For one reason or another, I sometimes miss out on things. I often feel like my life is one big game of catch up. This can sometimes be a problem, and often keeps me from doing things.
Admission #1: I have not gotten around to getting into Radiohead because I do not want to be That Girl who suddenly discovers Radiohead like a million years after everyone else. So at this point, I’m just The Girl Who’s Not All That Into Radiohead. But no one knows my true identity of Girl Who Would Totally Be Into Radiohead Had She Started Getting Into Them Like 13 Years Ago Like Everyone Else And Now Can’t Because It’s Too Much Work, After All This Is The Girl Who Just Finally Got Around To Checking Out Wilco.
You may be confused. Allow me to explain further.
At a certain point, it is almost too late to get into a band, or a show, or any number of things. Because rarely is there ever the time or the energy to put forth that effort that comes with experiencing every album, or episode or what have you. As much as I love music, and television, and THINGS IN GENERAL, I’m kinda busy. Do you know the kind of life that comes with being an Internet columnist? Shit man. I’m BUSY. (Busy, as seen here, is short for “too busy re-watching all of Doctor Who like 60 trillion more times” or “quite busy secretly listening to the Backstreet Boys several times a day for ours is a forbidden love.”)
That doesn’t mean that at some point I won’t find a way to work through all of a certain band’s albums. But it will take a long time, that is for certain.
Now, sometimes things I miss out on are events, or trends, or other big deal things that people will talk about for a long time after. With that, the top five things I’ve missed/am missing out on that no one will shut the fuck up about:
5. The Wire
There are two kinds of people in this world: people who watch The Wire, and people who have been meaning to watch The Wire for years but keep getting distracted by shiny things and snacks. And the latter? There’s about two billion of them. And I am one of them.
4. My high school reunion
My five year high school reunion was two weekends ago. I did not attend. I was “on a deadline.” Now while this was actually really very true (three deadlines actually), I had to put it in quotations because in all honesty, I totally would have said it either way.
The fact of the matter is, I have fairly decent memories of high school. It’s where I met two of my best friends in the world (here’s where I’d say a sappy “Hi Erin and Kenzie!” but the bitches don’t read my column. Shun.) as well as my boyfriend (yes, I’m still with my high school sweetheart. My name is Cliché Von Steretypekins.) who is actually the one that suggested this week’s column, so without him it would probably have been yet another 1000 words dedicated to how badass MST3K was. But while I had a pretty okay high school experience, it isn’t something I’d really like to repeat.
A fair chunk of my graduating class all stayed super BFF forevskies, and see each other all the time. For a lot of them, this was pretty much another Saturday night. And good for them. But for me, it would have been a night of A) being asked nothing but “are you and John still together? WOW!” all night, B) trying to prevent drama (to be said DRAHHMAAAH! while throwing yourself to the ground, obviously) between my friend and a douchey boy (and believe me, this is a story I totally want to tell but can’t because my friend would be pretty pissed at me. But it was drama. DRAHHMAAH!), and C) trying to explain whatever the hell it is I do on here, which is difficult to do eight beers in, let me tell you.
3. The Illinois State Fair
This saddens me to no end. Backstory: I am originally from Springfield, Illinois. A city entirely filled with sites devoted to Abraham Lincoln, the most phallic looking hotel maybe ever and completely surrounded by fields, farms and towns that have not been updated since 1963, Springfield is my home and I love is to bits. The fair is one reason why.
Every year, I have my rituals. I hit up the shake-up stand and get a lemon-orange shake-up. This is always delicious. Then I get a corndog. Preferably a really big one. This is always delicious. THEN I head to a small stand with a sign reading “Fried What!” (which I always read “fried WHAAAAT! * raise the roof, bitches *) and get a fried fucking Snickers bar. Oh it is good. It is a full on mouthgasm. You guys. For serious. It’s so good.
Literally moments after typing the above, I Googled “Fried What!” for a picture, and holy buckets Charlie, they have a website:
I’ll take seven bags of the Batter for Sweet Treats. Frying in my apartment kitchen What! * raise the roof *
* ahem * Anyway, the fair is part of being a Springfieldian. It’s what always signified the end of summer, it was like a yellow light before the red light of going back to school came on. This is the first year I haven’t gone. I’m a snarky bitch, but that’s pretty bittersweet and makes me homesick. I really need to make a mean joke about Paris Hilton to get my groove back now. Um … Paris Hilton has herpes. HA! Back.
I’m missing out on a second place. ZING.
Aaannd that kind of witty banter is why I’m getting the big bucks (* shakes head no *)
1. The Olympics
Thank Christ for Michael Phelps. Without him, I wouldn’t be able to respond at all when people approach me.
Typical day at my office:
Co-Worker: So are you watching the Olympics?
Me: Omigah, Michael Phelps, amirite?
[we high five]
[repeats 12 more times until I leave for the day]
It’s not that I don’t care. I do care. I really want to watch the Olympics! I just got … ya know … busy. And that’s true of all this stuff. But for one reason or another, whether it be laziness, busy-ness, location, whatever, I just haven’t gotten around to it. So enjoy them for me. I’ll be off somewhere being “busy.” And this time by busy, I mean deep frying fucking Snickers bars. * raises roof *
Courtney Enlow is a writer living in Chicago and working as a corporate shill to pay the bills. You can contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.