thatnight.net

Just in time for the Olympics. Oh wait.

August 25, 2008

You need at least two semesters of a language to graduate from my college. So I’m taking Chinese.

I started learning Spanish in eighth grade, and although I continued through my senior year of high school, I doubt I could talk my way out of a plastic Taco Bell bag.

Even after all that time, I still can’t roll my r’s. When my teacher said hamburguesa, prompting me to repeat it, her r would spin perfect cartwheels into the g, and my earnest response would sound something like “hamburLUHLUHguesa.”

The Chinese man teaching this course was so determined to illicit the correct pronunciation of the phonetic alphabet, sounds that my mouth in conjunction with my voice have never made before on purpose, that he would not shy away to avoid the certain embarrassment of a student until they got it right. And after every mistake, he would lean a little bit closer to my desk, drastically contorting his lips back to the correct shape, pointing and gently arcing a piece of white chalk in the air like a conductor.

“Please say, dddjjjzzz.”

“Ssshhhzzz.”

“No, dddjjjzzz.”

“Dddaaacccchhh.”

“DDDJJJZZZ.”

“JJJUUUZZZ!”

Of course, in the car on the way home, it came out perfect. Because no one could hear me.

I haven’t been this intent on studying something since fifth grade geography.

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Better than “Blast from the Past” day in high school

August 24, 2008

It’s nearly 2:00AM on Sunday morning and at this point, nearly everything I find online is going to be both interesting and hysterical, including inspirational poster knockoffs and anything involving the word NOM.

Early tomorrow afternoon, I will return to fretting over the start of school on Monday and my social obligations to take a shower, but right now, I can feel secure in the fact that I can take a photo of myself (right), plug it into this website, and immediately be granted the gift of giddy laughter.

1952, 1966, and 1992, respectively:

If anyone decides to take part in this, I would very much like to see your results, because there’s a good chance I’ll still be half asleep, and it’s only going to get better from here.

Also, that picture to the left is the outcome for the year 2000, and although I haven’t seen my eighth grade yearbook since early high school, I’m pretty sure that is exactly what I looked like.

Categories: Daily | 8 Comments »

Receipts and secrets

August 21, 2008

Over the weekend, my sister and I stopped by my favorite bookstore to waste time and grab a few novels to get us through the week. They had a PostSecret display set up in the back of the store, and as I picked up one of the collections and began to flip through it, the receipt to the left fluttered to the ground.

(For those who don’t know, PostSecret is a popular ongoing art project in which people anonymously mail their secrets on postcards to the creator, Frank Warren, who then scans a selection to the community site every Sunday morning.)

I was lucky enough to see Frank’s keynote at SXSW, and it turned out to be one of my favorite presentations at the festival, even after the atrociously awkward Mark Zuckerberg train wreck.

In any event, seeing this secret, probably unread since the author’s decision to stick it between the pages, was strangely intimate, and since the receipt is only two weeks old, it was as if the girl (I blurred out her name, which appeared in the circle, as I’m not sure that having it posted on the internet was what she was going for) was standing behind me like a Sixth Sense ghost, quietly whispering that, right now, she is experiencing a conflict that others may not know about. Although, in some way, I think a lot of people can relate to what she’s saying.

Categories: Daily | 17 Comments »

How to captivate

August 19, 2008

Use a small knife to cut an apple one-handed.

Surrender to my sister’s obvious annoyance and reciprocate her 14-year-old attitude full force.

Shield the puppy, who just peed on your floor, from my frustrated ramblings.

Share in my October excitement.

Photograph my lacrosse games.

Mention “my girlfriend” as you chatter into your Xbox 360 headset.

Hang the baby picture of you and your older sister on your wall.

Roll your eyes and scratch your head when your mother begins talking about alterations on champagne-colored bridesmaids dresses.

Drink protein drinks in a futile attempt to gain weight.

Offer to drive. Again. (And again.)

Show up to my mother’s 50th birthday party and laugh when you’re hugged from behind by her tequila-affected girlfriends.

Check your email once a month. On AOL.com.

Hide your tattoos from your mother for two years by refusing to swim in their large, luxurious swimming pool and wearing pants even during the most sweltering summer days.

Empty the freezer’s automatic ice machine, in its entirety, into the beer cooler on your back deck.

Do a double take when you overhear me asking the vet on the phone, “Can you give me a rundown of your neutering prices?”

Rarely ask where your camera is.

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Dapper

August 18, 2008

Bello had his first grooming experience over the weekend, and even with less hair flowing into his eyeballs, a full speed run results in his fir becoming pulled so hard away from his face he looks like a flying, bony little pterodactyl. A pterodactyl who has no fear in taking on a large German Shepherd puppy.

Bello in Summer from Rachel on Vimeo.