Love. Love? Love,

When my attempts at reading in-between the lines of textual conversations involves punctuation.

Honey: -imitating a guy- Crazy bitch…why doesn’t she like me? I’m totally in love with her!
Lyle Harris: There was a period!

The Road Runner

July 2008

Trying to decide on names for a Field Day team.

Lynx: What about “Caucus Blockus”?
Lyle Harris: That would be your name if you were a road runner.

The Rejection of Bernard

Summer 2008

It all started one evening at Diamond Jim’s. Mr. Wiggles and I were having some drinks and nachos. Bernard, an acquaintance to me but we shared mutual friends, came in and chatted with us. Bernard said he’d take me out on a date. I laughed at him. I really did. This happens a lot when guys ask me out and of course they take it the wrong way. However in this case, there was no chance in hell that I would ever date him. I didn’t need his pity or his hopeful sights set on me. When I told everyone else what happened, they also thought it would be strange for me and Bernard to be romantically involved. Mr. Wiggles asked me if I would at least sleep with the guy, to which I vehemently said no, Bernard was too skinny for my tastes and that I would break him.

Fast forward two months as summer was coming to a close. Lyle Harris and I went to Bandito’s to meet up with Maldonado for drinks. I get there and Bernard and his creepy older brother are there. Bernard comes up to me, I see that he’s already drunk and there’s this look in his eyes. Then he touched my arm, almost a caress that’s reserved for people who both like each other or for people who are intimate, and that’s when I looked over to Maldonado and telepathically said “What the fuck is this kid doing?” Bernard saw this and got offended that I would ruin this moment with a glance to Maldonado. I quickly dragged Lyle Harris to another area of the bar where we could talk privately about matters of the heart. Lyle kept receiving texts from Bernard while we were talking, “Where are you guys?” Lyle ignored the texts and we kept talking until Bernard sits down at our table and says, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys. What’s up?” We were no longer able to talk with Bernard there and I became  irritated.

And then the shit hit the fan.

Bernard: So how come we never hang out?
Lynx: Uh I’m busy.
Bernard: You never call me.
Lynx: Last time I checked the phone works both ways. I’ve tried calling you but you never do anything, so I stopped calling.
Bernard: Why won’t you go out with me? Why do you hate me?
Lynx: You really want to know why I won’t hang out with you?
Bernard: It’s because you hate me.
Lynx: I won’t hang out with you because you’re a FUCKING HORNBALL!

There. It was out. No beating around the bush. Bernard completely broke down after hearing that. Just sat at the table while Lyle and I went back to chatting about small stuff. Bernard wouldn’t look at either of us, didn’t say a word. He sat there and he sulked. Maldonado appeared at the table and noticed the sulking, “What’s wrong with this guy?” And then Bernard got up and left in a huff. I then told Maldonado what had transpired. Bernard came back to the table after 10 minutes,  and once again would not say a word to anyone. Lyle, Maldonado and I decided we wanted to leave to get Wendy’s munchies. However Maldonado had to give Bernard a ride home before we could do so.

Lyle rode in my car while Maldonado escorted Bernard’s drunk ass back. Bernard lives 2 houses away from Lyle, so we all came back to the same place. Maldonado came over to me and said, “All he could talk about in the car was how you called him a hornball. He’s pretty upset right now.”

Maldonado, Lyle and I piled into my car. And then for whatever reason, Bernard got into the back seat. No one had invited him. He didn’t say a word, wouldn’t look at at anyone. I looked at Maldonado who was sitting next to me, he had no clue what was happening. It wasn’t enough that I had called him out at Bandito’s? I didn’t want to be a further bitch, so I let Bernard stay in my car. I pretended he wasn’t there. When we got back home, Bernard said to me as he was getting out, “I’m sorry I ruined your night.” I bit my tongue but in my head I thought, “You didn’t ruin my night. You have to matter in order to do that, and you don’t mean anything to me.”

It would be another 6 months before I ever saw or heard from him again.

One reason not to fuck with the Lynx

Lyle Harris: ”I’d rather be attacked by a jackhammer than Lynx. A jackhammer doesn’t go for blood, Lynx does!”

 

Slapbag

June/July 2007

Slapbag is a drinking game I discovered in the summer of 2006, when I went camping in Wisconsin with the brothers Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum and their Wisconsin friends. It’s a very simple concept. You take a swig of Franzia and then slap the bag, trying to make a cracking sound. Those slaps are the best. And then you pass it on to the next person until the bag is dry. Now I know this sounds a little stupid, but once you get going and the alcohol is flowing, this is fun as hell. Seriously. FUN.

I had so much fun that I had to share this with the rest of our friends. Now I thought that I had had fun playing it with Wisconsin folks. Well the friends that the Tweedles and I share, are a very creative bunch and took Slapbag a step further. Whereas the Wisconsin folks just slapped a bag and passed it on, Sloppy Shot, Ricky Rousse, Honey, and Lyle Harris came up with different ways to pass it on and slap the shit out of that Franzia bag. Can you high five the shit out of Franzia? Maybe do an Eiffel Tower? Backhand it? Do a flip and then see if you can whack it? We started off 5 strong, then there was 3, but Sloppy Shot and Ricky Rousse were the brave men who sucked that Franzia bag dry.

