If You Belonged Here

Alice Opens Pandora's Box

Pandora: I hope I’m not too dull.

Alice: Please let me be you. That’s the first question: can we trade lives?

Pandora: Are you sure you want to? I mean, I live an immature carefree life with no parents and excessive alcohol. Oh, and apparently this thing called "adulthood" is looming over me.

Alice: Well, I’m pretty sure this is a facebook status quote from you " Pandora is having an impromptu beer pong match against ___________!”

Pandora: Monday evenings get dull. We make the best of them. I also want to state that I won that game.

Alice: Yeah, I’ll take it.

Question two: this entire interview is going to be about your giant boobs, your college lifestyle and your gangsta father. What do you have to say about that?

Pandora: Sigh. Really?

Alice: No. But if it were what would you say?

Pandora: I’d say I talk about my boobs on a regular basis so it'd really be no different but I think of them as temporary. Polly promised me she'd pay for half of my reduction. Granted she was ten-tequila-shots deep, but a promise is a promise.

Alice: So you're going to go from like a triple Z to a D-ish or what?

Pandora: More like from a DD down to a healthy C. Pretty sure somewhere in the world a boy is going to fall dead the moment I decide to sign the papers at the plastic surgeon's office.

Alice: I'd bet on that being like a lot of boys.

Pandora: No worries.

Alice: Did Polly really give you condoms at a Nordstrom Cafe?

Pandora: Yes and lubricant.

Alice: No she didn’t! What kind of lube?

Pandora: Are you really going to make me dig it out? Hold on. "Natural feeling" k-y.

Alice: That’s so Polly—getting you the good kind of lube and not that "jelly" crap.

Pandora: Um, yeah. I don't know anything about that "jelly" crap. I'll take your word for it.

Alice: Please do. What kind of condoms?

Pandora: A lot of kinds.  She even got me the "Pleasure Pack."

Alice: How many condoms are we talking here?

Pandora: 52 of them to be exact. Apparently that's considered a two-week supply.

Alice: Maybe that’s a two-week supply for her but I'm here to tell you that if I check back in two weeks and you don’t have any of them left then we are trading lives immediately.

Pandora: Trust me, they will be here in two weeks. I've sworn myself off boys for at least a month.

Alice: While we're on the subject of sex—I understand they call your sister Sex On A Stick. What I don’t understand is how you didn’t get that nickname first—seeing as the term so clearly applies to you as well and you are older?

Pandora: How do I say this without coming off narcissistic?

Alice: I’m sure you can think of something.

Pandora: Baby sister is a bit more naive. Essentially, she doesn't realize she's hot.  

Boys regularly tell me they've never met someone like me and are completely entranced by me. Then I dump them. Unless you're the current ex...

Alice: We won't talk about the current ex, will we?

Pandora: Let’s not.

Alice: How long have you known Polly?

Pandora: Since I was about seven. I consider her and the Dol my older sisters.

Alice: But you are actually related to one of them, no?

Pandora: Yep, the Dol is my biological cousin. Her late mother and my father were siblings and the offspring of our commie-pinko grandfather.

Alice: So, of course knowing how awesome the two of them are and the fact that they are both in the San Diego area—did proximity to them factor into your choice of college?

Pandora: I always knew I wanted to live my youthful years where surf meets turf. I had visions of suntan boys with too long of hair. I didn't think I was going to need my extended family down here. Freshman year was tougher than I thought though and I’m very fortunate for both of them.

Alice: Best college classroom moment?

Pandora: During speech class. We were talking about the different mannerism and dialects you use when talk to different people, as in your language towards a cop is different than the way you'd talk to your best friend. This lead to our professor asking us if we ever had any run-ins with the cops. One kid told about the time he got an M.I.P. The professor wasn't sure what it was and the student had to explain it was for minor in possession—in his case, marijuana. My professor then spent ten minutes reminiscing and telling us how she tried weed once and was told to sauté it in red wine, dry it out, and then smoke it. Then she encouraged us to tell us about other illicit activities we took part it. My professor was also a seventy-year-old woman.

Alice: What do you want to be when you grow up?

Pandora: Ugh. Lately I’m thinking housewife. Except I burn cookies and can't cook. I redeem myself with my cleaning abilities. But I'm told I just need to be explosive at sex.

Alice: The sex bit is good advice—who gave it?

Pandora: Polly Poppins herself, who else? In all seriousness, though, I might want to grow up to be Bookgirl. I'm going to declare my major as literature and writing.

Alice: Have you declared a major yet or will this be the first? 

Pandora: This will be the first. I initially considered declaring biology. I shortly found out it was nothing like Grey's Anatomy.  I now feel it is better for humanity if I didn't hold a scalpel or any medical instrument.

Alice: Favorite college kid alcoholic beverage?

Pandora: Pink panty droppers or the classic standby bottle of cheap wine. Never boxed though. I try to keep it classy.

Alice: What do you miss most about high school?

Pandora: Having my closest girlfriends at lunch every single day. That's it though. It was a small town; I needed to get out.

