Category: Shut Up and Write Challenge

Prompt:

Write a scene that paints a picture for your reader about a memorable trip in your life. Use the following questions to create a sense of forward movement in this scene:

• Were you traveling solo or with others?
• Where did you go and how did it feel?
• What was your greatest learning experience from your trip?

I’m going to stray from the topic a bit and talk about a future memory. The Electric Daisy Carnival.

The first time I heard about EDC, I wanted to go. I missed raved culture by a couple of years, but have always loved EDM and dancing. And neon lights. And festivals. Even the glowsticks. Yes, I said it.

I am obsessed with Michael Alig’s story and Disco Bloodbath and Party Monster and all that. I only went to the Limelight once because I wasn’t yet 21 and my fake ID was terrible. The Limelight cared. The Tunnel on the other hand, did not. And for a suburban girl new to living in NYC during the late 80s/early 90s, well, talk about culture shock. But that shock in no way overshadowed the  pure joy alongside the realization that I was home. I would later return home to the suburbs, but that is a different story with a less joyfully narrative. (Buy the book.) 

As far as Michael goes, there is a slight possibility we were both at the Tunnel during my final year in Manhattan, but he was in the super secret part that a suburban-born, shy college girl didn’t have access to. That was me – I was the suburban-born, shy college student.

The sad truth is that I didn’t even know any of that was going on until I saw the movie “Party Monster.” And while I went to clubs ALL the time (sorry, Mom and Dad) and they were wild, it was nothing like in the movie. 

Please note:

1. This all happened before there was the internet.
2. I am not glorifying Michael Alig at all but Club kids are AMAZING.
   1. Although I do have a little crush on how Mac Culkin played the part. And Chloe Sevigny…

Anyhow, where were we? Oh yes…

EDC travels around the world, but the main event is in Vegas. I never went because it’s expensive and if we really get down to it, I’m not all that adventurous. I have been to Vegas several times wit family, but each time they made me look like a tired, old lady – which is now an accurate description of me.

The point: Shortly after my brother passed, tickets for EDC Vegas went on sale. I bough some. I thought my brother would be proud of me finally doing something I was always talking about because I talked a lot about things and never did them and that drove him nuts. And . . .Vegas, a place he loved possibly more than I did.

Very, very long story short: I ended up cancelling my tickets. See above where I tell you I’m not all that adventurous. I wasn’t lying. But then COVID hit and the whole thing didn’t matter any more any way.

All that said and again saving you most of the details, I now have EDC Orlando tickets for November. It’s not as big as EDC Vegas but:

1. It’s cheap.
2. It’s easier to get to.
3. It’s near Disney, which is helping me bribe my husband to go with me. 
4. Most importantly: Rather than starting at 7:30 pm, it starts at 1. In the afternoon. It’s over by 1 am. Not only am I not-so-adventurous, I am useless past 8 pm and possibly asleep.
   1. Also note that when I first got the Vegas tickets, I didn’t realize that all the day activities were a completely separate ticket and involved camping (or more so glamping). I also didn’t realize how much traffic awaits at the entrance even if you stay close by. And who goes to Vegas unless they stay on the strip? Come on, now. 

So there you have it. My future memory involves EDC Orlando. One of my friends who is way more adventurous than I am is also going. It’s going to be awesome. And I may even get to meet Winnie-the-Pooh. I mean when go to Disney as opposed to if I were to take any psychedelic drugs at the festival, which I won’t be.

FYI, If you are curious as to whether or not there are articles on the internet about 50+ year olds going to EDC and being accepted and having fun, there are. You’re welcome.

Prompt:

Let’s go way back and think about our very first relationships in life—our childhood best friends. Who were you closest with as a child? Were they schoolmates, neighborhood friends, or cousins?

Today, we’ll spend our writing time answering the following questions:

How did you meet your closest childhood buddies?

What did you all do to spend your time?

Did you ever get into any trouble?

So here’s the thing about my childhood friends – or more so my childhood in general: I don’t really remember much of it. I am 51 so I can blame it on old(ish) age or the idea that all of my later in life experiences (12+) have taken up all the spots in my memory, pushing the oldest ones out. I can also blame it on the anxiety and depression meds I’ve been on for about 20 years. Or even just the anxiety as I hear that can cause memory loss. But, I can sit here and guess at the reason all night, but it’s not going to help get any of my childhood memories back. So what I’m going about are some experiences that are sporadic at best. 