I can’t really remember what happened after we had nothing left to drink. At some point we decided to walk Honey home since she literally lives right behind me. I can tell you that I don’t remember me physically walking to her house, I was pretty fucked up. All I remember is that from the short walk from my house to hers, I had to call Langdon. You know, that urge of MUST CALL YOU and ADMIT DRUNKEN THINGS TO YOU.

Langdon and I met in February 2007 when Butch and I went to ISU. I was digging him and then after 2-3 hours of meeting him, I found out from Butch and Slim that he had a girlfriend. So of course I was disappointed. Well they broke up a few months later and he started asking about me, but Leo and I were back together so nothing happened. Langdon couldn’t get me out of his mind, so he asked Butch for my number and made a call. But I never got that call or the voicemail he left me. Apparently Langdon called some girl he thought was me and left a voicemail saying, “I think you’re an awesome girl and I’ve had this big crush on you since we met. Can we hang out sometime?”

Only to realize that he called the wrong person. He was completely horrified, “I just poured my heart and soul out to a complete stranger!”

I’m pretty sure that Butch (with the encouragement of Slim and Tad) purposely gave Langdon the wrong phone number so they could laugh about it. Well I had been thinking about it, and I don’t know how I got his number (I think it was in a voicemail and I couldn’t hear the digits), but I dialed away.

“Hi Langdon, it’s Lynx. How’s it going? You know what, I totally thought you were really cool when I met you. You were cute and funny, and I’m not gonna lie, I totally wanted to make out with you! But then you had a girlfriend so I thought you were a douchebag. Like a really BIG douchebag! Anyway, so maybe you are a douchebag, maybe you aren’t, why don’t we try to be friends? See where it goes? I really just want to be your friend.”

Yeah well guess what. I had dialed the wrong number! Of course I told Butch about it and he thought it was absolutely hilarious.

I was so sick the next morning, instead of driving to my 8 am summer class, I drove over to Sloppy Shot’s because there was no way I was going to be able to sit through 3 hours of American History without passing out or puking. Which I tried to sleep, puked a bit, got dragged out to breakfast by Sloppy Shot and Ricky Rousse, puked some more, got back to Sloppy Shot’s and perhaps puked more and then finally slept it off. All while he was running around helping his mom with computer stuff.

I have pretty much sworn off Franzia since that night. WORST HANGOVER EVER!

The Great Bromance of Boomp and Ricky Rousse

When I embarked on this journey called life, I never thought I would be blessed with the opportunity to see one of the greatest Bro-mances in the world. How I met these guys could probably be two different blog entries in themselves.

Starting with Boomp, a couple summers ago I threw a party at my house while my parents were out of the country. Sloppy Shot invited Boomp and Lyle Harris, maybe Ricky Rousse (all four of them worked at the same Circuit City), but it was Boomp and Lyle Harris who showed up. Now I was completely trashed by the time Boomp and Lyle Harris appeared. As soon as they sit down, as I tend to do when I’m trashed, I proceeded to tell them my life story. Jack (Champaign Cockblock) was my fling that summer so I also bared my heart and soul about him. In short, I was that drunk girl. They probably were sitting there and going “Oh God, what did we sign ourselves up for?”

On another trip to Champaign, G-Spot and Sloppy Shot had people over for an event known as Unofficial St. Patty’s Day. As glorious as this day is, I will have to wait for a later entry to fully explain it.

I have to do a slight tangent here. I’m told that I have three drunk stages. The first stage I’m a happy drunk, and then like shooting star I quickly go into the second stage. The second stage is angry drunk Lynx. I don’t know why this happens, it just comes out. As for the last stage, Lynx likes to isolate herself and goes into a room to be introverted. Back to Ricky Rousse.

On this night in Champaign, Ricky Rousse chose to put himself in the lion’s den. Me and Lyle Harris were talking in Sloppy Shot’s room. I was in transition between the second and third stage when Ricky Rousse came in. Being the good guy that he is, he chose to be friendly and talk to me. I wonder to this day if he ever regretted opening his mouth haha. Somehow he rubbed me the wrong way and Lyle could see this wasn’t going to end well, so he quickly exited the room so Ricky Rousse would learn his lesson. I don’t remember verbatim what was said, I just remember I was trying to bite his head off because I thought he was trying to come onto me.

No camera could ever capture the great Bro-mance of Boomp and Ricky Rousse. You have to see it with your own eyes. This bro-mance, part bro, part -mance, part joke (but very real), is an entity in itself. Maybe it’s like a Brangelina thing. It’s bigger than the two people involved. One day as we were drinking $3 Long Islands at Houlihans, Buttersauce, Boomp’s lovely and awesome girlfriend, not being able to put up with the bro-mance had an outburst, “It’s not funny anymore! Boomp is my boyfriend!” Aka “Hands off Ricky Rousse!”

A recent conversation

Lynx: im trying to compile a list of pros and cons for this weekend. name all the positions you’ll be fucking boomp in
Ricky Rousse: HAHA
Ricky Rousse: doggy mostly.. although i may try to pull off a stairway to heaven.. and then finish it off with me and Jonathan Goldman giving him the DP
Lynx: lol
Lynx: i dunno. a stairway to heaven is so tame
RickyRousse: haha

Everyone deserves to see the magic of a bro-mance. I’m just really lucky that it’s Boomp and Ricky Rousse.