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Here’s a Sincere, Heartfelt Apology…Oh, And Something Else

Finally getting back to one of the real reasons I started this blog – collecting and recapping various random memories.

I received some plays the other day via InterLibrary Loan, and I was reading down the cast list of one of them when I noticed a particular name, an unusual name, a last name. The name of someone I went to elementary school with, and around whom this story revolves.

He transferred to my school when we were in fifth grade. I won’t say his name, so let’s just call him…Levi Dungarees, since despite wearing a spiky silver belt to complement his spiky silver-blond hair, his jeans sagged so low you could see exactly which Looney Tunes character was on his boxer shorts every day (it was usually Taz). Remember, this was the nineties, when such things were in. I’m glad that my mom refused to let me wear jeans that sagged like that, otherwise I’d forever remember what underwear I was wearing that day.

Anyway…

I wasn’t popular at all, and Levi, even though he’d only been in school a month or two, was already one of the most popular kids in the class. And of course, he tormented me pretty much every day, making fun of my hair, my clothes, everything about me. Especially my thick glasses. One day, he was chosen to hand out the hot lunch stickers (in my school, when we went to the cafeteria, if you were getting hot lunch you wore a sticker saying which meal you were signed up to get), and instead of peeling it off and handing it to me or sticking it on my shirt like a normal, kind human being, he peeled it and stuck it on my glasses. Right across the bridge of my nose. Of course, he thought it was funny, but I actually couldn’t see. He tried to then peel it off, and it wouldn’t come off, so I had to spend the next 10 minutes blindly chipping away at the residue of the sticker until my teacher let me go to the bathroom and attempt to soak the rest of it off in the sink.

In October, we Jews celebrate Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement, when we’re supposed to ask forgiveness from our fellow man and atone for our sins, among other things. In Hebrew class, our teacher gave us an assignment to write an apology note to someone else in the class. Of all people, who did Levi decide to write to, and hand deliver to?

Me.

He gave me the note to read, and it was actually quite nice. In it, he apologized for putting the sticker on my glasses, and for teasing me in front of all the other boys. I thought it was sweet, and I thanked him and accepted the apology.

But with someone like Levi, you know that something else is up.

After I finished reading the note, he said something like…

“I’m really sorry. But look, I just want to tell you three things about yourself that you need to change, if you want people to be nicer to you…”

I don’t remember what those three things were – it was probably about wearing better clothes or stop using big words or something – but I kept thinking, “so this is what he really had in mind to tell me when he wrote that note.” I nodded along with this impromptu lecture, more or less zoning out, and probably responding with something like, “okay, I understand,” or something sheepish. Because the whole time he was talking (and even now, when I think of it) I’m all…

Image result for what a load of crap rachel

Seriously…if you’re that garbage-y of a person that you see an apology note as an excuse to shit all over them, don’t write the note. As a matter of fact, don’t exist at all.

If I could redo that moment, I would have probably done something differently, maybe said…”here’s three things about you that I don’t like” or maybe….”hold that thought”, and then called over a teacher or someone else – anyone else – to listen to what he was saying, and been like “okay, here’s someone you can complain to, because I don’t care” (even though I was 10 years old so I probably kind of did care).

A non-apology apology is chicken shit, and I have another story about that for another time. But a seemingly sincere apology that’s essentially a non-apology apology, and is a cover for backpedaling caveats and side-complaints, that’s worse. It just defeats the whole purpose of apologizing in the first place. So let that be a lesson. When you apologize, be sincere about it, and if you can’t, then don’t. 

And that’s probably the first time I’ve thought about him in about sixteen years.

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Open, Open Damned Bag

It’s been a long week so far, and I haven’t been too inspired to write…well, much of anything. I don’t really know why. But I need to be writing more, in general, so I thought I’d just let out what’s on my mind today.

I feel like I may have written about this before, so apologies if this sounds familiar.

Both yesterday and today, I bought something that came in one of those Zip-Loc pouches that you have to cut or tear before you can easily pop open. Or, I mean, “easily.” Both times, I cut/tore the plastic, only to not be able to get into the bag. One I eventually pried open with my nails, but for the other one I actually had to go in with scissors and make an incision, which meant I had to eat the whole thing because it didn’t really close all the way. Is there a more annoying sensation than wanting to get into a bag that’s designed to be easy to open, and having to resort to near violence to get at the treats inside? What did we do in a past life to deserve this? I mean, if the bag is designed to be easy to open, actually make it easy to open. Or tell us to cut it open.

Anyway. I ended up getting to enjoy the snacks eventually.

How are you doing?

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Things Adults Should Get A Medal For

This is either a statement of me accepting my reality, or getting way too into The Girl With The Lower Back Tattoo.

So, here’s the preliminary list.

  1. Putting on pants before 3 PM.
  2. Shopping before midnight.
  3. Paying a bill with a check in an envelope with a stamp.
  4. Finishing a bag of lettuce before it all goes bad.
  5. Eating the recommended amounts of fruits and vegetables each day.
  6. Drinking the recommended amount of water each day.
  7. Keeping plants alive for more than a week.
  8. Complimenting other peoples’ children even when they don’t deserve it.
  9. Resisting the urge to eat all the desserts (no medal for me today).
  10. Deleting dating apps from your phone.
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Why I Live in a Fantasy World

I feel like it all started in elementary school. One of my teachers used the expression “tricks up my sleeve,” and I thought she actually was hiding things in the sleeve of her Ann Taylor blouse. But in my adolescent mind, I totally thought that sleeves were where people actually hid things.

Since then, it’s all been fantasy.

I guess I’m just kind of that way. It makes life more interesting.

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What To Do When You Have No Friends

Not all of us are lucky enough to live with friends. Or even have them. But there can be a way around that…in a roundabout way.

So, last night, I wanted to watch a video online that was thirty minutes long, but I also needed to make some (ratchet) dinner. Most of what I wanted out of the video was actually what they were saying (it was a video of two guys talking and playing video games) rather than the visual, so I chrome-casted my computer to my TV. When I do that, it uses the TV volume, so it ends up being extraordinarily loud. And unlike TV, the sound on a YouTube video is not always so filtered out. Therefore, with the volume cranked up, you can hear breathing, chairs squeaking, noisy eating, and any background noises – the stuff that is excised from most television shows. And if I closed my eyes, I could imagine that there were actually two guys playing video games behind me as I cooked. I can usually hear my neighbors and all the noisy noise they and their friends make almost every night, so I imagined all my neighbors walking past my place, jealous of all the video gaming and fun going on in apartment 803.

In other news, has anyone seen that new commercial for the Princess Diana documentary? It’s weird that they have the horror-movie “one dark and scary night voice” to voice-over advertisements about a (mostly) positive documentary on her life.