Rochester

When I was really little, 5 and under, we lived in Rochester, NY. These were the days before people needed fences. Actually I just made that up. Maybe people did have fences back then, but in my limited 0-5 years old experience, they did not. Our backyard blended with not only our neighbors’ on either side, but also with the ones in back. My grandma lived a few yards down and my mother’s very good friend, Val, lived right behind us. Or possibly slightly diagonal from us. Val had two sons: Jay, who was my age, and Danny, who was younger. Jay was my best friend and I believe my first boyfriend – as if any child 5 and under has any business having a boyfriend. In fact, PSA: Stop perpetuating the idea that little kids have boyfriends/girlfriends – people worry about children being exposed to relationships in the LGBTQ+ community because they are too young to see that kind of love, but as soon as they can talk, y’all asking them if they have a boyfriend/girlfriend. What’s the difference? Stop it. Love is love. People are who they are. Having boyfriend or girlfriend is not an end-all so stop forcing that on people of all ages! End rant. Anyhow, I vaguely remember Jay’s living room, but everything else is pretty much gone. 

I also remember someone having a swing set – quite possibly Jay and Danny – and me chasing after someone older that I had a crush on (determined by me, not adults) under one of the swings while it was swinging. He got through, I did not. It’s almost comforting to know  that awkwardness and clumsiness have always been a part of my “cute and quirky” personality and that it didn’t spring out of nowhere as I got older. Anyhow, I want to say that his name was Timmy and he took me and my bleeding lip to my mom and apologized profusely. But I cannot for the life of me remember who this kid was, where he lived, or how I knew him. Did I mention my imaginary (or so I was told) friend Christopher Robin or that time my grandfather accidentally sat on him at the dinner table and ruined my entire Thanksgiving. Anyway, I’m (pretty) sure Timmy, or whatever his name was, was an actual person.

I went to Walt Disney Elementary, which had Disney characters painted on the walls. I can still see them. I’m also envisioning child hall monitors, and maybe I was even one when I was in kindergarten. I think I threw up on the bus or in class one day, but that shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone as to this day, I am known for randomly throwing up in public. Just another one of my life-long “cute and quirky, aka really gross” traits. It’s great. We drove by that school a lot when we went back to Rochester to visit my grandmothers. 

Syracuse

I think we moved to Syracuse, NY, when I was 5, but I only remember somewhere between first and third grade. I remember my classroom, the classroom next to it where we would sometimes watch movies and also some science shows, I think. I remember how the bathrooms were. We lived there until I was about 12 and I can’t remember anything else about the school or friends.

My best friend, Linda, lived next door. Her parents were from Italy and cooked all the time. We would go over there for Christmas Eve for a full Italian-Christmas meal, most of which I wouldn’t touch today – being a wannabe vegan and all. They would send Linda and I to bed when it got late and we would try to stay awake, listening to the Santa tracker, and waiting to hear him on the roof. I always woke up in my own bed early Christmas morning. I may or may not have also begged my parents to let me stay up and go to Midnight Mass with them. Another thing I wouldn’t do now – partly because I am no longer Catholic, mostly because that’s just too late. 

Tracy lived diagonally from Linda and had a huge Weeping Willow tree in her yard. Or maybe that was in the yard next door. Wherever it was, we used to sit under it.  Tracy had hermit crabs and her dad collected clocks. They were all over the house (the clocks, not the crabs) and when I slept over, they kept me awake. So much ticking. So much ringing. Maybe that is what drove Tracy to her addiction to dog biscuits. Sure, I ate them when he offered because I wanted her to think I was cool, but they were really really gross. Sometimes we would sleep in a tent in her backyard and that was the best. One day when we were sitting in the clock-filled family room, Tracy’s mom came in and to us she had just played the greatest game. It was Pac Man. We had no idea what she was talking about. Tracy later moved to Connecticut, which is where I would end up, but we never reconnected.

Heather lived a bit down the street and her older sister listened to cool bands like Rainbow and the Cars. I still remember how I felt whenever I hear the song “Bye, Bye Love.” A Cars video taught me that sometimes people kiss with their tongues. Much later, my mom saw Rick Ocasek and his supermodel wife getting out of a taxi in New York City.

We all played flashlight tag and made a slip and slide down the small hill between our and Linda’s house. We rode our bikes all over the neighborhood and our parents had no problem with that. It was the late 70s, early 80s and an entirely different time. 

One Halloween, my cousin, who I had been really close to and who would come stay a week at a time with us, and I created a haunted house for my parents. Lauren hid under the bed in the spare room and grabbed my mother’s ankles as she walked by. My mother was about 8 months pregnant at the time and said that we almost caused her to have the baby right there. 

And then…

When I was about 12 we moved again and then to Connecticut when I was 14. I have quite a few not-so-pleasant memories of that time between 12 and 14 and the people surrounding it. I’m hoping that someday I won’t remember those and the earlier ones will come back. As far 14+, well, that’s a much more colorful story, but a different story altogether. And for that one, you’ll have to buy my book.