Stuff That Happened to Me(enz).
Meow.

“So….who was the one who organized this so everyone would meet up for lunch?” he asks loudly as we all meet up by the escalator that goes down to the cafeteria, and he examines our group of interns.

“That would be me,” I answer.   We shake hands firmly, and as soon as we introduce ourselves to each other, I know this kid is going to be intriguing.

We immediately connect over our mutual love of planning things.  He tells me how he loves putting together events, get-togethers, everything.  He says, “I want to plan a bunch of intern trips and outings, maybe to go whitewater rafting, things like that.”  Me too, I nod, and I tell him about AB, about my ideas for outings, and all that.  He says we should work together to plan epic activities.  I agree, and I’m surprised because I wasn’t expecting to meet someone who also wanted to put together intern getaways.  He adds: ”If I plan a trip, it has to be planned down to the last detail.  Everything has to go smoothly, and the outings have to be unique.  Memorable.”  Cool, since I’m sort of crazy about those things, too.

He tells me about his love of travel, his trip to Australia.  I tell him about Brazil.  He tells me about Germany.  I tell him about Sweden.  This goes back and forth in a game of conversational where-have-you-been ping-pong, and I feel like we are both simultaneously good friends and competitors already.

The next day, we’re talking about vegetarians, and he throws in a “ba-dum-chhhh” pun: “Hey, I like them because at least I’ll never have a beef with any of them!”  I laugh and then sort of hold my breath for a second because quite frankly, it’s scary how that was the same sort of terrible pun I would make.  

Later that day, he works with me via Office Messenger (….like IM for work) to put together an invite for a welcome dinner at a nearby restaurant.  We debate over the best way to send this out, what with 70-something interns and the potential for inbox chaos.  He includes my name as one of the organizers, but I can tell he got a rush from being the one to put together the mass email.  I know I would.

At dinner the following day, 30+ interns show up, and we all occupy a good portion of the restaurant.  He’s organized everything flawlessly—making reservations way early in the day, ensuring the waiters and waitresses know the occasion, working out timing so the restaurant won’t give up our seats.  It is impressive.  As we sat down and looked at our menus, he said, “You know what would be fun?  If we made this like a speed dating thing, where each person talks to someone and then switches so they can meet another intern after 10 minutes or so.”  Brilliant.  It’s the perfect plan.

Then, he tells me that later in the week, he has to find a way to get to violin practice that night at some place called Potomac, MD, at a place called Churchill High School.

Yeah, I know.  Too weird.

Of ALL places to have violin practice.

I offer to drive him to Churchill since I have to deal with 495 traffic anyway, and he gladly accepts and is excited for the ride to my alma matter.  On our ride there, I ask him the basics.  Favorite music, favorite color, all that.  He answers:

“My favorite color is turquoise.”  Uh, cool.  Me too.

“Coldplay’s my favorite band, even though some people think they’re too mainstream.”  Coincidence-they’re my favorite, too.

I ask him if he’s a Death Cab for Cutie fan as well, as they are another one of my favorites.

“Yeah.  I love them.  Especially the song ‘I Will Possess Your Heart.’  But the extended version, not the radio version.”  That song is one of my favorites, and I am very much in love with the extended version.

Shit, I think.  This is strange.

Same favorite books.

Favorite Writers.

Habit of using of hashtags as Facebook statuses.

I think, this is getting really weird.  Like Freaky Friday weird.  

I can’t help but thinking this kid is one of the most interesting, eerily-similar individuals I have ever met in my life, and I can already tell we will have a very unique friendship, one in which he will challenge me and irritate me at times and still become one of my closest confidantes.  The song is fitting to his personality; in fact, I can almost hear him responding to this post with the lyrics:

“You gotta spend some time, Love.
You gotta spend some time with me.
And I know that you’ll find, love.
I will possess your heart….”

verb,

I forgot (no, I didn’t) when there’s a vacation or break, you drop off the face of the planet. Disappear.  Poof.  

I hate it.  I hate it so much, it makes me want to punch a pillow.  I know you have your home life.  I know you have friends to reconnect with, a job to attend to, siblings and pets to play with.  But so do I!!  Minus the pets, unless you count stuffed animals and my pet rock.  I would understand if we were traveling.  But I am here.  You are there.  Life is going on.  I know you care.

Please, remind me that you give a fuck.

Today was Day 1 of the internship, and it far exceeded my expectations.  My team is wonderful and the other interns seem like they will be lots of fun.  I loved the energy and the sounds of high-heels click click clicking on the ground.  I am so excited to observe and take notes about my day-to-day happenings and the cast of characters that is my office.  It’s only 8 pm and I am exhausted.  I would consider going to bed now, but the sun is still out, and I think 8 pm is only bedtime for sloths and little people. 

I will write more.

in usual end-of-the-year-I’m-not-in-high-school-and-can’t-wear-my-prom-dress-again-wahhhh fashion, and thinking how I really wouldn’t mind going back.

“Welcome!” says the pretty waitress whose name I should know by now.  ”Will it be the usual for you two, one large hot black milk tea and one cold?”

Mira looks at the colorful sign behind the cash register and inquires about the new menu addition.

“What is the grass jelly milk?” she asks.

“It’s our brand new addition.  It’s like, grass jelly made Chinese brown sugar with milk….You would love it!”

“I’ll take that.  Why not?” Mira affirms as she smiles and hands the waitress her menu.

The waitress turns to me.  ”And what about you!?  It’s the end of the semester, time to try something new!” 

There is a pause as I look at the colorful sign.  I feel a surprising, instantaneous pang of panic.   Grass jelly milk.  Sounds interesting, but the last thing I want is something new and different.  No, I don’t want any of that.

“I’ll get my usual,” I respond, as I quickly hand her my menu and gaze down at the table.

We held those glittery, rainbow-colored balloons outside of your window and let go of them together; held hands as we watched them soar up, up, and up, over the trees, past the road, beyond the golf course, and far away into the brilliant blue sky.