On Teen Pregnancy

In the cafeteria of Georgetown High School, at the tender age of 16, I once noticed a friend not eating lunch. When I asked her why she wasn't eating she told me, "I think I might be pregnant, and am trying to kill the baby."

Teenagers are stupid, and shouldn't have kids.

Me at Seventeen, Josh Aiello and the Mating Dance of the Indie Rocker

Once upon a time I was a seventeen-year-old perusing Barnes & Noble, when I stumbled upon Josh Aiello's A Field Guide to the Urban Hipster. This book treats hipsters as wild animals to be observed, dividing them into families and then species, and makes comical observances of their plumage, habitat, etc. It was absolutely hysterical at the time.

Today, I picked up the book again and read a few passages. While it's become quite dated, I still found this section on the mating habits of indie rockers funny enough to share:

"Indie Rockers are sexually clumsy creatures. Their mating dance is an intricate yet ineffectual cocktail of lapsed intimacy, misread gestures, arcane trivia, and hero worship. It has been suggested that the species' heightened yet misguided intelligence often proves prohibitive to animalistic urges.

As a rule, Indie Rockers do not date. They fall in love, then break up through an often intense process normally set to particularly pretty and melodic music [e.g., Belle and Sebastian, Galaxie 500, Damon & Naomi, etc.]. These hipsters engage in a perpetual cycle of exciting new prospective relationships and awful, devastating breakups."

a mutual reason to pull versus a one-sided dying wish

Sometimes, when things end badly, we let the good parts of a relationship slip through the cracks. We let bitterness negate the things that should be remembered; the parts that mattered most. I'm just as guilty of it, if not more so, than anyone reading this now. Keeping that in mind, I'm going to muster up a few choice moments the predated various heartbreaks.

• the three-page love letter
• picnics by the turtle pond
• all of those snow cones
• dancing in El Paso
• seeing a lightning storm from a cliff face
• watching Hamlette howl and eat at the same time
• the night we decided to wear matching outfits
• 8 hour phone calls
• camping in Big Bend
• driving to North Carolina on about 8 hour's notice
• freckles vs. moles
• foosball

I could go on, but it wouldn't make sense to anyone reading. Letting hurt feelings taint your memories is the worst thing you can do for yourself.

UGH

Tonight, I ran into an ex of mine.
Tonight, my ex was with some gross dude, who said, "If you haven't hit it already, you totally should."
Tonight, I lost my faith in humanity.

Blind Item

Which Denton pseudohipster has a thing for sheer, black pantyhose and emailing naked photos of himself? Imagine the gossip if those got out!

[I'm not going to get more descriptive than that, but I suggest you don't cross me again.]

San Marcos: El Dorado of Tail

San Marcos is one of my favorite towns in Texas. The place is stocked with cute twenty-somethings, who bike ride and wear those precious little cut-offs I love so much. It's also located about forty minutes away. This happens to be the perfect amount of space to hit it and quit it drama-free, but you could make the trek out to seriously hang with someone you actually like. Of course, I've always preferred the former rather than latter.