The Truth About Cats & Dogs

So, I just had a walk through the twilight of my adolescence. 

Janeane Garafalo versus Uma for the adorableness incarnate that is Ben Chaplain.

Sigh!

What's funny is how I couldn't turn it off. I must've seen this film like seven times at the 99 cent theater in Dale City. That and French Kiss. But unlike Cats & Dogs, French Kiss didn't give me that feeling in the back of my throat like my tongue was actually a rope that slid down my esophagus, so that every time I swallowed I felt a yank on the knot that tied it to my stomach. The scene where they decide to get shitfaced and see what happens, both of them vying for his affections? I'd be a different person if my early HS years weren't characterized by that peculiar sensation that comes when you realize someone is indifferent toward you because you're not...you know, someone else.  

Josh always says he would love to go back to seventh grade, armed with the knowledge he has now. You know, to show those bastards what he's made of. To fuck with them a little here and a little there. I fundamentally disagree. If I awoke in the hell that was my seventh grade, I might actually just hitch-hike to Seattle and find Nirvana. Just to say I saw a show. I'd follow the Dead for awhile before Garcia died. If anyone asked why, I'd say "Just because I can". I might convince my parents to buy stock in Microsoft for ten years, then sell it to buy stock in Apple. But I damn sure wouldn't be concerned with the girls who pulled my hair, calling it weave. Or the boys who called me names. The teachers who hated my potential because they figured I'd never live up can kiss my ass. Just like the ones who gave me the wink-and-nod to go forth into greatness deserve my undying respect and affection. But never do I dwell on such stale trauma. Perhaps Josh hasn't had anything major to throw him into existential crisis lately. Perhaps his last point of such crisis was adolescence, and so it's where his story fodder lies. Whatever the case, I find it amusing that he craves to thumb his nose at his pubescent aggressors. While I would much rather fall to my knees in humble prayer, thanking the good Lord that I made it through, limbs intact.