great I am doing or what have you. Alli is convinced it's because my parents have had the same phone number my whole life, and it's kind of memorable (like 867-5309 or 588-2300 or 555-NUTS or something like that) so when people think about me my old number is right there, burned on their brain. And my parents remember all of my old friends, so of course my mom is handing out my current number to any ex-buddy that calls her up.

It's odd to me that people would track me down like this, especially since I live so far away from where I grew up. But they do. And the results are mixed bag. When my ex (Luscious J) called, I was happy to hear from him and I now still keep in touch with him. But when Shari called a few years ago to fill me in on her fertility troubles when I hadn't seen her since she sat next to me in 7th grade choir, well, that was weird. Lady, I don't know you any more and all that sperm-count/discharge-check stuff is crossing my boundary right now.

So this time it was Gigi. She was my best friend in 9th and 10th grade, and she was awesome. Truly, a kindred spirit. I still have all the notes that she wrote to me, and they are still funny, witty, silly. In 11th grade, she started dating this guy and the friendship fell apart. She never wanted to hang out with her girlfriends any more and she became this serious, grown-up-not-in-a-good-way person. Looking back, I'm sure I didn't handle it well either. I seem to recall nicknaming her new boyfriend "foothead" behind his back. Not the best attitude, I'm sure.

So when she called me, we chatted about our lives, and then I brought up some of the old jokes that we used to have. Like, we used to have this character that we drew on everything. We drew it on walls, we drew it on our locker, we drew it when we signed our names on notes to each other. It was, like, our logo. His name was Mr. Renobber Gonad Brain. He wore a look of shocked surprise, and he was bubble-headed and skinny. Now, this will tell you guys where I am at in terms of emotional age, but I still think Mr. Brain is funny. What does it even MEAN? I don't know, and I co-created the guy. It's just silly, and comes out of a very unselfconscious 9th grade place. Well guess what? Gigi didn't think it was funny any more. She even acted like it was kind of...lewd. Well of COURSE it's kind of lewd. Renobber Gonad Brain. We were in 9th grade. Saying Renob or Gonad was enough to make us laugh. It still can make me laugh.

I don't know, ya'll. If you're calling me up in honor of some pubescent friendship that we had going, you gotta honor the pubescent-ness of it all, don't you? The part of me that you thought was so memorable had to be largely puerile. There's a big part of me that's still in 9th grade. What part? Ask Mr. Gonad. (Come on! Kind of funny? Ok maybe not).

Ok Mom. I think it's time to stop giving out my number.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl


Melinda said...

Heh. You said "gonad".

Anonymous said...

Well, I can tell you that I will never ever tire of that kind of humor. I hope you will introduce me to Mr. Renobber Gonad Brain in the near future. I'd be much obliged.

Katie Kiekhaefer said...

I wish you could go to our grad school too! (It could be one of those continuing education thing that all librarians are supposed to do!)

And if we did go to school together, we could totally trade best friend's boyfriend horror stories. My favorite was when my best friend ditched me for this skeezy guy and then when they broke up, he asked me to prom. Yeah that wasn't awkward... or creepy.

Librarian Girl said...

Doesn't everyone know that you don't ditch your friends for some dude? It's like, the epitome of stupid.

Anonymous said...

Followed you over from Crazy Aunt P. Love your Blog. Stalk you soon!

Anonymous said...

OK. I haven't heard the word "Renob" in faaaaaaaaaar too long! I f-ing love that word and I had completely forgotten about it. I am cracking up over here. That one is sooooooo back in the line-up now. Reminds me of J.E.P.V.

Librarian Girl said...

See, Al, this is why we are still friends. You get how funny "renob" is.

MAP said...

renob. gonad. six or nine.

my favorite story is the kid in the grocery store who said "it's me! G-man!" or the chick in the clothing store who recognized your mom and started talking to her while you were in the dressing room looking for an air duct to escape into.

Librarian Girl said...

G-man. Hahahahaha! That WAS a good one.