The person below me

[FIGJAM]

Spend as many hours a week looking for a job as you would working at a job!!!

TPBM is NOT ready!!!!!!!!

[theCryptofishist]

Thank goodness I'm not looking for a job.
tpbm has been paying special attention to their punctuation when they write lately.

[BeeWeeDee]

Yes. With so many grammar police running rampant. Not so with sentence structure though. Verbs, nouns, gerunds, MEH.

TPBM knows how to get rid of Pre-Burning Man blastoff jitters (or at least knows how to tame them).

[MikeGyver]

Not having enough time to worry usually helps.

TPBM is watching the clock.

[Eric]

Only because it's ticking away incessantly, and I still haven't packed a thing (work first, then packing).




tpbm has everything packed and ready, and doesn't leave for days.

[theCryptofishist]

Truer than you can ever know.
tpbm has no shame...

[shroom]

eh depends, i might
tpbm woke up way too early

[Thecatman]

Especially since it's Saturday


TPBM has a vehicle that has a rear window wiper and they never use it

[shroom]

i use it, first car i've owned with one, lol. gotta take advantage of that weird feature.

TPBM also didn't go to BM and somehow survived.

[theCryptofishist]

I had very few bad moments. My biggest concern was if my packages got there. Maybe next year, I;ll forget the whole thing is happening.
tpbm is already making bets as to next year's theme.

[shroom]

lol not yet, just planning on going dammit! (been trying to get back for way too long)

now that you mention it....

TPBM has a good bet for the theme already

[MFOB]

I do. Itll be just called "The Beehive". Since it will be in Utah for the first time, BMorg will have to honor the state with a theme.

TPBM Loves Warm Beer....

[theCryptofishist]

No.
tpbm has rescued a kitten this summer.

[southern crone]

Uh, I think she rescued me.

TPBM will take time to reflect on 9-11.

[goathead]

Actually doing the exact same thing I was doing that day. Working the night through, fucking off on a different version of eplaya.
Remember eplayians wondering is their families were ok, some were not.
Just a big, Welcome Back to the FUCKING Default World of Death and Destruction.

tpbm, no longer has a problem going back to the default world after the burn.

[Eric]

True. Though this year the playa lung is killing me, I'm fine mentally.




tpbm is ready for a vacation

[The CO]

Yep. Need to rest after my burncation.

TPBM is decompressing in a totally new way.

[theCryptofishist]

Whatever.
tpbm has so confused health and geology that they refer to the "sedimentary lifestyle".

[shroom]

lol, no but i did laugh at that

TPBM wants to tell us a bedtime story

[MFOB]

Sure:
Once upon a time, there was this girl named Missy. Missy worked as a barista at the Starbucks on Shea Boulevard just off Scottsdale Road, you know, that location that consists of only a drive thru and a window where pedestrians can walk up and give their order. Missy didn’t particularly enjoy being a barista, but she didn’t hate it either. She figured this was just a temporary position while she finished her studies to be a paralegal.

One morning, just as every morning, Missy was working her early shift at Starbucks. She had a late night of studying behind her and was pretty sure that her lack of sleep was eventually going to lead to a premature death, but she was working as fast as she could, handing out overpriced coffee beverages at the drive thru window. In the middle of her shift, a black Mercedes pulled up. This vehicle wasn’t unlike the many other Mercedes, BMWs and Porches that drove through every day- I mean, she worked in north Scottsdale, where status mean carrying around a Louis Vuitton Bag and driving a car that at least had a V6 and cost over $50 grand. Anyway, there was something about this particular Mercedes that made Missy perk up. Then, after a second, she realized what she was looking at and her eyes narrowed. Behold, here was the car owned by Missy’s worst enemy, Cassandra.

*cue flashback sequence*

Missy had known Cassandra since they were in second grade. They were in Mrs. Kenningwood’s class together at Robson Elementary School, in Mesa. It was in this class, while doing a math-related group activity, that Cassie (as she was known then) and Missy began taking notice of each other.

“Hey, are you the one who has the Arthur backpack?” Cassie asked Missy.

“Yeah,” said Missy.

“Cool, I really like that show. Francine is my favorite,” said Cassie.

“Mine too!” said Missy.

It was at this moment that Mrs. Kenningwood walked over to the girls’ group, so the two quickly ended their conversation. But it was clear from that moment on that they had struck a friendship. Not long after that initial conversation, Missy and Cassie were inseparable. They would often walk arm-in-arm on the playground during recess, would sometimes have supervised sleepovers at each others’ houses, and had even made friendship bracelets for each other. Their friendship continued through elementary school, but it was soon to come to an abrupt end in the beginning of middle school.

Between sixth and seventh grade, Cassie was sent off to a girls camp by her parents. Cassie was pretty bummed that she wasn’t going to be able to spend the summer being lazy and going swimming her friends in town, but Missy reassured her that she would miss anything major over the summer. Cassie went off to camp, and almost three months later, returned as an unrecognizable form of herself. In short, Cassie came back a snob.

