Holy moly… My blog blew up yesterday with all the support I got from Addison. Thanks Addison! Even though I’ve lived in six cities since I’ve left you, I still think of you as my base. I wouldn’t be the strange, funny person I am if I hadn’t spent my childhood buying bodysuits at Venture, listening to Z95 at the Addison Pool or aspiring to one day buy beers at the Pink Pony. It’s because of you, Addison, I am who I am. So, Thank you.
And thank you, John’s Pizza, for being a go-to buffet spot. And for hiding the toppings underneath the cheese. You made eating pizza an adventure.
Thank you, Indian Trail Junior High, for calling me out on my padded bras. You were giving me hints, IT. I should have listened. I really should have.
Thank you, Michael Lane. For making me feel like a real city girl. Even though I lived far from you, I still felt bad ass for knowing where you were.
And thanks to the Insane Deuces for having the rule that girl members must sleep with all male members in order to get in. If you hadn’t made that a requirement, I might have been lead gangster bitch right now and still wearing Cross Colors.
Thanks to that lady in St. Joe’s church who slapped me at Bible study. You gave me an excuse to never ever go back again (except at Christmas, of course– but that’s just to say hi to everyone I haven’t seen in the past year).
Thanks to all the Patels, Priti especially. You guys gave me a taste of what another religion must be like and you sparked my interest in India. It’s now one of my favorite countries.
Thanks, Portillo’s, for selling me gravy bread for cheap after school. Too bad I thought bread dipped in cow juice was vegetarian.
Thanks to the Greeks. For making me feel welcome. I needed to be a Salapoulos for a while.
Thanks to Nick Pope for mooching money off me every single day at lunch. I honestly think it was because of you I said, “I never want to have to ask anyone for money.” And I haven’t had to.
Thank you, Pantry One parking lot, for making me feel real cool whenever I got to hang out in you.
Thank you, bass. For giving me so much excitement. Whenever I heard you, I knew someone was coming over and I’d race to the window.
Thanks to everyone who came to my parties. Man, my house was pretty full sometimes. And even though I didn’t know everyone who showed up, I still felt like I had a lot of friends.
Thanks to the girls who fought at my parties. That was just funny.
Thanks to all the guys who did drugs at Zero Gravity. At the time I thought being on a date with a boy who passed out in the bathroom was kind of annoying. But it made me want to not be that guy, so I said ‘no’ in college.
Thanks to my mom for letting me do whatever I wanted. Even if it meant hanging out with Guidos on motorcycles. Oh wait, I didn’t tell her about those.
Thanks, Mrs. Gunderson, for being the hippest Jewel cashier ever. You never really fit in, and it made me not want to fit in.
Thanks to my friends for letting me film this.
And thank you, Harlem Jamz. Your purple cassette changed my life.
Thanks to my Italian friends for having such good family parties. Italian beefs and those big bags of bread… I always aspired to have such a party.
Thank you, Zayre. You were a great store. I was sad when you left. Even though I got a Cabbage Patch doll for cheap at your going out of business sale.
Thanks, Marcus Cinema, for popping up just as I got to high school. What did we do before you?
Thanks, Discovery, for providing the cheapest nastiest clothes that I still find myself buying (and actually wearing right now as I write this!).
Thank you, Addison. For just being you. When I’m away from you, I feel very far away. But when I’m at Antipasto, I feel like I’ve never left.
{ 12 comments }
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