Dianetics.

A few weeks ago, my good friend Brian came over to hang out. We had pho, saw The Adjustment Bureau (don’t worry, we only paid $2.00) and, like most of our outings, ended our adventure with a trip to Yogurtland.

(By the way, they have Cinnamon Toast Crunch as a topping now. Awesome. )

It was a warm night, so we sat outside on the patio. We had just begun to dig into our frozen treats (did I mention Cinnamon Toast Crunch?), when we heard a random voice say in too friendly a voice: “Heeeey, Yogurtland!”

We both looked up to see a middle aged man with his hands folded behind his back, wearing a button down and slacks, and the look of someone awkwardly trying to inject themselves into your conversation. Brian and I quickly glanced at each other, wondering what this guy wanted. He sounded like P. Allen Smith, and if you know who P. Allen Smith is you’d know that he talks in a creepy child-molester way, like someone who probably has people buried in his garden and drives around in a van filled with candy and puppies. This guy even looked like an older version of P. Allen Smith, too. I briefly wondered if we were going to get raped.

“Hi, I’m P. Allen Smith, and I’m gonna murder you and eat your face”

Random White Guy: “Hey guys, I wanted to invite you to come see a movie with us. “

Me: (in my head) we are so gonna get raped.

RWG: “We’re going to be playing out movie here nearby, it’s totally free, you can even bring your ice cream if you want.”

(I’d like to take this moment to point out we were not having ice cream, we were having Yogurtland. With Cinnamon Toast Crunch.)

Random White Guy then put two tickets on the table. Right away I noticed the headline.

I don't hurt the people I love, I just trip them.

There was a young woman with him too, around our age, enthusiastically nodding and encouraging us to come, because it’s a Friday night, and all the hip young kids go to the movies on Friday night!

My mouth full of cake batter yogurt (with CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH!! Did I mention this?), I automatically racked my brain for the best comeback.

• "I used to be an athiest until I realized I was God."
• "Nothing personal but God told me to set you on fire."
• "BURP."
• "Na na na na na na na na LEADER!"
• "I'm Catholic! HISS! Away, evil one!"
• Speak in tongues.

The last one would have been somewhat feasible if I knew how.

Being much quicker (and much more mature) than I, Brian quickly threw out an excuse.

“Oh, we can’t. She has to work tomorrow. Really early.”

Girl: “Oh, no! Where do you work?”

Me: “Sturbucsh. I haff tah be derr at 4 am.” (I’m talking with my mouth full because I’m such a classy dame.)

Girl: “Oh wow, that’s REALLY early! Well, if you guys change your minds, we’re just down the street, hopefully we’ll see you there?”

Brian: “Uh, yeah! Sure.”

Creepy McCreeperton and his sidekick, Mary Kay Letourneau's cousin, walked off in search of more schmucks to ambush and have awkward conversations with.

Brian: “Uh, did that really just happen?”

Me: “Yes. Can we go? Please oh please? Come on, it would be HILARIOUS!”

I tend not to think things through completely. It’s how I live.

Brian: (laughing nervously in that way he does when I suggest something stupid) “Uh, no.”

Me: “Fine. Guess not. They’ll probably stick an E-meter in my butt and sell my soul to Xenu.”

Oh, I’m sorry? Did I say soul? I meant Thetan.

Tom cruise would be so pissed.

I have friends! Yay! I feel slightly less loser-rific!

Standing on the verge of some great truth
Where I’m finally in my place
But I’m fumbling still for truth
And it’s cluttering my space
Casting shadows on my face.

I live my life by music. My car is full of CDs and the radio is always on. I can’t work out or run unless I have my IPod, and I have 10 years of choir under my belt. These past two years, I slowly put together a playlist of songs that resonated with pretty much every emotion I felt. It was usually what I listened to when I’d lie on the couch in a ball and cry, stare blankly at the ceiling, or (and I confess this with difficulty), lie in bed at night and contemplate the possibility of not waking up, and thinking it wouldn’t be so bad. (*NOTE* Don't freak out on me people. No one needs to be talking me off of a ledge anytime soon. While I did wish to just go to sleep and never wake up, it never crossed my mind to take a proactive approach to it. Calm yo ass down.)

And though I have the strength to move a hill
I can hardly leave my room
So I’ll sit perfectly still
And I’ll listen for a tune
While my mind is on the moon

One in particular is a song I heard in an indie flick, Away We Go, with Maya Rudolph and John Krazynski. Pretty much as soon as we left the theater, my sister and I went and got the soundtrack (translation: she bought it on ITunes, and I subsequently stole it in one of my periodical pillages of her laptop. Shut up.). Anyway, the name of the song is called Wait, by Alexi Murdoch. To me, the song asked the all-important question of, when the shit hits the fan, and I just can’t be this awesome person for you, will you still be here for me when I need you? Will you wait for me?

If I stumble, and if I stall
And if I slip now, and if I should fall?
And if I can’t be, all that I could be
Will you, will you wait for me?

I loved this song when I first heard it on the soundtrack. And it struck a chord in me later when I asked someone that very question, and his answer turned out to be no, he would not. For a time he feigned attempts to stay in my corner, but truthfully he was slowly backing out of my life until he finally turned tail and ran. And that’s regrettable. Devastating at the time, but I have grown so cold and distant to that particular chapter in my life that I can’t help but feel only distant anger mixed in with pity.

‘Cause everywhere I seem to be
I am only passing through
I dream these days about the sea
I always wake up feeling blue
Wishing I could dream of you.

At the same time, there are others who I asked the same question, and their answer was (and I get the feeling it always will be) that they would. If I have learned anything these last two years, it’s that you truly do find out who your friends are when you are at your lowest moments. The ones who force you to go to the gym and sweat out your misery (Buckner), the ones who surround you with new faces and new possibilities (Therese), the ones who go out and get ice cream or cheap steak with you at midnight (Rick-Nachooooo!), the ones who will drive through LA 5:00 traffic just so you can see the bench from 500 Days of Summer (Brian), the ones who will listen to you on the phone when you call with hysterical tears (my fabulous Nino!), the ones who invite you over for dinner and let you cry on the couch (Anne, Vanessa and Lucy). Even those who, if they didn’t live in Oregon, would show up at your door, slap you in the face and tell you to quit being such a whiny pendeja and shut up already (do I really need to name names with this one?). Anyfuckingway, before this gets all Oscar-Acceptance speech-ish (it already kinda is. Should I be wearing a dress instead of a Transformers T-shirt and jeans I've had since high school?), All of the party people I just named are full of The Awesome. There is a special place in my rotten, dessicated little heart for all of them, and as soon as I win me the lottery, I will buy them all some hookers and booze.

So if I stumble, and if I fall
And if I slip now, and lose it all?
And if I can’t be, all that I could be
Will you, will you wait for me?

(Ed Note: Don't ask me what brought this on all of a sudden. It's a temporary moment of insanity where I show emotions for some reason so just take it as is.)