Let’s back up a bit. Cassie had always been kind of snob-ish, having been a product of two parents who were quite wealthy and snobs themselves. However, she was too young and too uninterested to flout her parents’ status, which was lucky for Missy, who came from a one-parent, working-class background. Somehow though, in the course of two-and-a-half months, that changed. Missy ran up to Cassie as soon as she saw her and excitedly gave her a hug.

“Cassie! I’ve missed you! How was your summer?” she asked.

“It was, like, whatever,” Cassie said, flinging her hair back.

“Oh, okay…that’s cool. What’s your class schedule looking like?”

“Hmm, I don’t even know.” Cassie took out her schedule. “Looks like I’m starting my day in English.”

“Nice, me too!” Missy said. “Do you want to walk there together?”

“Actually, I’m going to hang out with Rachel and Rebecca before class,” Cassie said. “I’ll just see you there. Oh, and by the way, can you call me Cassandra now? It sounds so much more distinguished than ‘Cassie’. You know what they say, ‘new school, new opportunity to reinvent yourself’. Buh-bye!”

With that, Cassandra left in a flourish, and Missy was left dumbfounded. Rachel and Rebecca? Ugh, those two girls were so hoity toity. Why on earth would Cassie want to be called Cassandra? Why does she want to ‘reinvent’ herself? Missy headed to class in the hopes that her friend was just going through a weird phase.

Weeks later, Cassandra’s new attitude proved to be more than a phase. She always hung out with Rachel and Rebecca, started using phrases like “that’s so fetch” and “like, oh my gosh!” and would always wear these giant, dark black sunglasses that covered half her face. She also sported a lot more Hollister and Abercrombie and Fitch apparel. At first, Missy was bothered and annoyed by this change, but eventually started making new friends at school and started forgetting about her former best friend. The two girls would remain distant acquaintances throughout the rest of their schooling, until an event in the final weeks of their senior year of high school would cause a run-in between the two.

Cassandra was on the varsity cheer squad her junior and seniors years, which led to an incredible boost in social status and a lot more male callers at her house. She enjoyed the attention. Finally, she thought, all her hard work she put into transforming herself was paying off. Cassandra’s parents were proud of her accomplishments as well–they participated as cheer squad parent boosters every week and loved socializing with the other cheer parents. One Friday, three weeks before graduation, the cheer captain, Marie, asked Cassandra if she wanted to come to a house party she was hosting that night.

“My parents are going to be out of town until Saturday night and they said that I could have access to the liquor cabinet,” said Marie, her eyebrows raised in mischievousness. “How does a glass of tasty pinot grigio sound?”

“Um, I don’t know,” said Cassandra. I have a lot to do this weekend, and my parents–”

“–Oh come ooooonnn!” Marie cut in. “Your parents will be fine. Plus, Rebecca and Rachel are going to be there and there will be a lot of cute boys like Matt.”

Matt, huh? Cassandra briefly considered this pitch. She looked at Marie and said, “Okay! But only if my parents are okay with it.”

“You’ll be there, don’t worry!” Marie said over her shoulder and she sped off for class.

Hours later, Cassandra found herself having had one too many glasses of Barefoot Pinot Grigio, sitting on the couch of Marie’s parents’ house, giggling at whatever she found funny and attempting to steal glances of Matt without him noticing. Matt caught her looking at him, and, feeling flattered, sat down next to her.

“How’s it going?” he asked casually.

“It’s good, you know. Great. I’m just enjoying the night. You?” Cassandra said.

“I’m great,” he chuckled. “Hey random question. Weren’t you in Mrs. Kenningwood’s class at Robson?”

“Yeah, I was. How on earth did you know that?”

“I was in her class too. Don’t you remember me? I was the kid who got in trouble for putting glue on the teacher’s chair.”

“Ohhhh yeah. Like, oh my gosh! That was you?”

“Haha, yeah, I was kind of a trouble maker. My parents weren’t happy about that. ”

Cassandra looked at Matt in amazement. How did she not realize earlier that they were in the same second grade class?

Matt seemed to answer her private thought when he said, “You didn’t really seem to pay attention to me though. I mean, you were always hanging out with that Misty girl.”

“Oh, you mean Missy?”

“Yeah, whatever her name is. She’s pretty awkward, huh?”

“Yeah…” Cassandra was embarrassed by her association with someone “awkward” like Missy, so she tried to make up for it. “Well, it was like, I kind of felt sorry for her because she couldn’t make any other friends, because… because she was embarrassed about some things.”

“Oh really?” Matt was intrigued. “Please, do tell.”

“Well… don’t tell anyone this, but Missy was.. she was a bed wetter when she was younger.”

Matt laughed out lout. “No way!” he said. “That is crazy. Oh man!”

“Please don’t tell anyone!” Cassandra whispered, hushing Matt. At the same time, she was thinking: Oh my God, what did I just say?

