Stealing Markers

I have talked a little about my best friends on the blog before.

There are three, really, plus my cousin whom you've now met several times and whom I consider a sister as well as a friend. One of my besties, Lynnette, is my roommate right now and not only is this the first time I've ever lived with her, it's the first time in 12 years that we've even lived in the same state. And two of my besties are bloggers, wouldn't you know. It seems we writer types attract each other.

But I met Krissy (I hope it's okay I call her that on here.), known to you as Bitter Betty, through dance team in high school. She blogged about that recently and I urge you to go read. Totally awesome and she spared you the embarrassing stories. I, of course, will not do that.

Krissy (who is now the more grown up Kristen to the rest of the world now) and I actually probably met at a church dance, but we didn't get close until dance team. Where we, along with our other friend Kristin (what a trio we were), annoyed the rest of the girls and probably the entire band as well.

Krissy is the blonde one. I'm the one with the super modern flip in my hair.

It's going to take several posts to talk about some of the dorky ass troublemaker shit we did in high school so I'll leave most of those stories for another day.

Like singing on the bus to competitions. Loudly. Until someone put in the suggestion box that someone should tell us to shut up already.

Or doing the Spartans skits over and over and over (sex can wait! masturbate!).

Or getting high for the first time (on markers, yeah, markers*. right.) and Krissy trying to shotgun her cat hours later saying, "get high, kitty!"

Or the BSGs Club (sorry, I don't think she'll let me explain that one).

Or a cold night behind the Albertsons getting into nothing but trouble. Don't ask me how I got to stay in the car with some guy from the track team and she ended up in the dirt with Paul Mog (who I just tried on find on the Facebook, but couldn't. prob because he's fat now. unless it's this guy. but I'm thinkin' not.).

Krissy and I were finally roommates after high school. We lived in this back house we rented from my 4th grade teacher. It was above a detached garage and the stairs wound around this ginormous tree. With that and the giant wood door to the place and we had ourselves a treehouse.

Inside the treehouse.

Notice our very grownup paintings on the wall.

We loved that treehouse too. Had so much fun. We shared a bedroom and, if I remember right, never had much trouble when it came to having boys over. Even though we both had boys over a plenty. We did have a door hanger that we hung on the door if we had a boy in there. Like that was subtle.

Halloween 1999

We look naked because we were wearing tube tops. It's all we owned apparently.

When my boyfriend dumped me (hi, Josh!), she took me to get my first tattoo while she got her tongue pierced.

Yes, I got a tramp stamp

I also seem to have a thing with sticking out my tongue

Then we went to a party where I got trashed off my ass and tried to make our poor friend Gabe make out with me (poor Gabe). At which point, Krissy did the decent friend thing and drove my ass home and gave me a pillow for the bathroom floor.

Speaking of Gabe. We had a party once and Gabe came over (with his markers. wink wink.). Several of us hung out in my bedroom smoking...markers*. And we ran out of...markers. Gabe is sitting with friends in our living room playing video games and his bag of markers is sitting in from of him on the coffee table.

Kris and I decide that we are totally mission impossible ninjas (read: baked) and we needed to steal the markers! We slunked and we slank and we rolled around (dancers remember?) and I think I grabbed the bag with my toes. Then we ran off and smoked all the markers. Of course Gabe was watching us the whole time and laughing.

Hrm. I wonder why he didn't want to make out with me?

On a Palm Springs trip in 2001. 

Remember the demon child, Kris? And Ja-an! Ja-an! 

*you all know I don't really mean markers, right?