Get Outta My Dreams…

Remember my friend Matty?

Well…looks like the US Air Guitar Championship finally has a winner. (Not my dear Matty, I’m afraid…) So, godspeed, William Ocean.

Fun fact? One of my housemates in England was from Oulu, Finland, which is apparently the home of the Air Guitar World Championships. Oh, how she loved The Rock (and classically unhandsome men)…It was such a fun household – certainly the best living arrangement of my college career…and post-college career as well, come to think of it (until I got my own place…).

This, of course, is with the glaring exception of the time Rob (“Raaab“) and I were fighting in the kitchen and he slapped my face with raw bacon…and the time he accused me of stealing his orange juice and started leaving post-it notes for me in the refrigerator like, “This is mine, Lisa. Love, Rob.” (No, I swear I’m not one of those roommates.) I still have those notes in a scrapbook from my Sussex days…and don’t even get me started on Roland of the ultimate frisbee team who used to leave me signs in his window. Well, okay…maybe I will…briefly: my best American friend in England was extraordinarily homesick and spent much of the first few weeks on the phone with her boyfriend before leaving the program completely that December. She wasn’t a beer drinker and so one night during her I-miss-LA period, she invested in a bottle of tequila. I don’t intend for this to be a forum for my youthful exploits…so, long story short, I really think it’s testimony to how much fun we were because we were hanging out in front of her house…and before we knew it, it turned into a bona fide block party. We all lived in these three story houses. I happened to be on the ground floor of my building. And I met a guy named Roland who lived on the top floor of the building right across from me. So, in my slightly-chattier-than-usual state, I excitedly exclaimed, “Omigosh! We could put signs in our windows and talk to each other!” And…guess what? The next morning, I opened my curtains and there was a sign in his window that said, “Hello, Lisa.” That’s in my scrapbook, too.

(I’m totally going to OD on nostalgia someday…)


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