Alice: Were the other kids so jealous of your Papa Gangsta Pete—because he was obviously one of the coolest parents ever?

Pandora: Kids are still jealous.

Alice: I’m jealous.

Pandora: You should be. But honestly, it's only been recently that I could accept the fact that my dad is pretty awesome.

Alice: Does Papa Gangster Pete read the blog?

Pandora: I sure hope not because if that's the case I HAVE NEVER KISSED A BOY AND ALCOHOL IS BAD BAD BAD. Actually, he can barely access a computer.

Alice: I wondered how you were getting away with the alcohol/sex talk. Does he know he has a facebook fan page?

Pandora: I might have mentioned it once.

Alice: So, basically, no.

Pandora: Shh.

Alice: So Papa Gangster Pete is a California Peace Officer. What is that exactly?

Pandora: He says it's adult daycare. But in laymen's terms: prison guard. He loves his job. His personal motto is "you can be a stoner, barely graduate high school, and still make six figures. God, I love California."

Alice: And if there is a Vegas trip for your 21st birthday he will be there, right?

Pandora: He's never been to Sin City so apparently he's using me as an excuse.  But I’ve never been one to turn down my daddy's money so I’ll take it.

Alice: Can I come? I feel like I have to see it to believe it.

Pandora: You can come to Vegas but he's every bit as obnoxious no matter what the setting.  His personal favorite thing to do is tell jokes loudly, in hopes strangers hear them, and then look around to make sure.

Alice: Do you think you inherited that sense of humor?

Pandora: We feed off each other and constantly fire back comebacks. He claims I don't listen to him because he never beat me. But yeah, you can credit my sarcasm to him.

Alice: I’m also jealous of your incredible taste in music. Where, when, and how did that start?

Pandora: I started digging into indie music my freshman year of high school. I was inspired by Garden State and Seth Cohen of the O.C. and further shaped by meeting my male counterpart, who is a college radio DJ. We claim to have "the most culturally relevant friendship ever.” He recently made me a 1000 song playlist full of his favorite indie and hip-hop finds.  

Alice: Are you going to be writing about music more here on the blog? I love when you include playlists.

Pandora: I heart sharing with people what I’m currently listening to. I probably won't be putting up a post purely on music, but I always try to incorporate music into my post.  Also, just ask me and I'll mail you a mix.

Alice: What are you listening to right now?

Pandora: Currently "Satellite Skin" by Modest Mouse is rockin'.

Alice: Does growing up scare you?

Pandora: Insanely. I got depressed turning 20. I don't want responsibilities.

But then I remembered that my dad never grew up—not really—so neither will I. I just need to get a job.

Alice: Have you decided on where you will be spending your summer abroad? 

Pandora: I’m not sure if it'll be summer but I want to study in England: Beer and Boys.

Alice: Favorite book?

Pandora: “The Secret Garden” and then “The Secret Life of Bees.” Apparently, I like the clandestine theme.

Alice: Movie?

Pandora: "The Sound of Music" and then "Garden State."

Alice: Dare I ask for a favorite song?

Pandora: "Green Eyes" by Coldplay. 

Alice: How about artist then?

Pandora: I can't pick one band unless I’m allowed to mash Coldplay/The Fratellis/Spoon/Muse/Phoenix.

Alice: Last question: when you get married, can I have what's left of those condoms?

Pandora: I told you, I only swore off boys for a month. But I'll be happy to buy you your own two-week supply for Earth Day.

Pandora's Father is Straight Hood Status

It's not easy to be me.

Oh, I'm sure you might think I have it easy with my wonderful boyfriend, no bills, parents' income,  fantastic roommates, and killer friends and family.  But, if you knew what I had to endure to achieve all that, you might considered yourself blessed.  

I was cursed to be born to a father who thinks he's "straight hood." 

Let me just tell you now that being 52 years old and bald with a beer belly does not qualify as "hood."

That's right people, my father thinks he's a gangster.  Call him Papa Gangsta Pete and he'll be thrilled that you did.

 

(This photo is two years old.  No, I'm not that awesome and don't always sport the 80s look on a daily basis.  It was part of a distraction from my surprise party.)

My father affectionately calls my mother his "biatch" and constantly asks me if "I'm picking up what he's laying down."  He likes to dance around to the Black Eyed Peas and honestly aspires to be Diddy.  Truly, he was excited about our family vacation to Amsterdam and kept talking about all the "hookers and hash" he was going to get.  When he gets back home from his job as a California State Peace Officer, he's sure to announce that he's "up in the hizzle."      

Putting up with my father is just like putting up with a 7-year -ld boy.  He runs to get places, torments my cat, and plays his Nitendo Wii all the time.  Granted, my father uses the Wii to lose weight.  He's about 3 months strong with the program and we're actually seeing improvements.  I'm tempted to sell him for endorsement deals like Jared did with Subway.  I'm also convinced that I recorded everything my dad did for a  day, I could make bank with it on Youtube.  

Yeah, I use my father, but what loving daughter doesn't? 

