Five Moments of Friendship
Dec. 13th, 2013 12:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
osprey_archerA question via ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
poeticknowledge: Your top five favorite memories with Emma :)
Emma has been one of my best friends since we first met in sixth grade. Before sixth grade, I hadn’t met her but disliked the idea of her, because she stole my orchestra stand partner (who happened to be her childhood best friend, but never mind that, Sarah had promised to be my stand partner first. Harrumph!)
But I forgave her when we met in sixth grade.
1. Writing Axy together in sixth grade. (That link goes to a short excerpt from the story, which we dug up a couple of years ago.) Not only did we write it, but we made all of our friends listen to our thrilling new installments at recess.
2. Our haunted house! Actually, Chelsea and I plotted the haunted house for years before putting it together in eighth grade. We hung sheets from my basement ceiling to create a little maze, hid a co-conspirator among the sheets, and then during our Halloween party shuttled everyone into the gloomy darkness, at which point the conspirator leaped out at everyone.
Monika actually fell down with surprise. It was glorious.
But part two of the plan required the conspirator to kidnap one of the partygoers. Of course said partygoer would also need to be a conspirator...which meant that we would need a third conspirator, because obviously I couldn’t disappear from a party I was hosting. So we drafted Emma in for the hiding-in-the-basement part.
3. The summer after eighth grade, Emma starred in a black and white silent movie I made. I had never actually seen a silent film or possibly even a black and white one, but I felt - correctly, I think - that it’s easier to get a convincing performance out of amateur actors if they don’t have to deliver lines.
It was totally Gothic. Emma goes to college, racks up twenty-three majors, and falls into madness. Her friends have to forcibly separate her from the Spaghetti-Os can that she calls “my precious.” (We were all big Lord of the Rings fans.) But rather than throw out the Spaghetti-Os can, one of the friends keeps it, and the film fades out on a shot of her holding the can against her cheek and whispering, “My precious…”
(Oh, I just remembered I have a post about my films! I am an AUTEUR. I am an ARTISTE. This impressively artistic feature (it’s black and white and silent) clearly is an indictment of the American collegiate system, which straitjackets students’ minds by insisting that they must imprison themselves in the cage of a single, narrow “major”. The Spaghetti-Os symbolize these small-minded “majors,” which debase knowledge as Spaghetti-Os debase food.)
4. Emma and I have not created any further artistic masterpieces, but we have had some exciting adventures with cookery. The first time we tried to cook something, we set a bag of microwaveable popcorn on fire. Okay, I exaggerate, but when we opened the kitchen door to check on it, smoke billowed out as if the whole house was on fire.
We’ve gotten better at cooking since then. Emma is responsible for many of the tea parties that I’ve posted photos of here.
5. HAHA, did I mention the time that I dragged Emma along to spend a weekend with one of my college friends whom Emma had previously met for a mere ten seconds at a fencing tournament? I actually had an LJ when I did this, so there are multiple entries about it, including a rendition of our discussion about immortality on the road back from Iowa. (One of my comments on the entry includes the line “I LIVE to rain on ill-considered parades. It gives me warm fuzzies of evil.”)
I have no idea why either Emma or Dorothea agreed to this, but the trip actually went pretty brilliantly, and ever since then Emma and I have made a habit of introducing each other to our friends whenever said friends are handy. This has mostly gone well, although I will be forever grieved that I’m never going to be able to spend much time with Ryan, the Harry Potter fan who bakes the most amazing cakes and lives, exasperatingly, in New York.
poeticknowledge: Your top five favorite memories with Emma :)Emma has been one of my best friends since we first met in sixth grade. Before sixth grade, I hadn’t met her but disliked the idea of her, because she stole my orchestra stand partner (who happened to be her childhood best friend, but never mind that, Sarah had promised to be my stand partner first. Harrumph!)
But I forgave her when we met in sixth grade.
1. Writing Axy together in sixth grade. (That link goes to a short excerpt from the story, which we dug up a couple of years ago.) Not only did we write it, but we made all of our friends listen to our thrilling new installments at recess.
2. Our haunted house! Actually, Chelsea and I plotted the haunted house for years before putting it together in eighth grade. We hung sheets from my basement ceiling to create a little maze, hid a co-conspirator among the sheets, and then during our Halloween party shuttled everyone into the gloomy darkness, at which point the conspirator leaped out at everyone.
Monika actually fell down with surprise. It was glorious.
But part two of the plan required the conspirator to kidnap one of the partygoers. Of course said partygoer would also need to be a conspirator...which meant that we would need a third conspirator, because obviously I couldn’t disappear from a party I was hosting. So we drafted Emma in for the hiding-in-the-basement part.
3. The summer after eighth grade, Emma starred in a black and white silent movie I made. I had never actually seen a silent film or possibly even a black and white one, but I felt - correctly, I think - that it’s easier to get a convincing performance out of amateur actors if they don’t have to deliver lines.
It was totally Gothic. Emma goes to college, racks up twenty-three majors, and falls into madness. Her friends have to forcibly separate her from the Spaghetti-Os can that she calls “my precious.” (We were all big Lord of the Rings fans.) But rather than throw out the Spaghetti-Os can, one of the friends keeps it, and the film fades out on a shot of her holding the can against her cheek and whispering, “My precious…”
(Oh, I just remembered I have a post about my films! I am an AUTEUR. I am an ARTISTE. This impressively artistic feature (it’s black and white and silent) clearly is an indictment of the American collegiate system, which straitjackets students’ minds by insisting that they must imprison themselves in the cage of a single, narrow “major”. The Spaghetti-Os symbolize these small-minded “majors,” which debase knowledge as Spaghetti-Os debase food.)
4. Emma and I have not created any further artistic masterpieces, but we have had some exciting adventures with cookery. The first time we tried to cook something, we set a bag of microwaveable popcorn on fire. Okay, I exaggerate, but when we opened the kitchen door to check on it, smoke billowed out as if the whole house was on fire.
We’ve gotten better at cooking since then. Emma is responsible for many of the tea parties that I’ve posted photos of here.
5. HAHA, did I mention the time that I dragged Emma along to spend a weekend with one of my college friends whom Emma had previously met for a mere ten seconds at a fencing tournament? I actually had an LJ when I did this, so there are multiple entries about it, including a rendition of our discussion about immortality on the road back from Iowa. (One of my comments on the entry includes the line “I LIVE to rain on ill-considered parades. It gives me warm fuzzies of evil.”)
I have no idea why either Emma or Dorothea agreed to this, but the trip actually went pretty brilliantly, and ever since then Emma and I have made a habit of introducing each other to our friends whenever said friends are handy. This has mostly gone well, although I will be forever grieved that I’m never going to be able to spend much time with Ryan, the Harry Potter fan who bakes the most amazing cakes and lives, exasperatingly, in New York.
