Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Build a Best Friend: Iconoclastic Girls Part the Second

Part II of my attempts to befriend cool, hip new girls from fiction.



Sweet kid, but I'm still coming down off that week I spent with her. It got to the point where I was taking speed and spending hours rehearsing my material during the Apollo's amateur hour before I could have so much as a simple conversation with her. She'd make a reference to her hamburger phone. I'd top it by spending hours in Virgin Megastore hunting down a Hello Kitty pager. She'd fire off some pseudo witty remark like, "Honest to blog," and I'd spend the whole weekend hunting down an obscure but hilarious George Carlin or Lenny Bruce remark.

Plus, every time we tried to watch Big Bang, she did not appreciate my "Hey, wanna collect a sperm sample?" remarks. (Is it my fault the girl has a habit of getting knocked up by socially awkward man-boys?)

Angela Chase, My So Called Life


We got along okay initially. I turned her on to tunic tops at H&M and she got me into practical but stylish flannel plaid. She was warm for Jordan Catalano's form, and I nodded and was supportive while constantly reminding her of how unsexy illiteracy is. And then as soon as he set his puppy dog eyes on me, my new flannel panties were be on the floor (hey, who could pass up the chance to get with Jared "Angel Face" Leto?). On the plus side, I got to commiserate big time with Rayanne in the girls' bathroom, and that girl's got a killer sense of style.

Dawon's Creek gang


I know, they're beautiful people, but since they're all supposed to be black sheep in Capeside, I figured I'd try hanging with them. It didn't work out so well when I refused to toe the party line.

Strike one. "Little Joey Potter, for an outcast from the wrong side of the tracks, you sport more new merchandise from the Gap and J. Crew in one year than I've owned in my entire life. Maybe my dad should start dealing hashish on the side." Strike two. "Hey guys, my newest Youtube video got twice as many hits as Creek Daze!" Strike three. "Spielberg's great and all, but didn't you guys get a weird Lewis Carroll/R. Kelly/Roman Polanski vibe from E.T.?"

I was on a bus out of Capeside faster than than Katie Holmes could say "L. Ron is my homeboy." But hey, I wasn't alone. Andie McPhee and I had a blast trading Tic Tacs for E tablets.

Dawn Schafer, BSC

The self proclaimed individual of the Babysitters Club, Dawn enjoyed eating healthy food, referring to cheeseburgers as "cow carcasses," and long walks on the beach. As a child, I thought the idea of being Mary Anne and getting to be best friends and stepsibs with Dawn was awesome. So I decided to send MA off to creepy Grandma Verna's in Iowa for a few weeks while Dawn and I bonded.


Me: "Why the fuck are you gagging over a burger when there's fresh bok choy in the fridge?"

Dawn: "Um, I've got a date with a guy who thinks vegetarians are losers, and I want him to think I'm cool. I'm practicing on a non vegan veggie burger, working up to salmon burger, and should be on turkey by tonight. Don't tell my local teen chapter of PETA about this--I'm up for re-election this year!"

Me: "Um...er..."

Dawn: "Why are you hanging out with me, anyway? Don't you have any friends your own age? If you don't get out of here, I'll tell Ann M. you dropped an F bomb."

Oh my whockety, even my fantasies are depressing.

Lindsay Weir, Freaks and Geeks


I was eager to hang out with Lindsay because of her cute guy heavy group of friends. But James Franco was off limits because I did not want to go a round with Busy Phillips. And lovely Jason Segal had eyes only for Linds and disco dancing Janis Ian. Even Seth Rogen passed me up in favor of a tuba playing she-male. Things got even worse during our screening of Pink Floyd's The Wall, when I showed the gang my impression of Syd "I wish I were Brian Wilson" Barrett (it's remarkably close to my impressions of the love child of the Crypt-Keeper and Terry Schiavo).

In the New Year, I'm thinking of doing some more BSC books. And perhaps some BSC related contests--that is, I'll hold nominations for the best BSC book of all time. And maybe best BSC ghostwriter, best BSC member, and of course, lamest member.