With a quick flash of a smile and some puppy eyes, my wallet is 10 dollars richer.  But, don't think I get an allowance, people.  As my dad would say, "That's for kids who actually do chores.  You get welfare, honey."

My dad is horribly obnoxious.  Yes, I do find him funny, but after hearing the joke "Why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella?" for the 46th time, he gets a bit old.  Papa Gangsta Pete is also that one guy in line at Disneyland.  You know, the one who makes a joke loud enough in hopes that other people hear it and laugh? Embarrassingly enough for me, that is my father.  

My father has gathered quite a fan base.  Seriously, you can become a fan of him on Facebook.  But, then again, you can become a fan of almost anything nowadays.  Polly has told me countless times about Ramblin' Jack being in awe of how Papa Gangsta Pete mercilessly took down Baby Dol (she's only 5) with words at Thanksgiving dinner.  Luckily for Baby Dol, she has Skipper for an uncle and therefore understands that when any adult figure who tell her that her "parents don't really love her" and that they "purely keep her around for a tax deduction" it's all lies.  

In all seriousness, Papa Gangsta Pete makes a great husband.  He and my mother have shared 22 years of "marital bliss" and it's obvious that my mother wears the pants in the relationship.  My sister, mother, and I are his weakness.  He'd go to end of the world for us.  He's told me that the only way he'd be disappointed in me is if I didn't give him grandchildren.  I told him that I could get right on that for him.  He could have killed me with the look he gave me.  

Papa Gangsta Pete is an excellent cook and turns into a Bobby Flay in the kitchen.  He gets excited about trying out new recipes and uses my sister and I as tasters.  But, he always says one thing before he cooks us dinner:     

"Don't think that I'm giving you dinner because I love you.  I'm required by state law to feed, clothe, and put a roof over your head.  This is not an act of love."

I'm sure, Daddy, I'm sure.....

Pandora's Best Friend is Hot

 

Being the Facebook whore I am, I naturally had to post pictures of my Disneyland trip I made for my birthday with my best friend, her brother, and her brother's roommate.  Shortly after I posted the pictures, my good friend down south (lets call him Indo because he's Indonesian and keeps promising me that he'll take me to Bali) texted me saying "Yo, Pandora.  Your best friend, Beauty, she's hot!"

Cue the eye roll.  

People, I know my best friend is hot (actually I'm only friends with attractive people) so please don't keep telling me.  But yes, Beauty is smokin'.  My 4 best friends are all gorgeous in their own ways, but she fits the stereotype of the girl all guys want to--excuse me--bang.   

Now Beauty and I have been best friends since her birth (she is a year younger than me) and our fathers have been best friends for over 30 years.  We were attached at the hip.  We never went to the same school until high school though.  She went to a small private Christian school until 8th grade and I rocked the public school education for all 13 years.  Now, she was nervous about finally going to a public school.  She told me that she wanted to be popular and popular she did become.

Beauty always had a boyfriend and was in that group of the so called "popular kids."  It always blew people's minds when I told them she was my best friend (It wasn't like I was uncool because I was well liked by everyone.  It just took people a bit longer to notice me).  

I couldn't stand her high school boyfriend.  The boy matched better than I did and drove a car that was worth more than 4 of my friends cars combined.  This one time she invited him on our annual camp trip, but didn't tell me he was coming until we were pulling out of the driveway.  

"But you wouldn't have come if he did!"

Right she was.

Living vicariously through Beauty was much easier than being her accomplice.  I, for one, would much rather hear how she got stuck in a crack house in the ghetto of Sacramento or drunk-tanked at a Pepper concert in San Francisco than actually partake in it.

"I made friends with these girls on the BART that had a handle of vodka"

Of course you did, darling.

I graduated and left Beauty behind.  Of course we still talked every other day, but one conversation we had in the middle of the semester stood out.  

"Pandora, these girls are whores and bitches.  How have I always been friends with them?"

No shit, Beauty, why do you think I never hung out with you on campus?

Long story short, Beauty realized that her "popular" friends were some of the fakest people she have ever encountered.  Beauty broke down and finally told me how she admired how I never had drama and how I managed to keep such chill friends.  She and I have reached the conclusion that we're always going to be there for each other.  

She'll be the one throwing me the killer bachelorette party and standing by my side at my wedding.  She'll be godmother to my children.  She'll be the one I take spontaneous cross country road trips with.  

Beauty graduated and is attending a junior college near Newport Beach.  Yeah, I know, some of the fakest people in the world probably reside there, but Beauty loves it.  She's truly a city girl at heart and the lights of LA just call her name.  We still talk almost every other day and we make trips to visit each other.

I just told my guy friends that Beauty is going to come down and visit me next month.  Pretty sure the last time I saw a grin that devious was on the 6-year-old I babysit for.

Just the other day I asked her what she was doing for New Years.

"Oh my god, I'm going to this rave in downtown Los Angeles and David Guetta is going to be preforming!"

Of course you are.        

Even though we're both getting older, some things never change.