On Monday morning, Missy got to school a little early so that she could rehearse some lines for drama class before school started. She had been cast in a supporting role for the upcoming musical, and wanted to make sure she shined during her performance. She headed to her locker to grab her script, and noticed that her locker door had been vandalized.

“BED WETTER” was the message that had been scrawled on her locker door. The letters were huge, covering most of the real estate that was available to them. Missy was mortified. She immediately looked around her to make sure that no one was around. The halls were silent. Missy then ran to the drama room, where she found some cleaning supplies that would remove permanent marker. She only had minutes to spare before other students would start showing up. She ran to her locker and scrubbed as hard and fast as she could until the message was gone, leaving only the faintest trace on her locker. After removing the graffiti, Missy teared up.

She could only remember one instance where she had wet the bed after becoming coherent as a child. She and Cassie were having a sleepover, and the two had downed 44 oz. Thirstbusters in no time flat. Then, in Cassie’s room, the two started telling silly stories. Missy laughter, combines with the mass quantities of soda she had just drank, were too much for her bladder to handle, and the result was that Missy had an accident. She was mortified, but Cassie’s mom was able to help her clean up, and the two never mentioned the event again.

Upon remembering that story, Missy’s sadness turned to anger. That bitch, she thought. She’s the only person who could’ve known about what happened. Why would she try to harass me about that now? How many people has she told? She vowed revenge.

Missy decided to act as if her locker had never been vandalized, but made a point to avoid the spots on campus where Cassandra and her group hung out. She also tried to think of ways she could get back at her former friend. Between classes and drama rehearsal, she was nervous about who else know about her childhood incident, but no one came up to her about it, and soon, Missy was so wrapped up in other things that she forgot about her plan to get back at her former friend.

Missy’s musical went off without a hitch, she and Cassandra graduated, and Cassandra got a brand new Mercedes from her parents as a graduation present. She was elated. Missy would often see Cassandra driving around town, with Matt in the passenger’s seat, grinning like she didn’t have a care in the world. Upon the sight of this, Missy would roll her eyes. She still hated Cassandra for what she had done, but Missy needed to focus on other things, like getting ready for college. She had been accepted at Scottsdale Community College for paralegal studies. If everything went well, she would go on to get a Bachelor’s degree afterward.

*cue present day*

The driver’s side window of the black Mercedes went down, and sure enough, inside the car was Cassandra. She still looked the same, albeit a bit more tan. When she turned to give Missy her debit card, her eyes widened.

“Oh my gosh!” Cassandra shouted. “Is that you, Missy?”

“Yep.” Missy replied. “It’s me.” She forced a half smile.

“How crazy is this?! How have you been?!”

Missy couldn’t tell if Cassandra was being serious or not. She replied, “You know, I’m just, um, living the dream. I’m going to Scottsdale Community College and–”

“–No freaking way, that’s awesome! And you work here?”

“Yeah, for the time being.”

“Oh, that is so awesome. I’m taking off a year at school and just helping my parents out at home. They moved out of Mesa and bought a cute place up here. What a small world this is, huh? Usually I go to the Starbucks near Kierland, but the line was ridiculous, so I came down here. Gotta have my Skinny Vanilla Latte!”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Missy nodded. “So, is that what you always get?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s delicious and not fatty. I have to stay in shape, you know?”

Missy continued to nod. “Yeah, I totally get that.”

“Anyway, here’s my debit card. I think I’ve found my new fave S-bucks location!”

Missy took the card and ran it, visions of senior year going through her head. In a haste, she poured out the cup that had “Cassandra” written on it and remade the beverage, adding regular vanilla syrup and half-and-half as the milk base for the latte. She also added a packet of sugar, for good measure. This will keep you looking svelte, she thought, feeling the victory of long-awaited vengeance. She handed to remade drink and debit card to Cassandra. Cassandra took a sip.

“Oh wow, this is so much better than the one that the other location makes.” Cassandra said. “From now on, I’m coming here. Buh-bye!”


TPBM thought that the bedtime story was TL;DR, much as I did.

[theCryptofishist]

It's like you read my mind.
tpbm crochets doilies for turtles.

[Elorrum]

No, for tortillas.
tpbm is ready to run with whatever their dyslexia suggests.

[shroom]

MFOB has the best reply ever!

Always
TPBM wants to dance

[Elorrum]

No, but I'll listen to some dance music.

Tpbm understands what I mean when I say that today is my Saturday.

[theCryptofishist]

Oh yeah...
tpbm still doesn't have the neurotransmitter levels right.

[shroom]

prob not
TPBM has has a pumpkin spice something recently

[theCryptofishist]

Still working on the soap from last year.
tpbm loves that weird borax power for hand washing.

[shroom]

it's interesting
TPBM really loves candy corn

[theCryptofishist]

No. even as a kid I hated it.
tpbm collected wacky pack stickers as a kid.

[MFOB]

Not only that, But Garbage Pail Kids, and Tootsie Pops with the Indian on them.

TPBM enjoys weather extremes.