4.26.98

today, in special truman capote style!

i called home this morning to arrange some things with my mom. she's so funny.

mom: do you know this band called smashmouth?
me: yes, the singer is kinda pudgy, right?
mom: yes! i was going to say that he's no spring chicken.
me: (laughing) yeah, i guess. you see them on television? that song that goes, "don't be late, act now, supplies are limited!" or something?
mom: yes, i saw them on the dish (direct tv) but they weren't singing that song. something about "don't join street gangs and sunshine."
me: (giggling like mad) okay, mom? i'm writing all this down.
mom: oh, you stinker! oh yeah, what is this 'fusegit' stuff?
me: fusegit?
mom: yes, fusegit, fuzzgit, i don't know what it is. fidget?
me: fugazi?
mom: yes, that sounds right. fyoogazi.
me: no, mom, FOOgazi. FOO.
mom: fugazi. fugazi. sounds like a pasta shape.
me: yes, they're very good (mom interrupts)
mom: oh, you know, i hope they're not moshers, because i was watching this thing on the dish and in new york some kid was KILLED! you know, some people go to these concerts just to hurt people! they put elbows in peoples' eyes, and they- (annie interrupts)
me: no, mom, fugazi won't play if people are doing that stuff.
mom: oh, that's nice! i like the few-gazi guys. oh, did i tell you? now, maybe you know about this. okay, remember how there was punk and then it came back?
me: yep.
mom: well, there is this group of kids into "gothic" and oh honey, oh! they just look scary! they drink blood and are pale and they stick pins into their cheeks!
me: yeah, well, mom, don't worry, most goths don't drink blood. only a few do that.
mom: oh, good. maybe something will happen to them and they'll be wiped off the face of the earth.

isn't my mom the cutest? i bet you wish betty were your mom. well, she's not. she's my mom, and MY MOM ALONE. when i was little (so my mom tells me), i waddled out into the garden where my mom was weeding or something. apparently i toddled up to her, pointed my little index finger out, and shook it in her face. i scrunched up my face and said, "NO MORE BABIES! JUST ME! NO MORE!" as my mom tried not to laugh. i wish i remembered things like that.

one more week of being a teenager. i feel as though i'm eighty. i don't think people stay young for as long as they used to. adulthood and its pressures come too soon. and with that, it's time to write a paper.