Sunset on a lollipop
When I was in high school, I had a group of friends that was particularly too introspective, a little too moody, a little too eccentric for everyday kids, etc. Hell, my bedroom was painted dark purple and I hid in it all day long on the weekends, playing Depeche Mode's "Judas" on endless repeat.
So, my friends would come over, and my dad had this '79 Chevy wagon - it smelled like dirt, dust, and dog hair. I absolutely hated it - refused to ride in it, requested rides in the Camry only - but in 1996, it all changed.
We'd pile in the wagon and just sit in the driveway, chatting it up. My dad would occasionally come outside to see what his weirdo daughter was doing with her 2 mormon boy-friends, 1 southern baptist, and 1 best friend. One of the guys moved away in the middle of his junior year - when he came back to visit, we all got in the wagon again.
Schmeeds has a wagon, and I think we've ended up talking about everything in it - life, death, music, fashion. It's so interesting how we all have recurring motifs in our little lives, especially when you foolishly disregard them as meaningless.
2005-01-08 | 8:48 p.m.
