November 16, 2004

The Birth of KIMMI

Today we are getting in the way back machine with that DOG? Remember that cartoon dog with the glasses? If not? You are probably too young to read this entry. *grin*

A long, long time ago, when dinosaurs roamed the earth and I was very irresponsible and had a gross-average metal illness number of MUCH-HIGHER-THAN-NOW, some fool put a stamp on a piece of paper, thereby allocating for my use a giant pile of theoretical money and throwing wide the doors of academia.

I never SAW the vast bulk of this money, you understand, but mysteriously my tuition and housing was paid and the dining hall waved me past the register when I appeared with a tray full of Random Casserole. I did see some of it--- on the first of every month, exactly enough cash to keep up with my monthly tequila intake appeared in my checking account.

I had two close friends in grad school. A wilder-than-me friend and a designated driver friend. DIGRESSION: If any of the parents of the three of us are reading this? Assume YOUR kid was the designated driver. She probably was. Unless you are MY parents, in which case, ignore that funny MONTHLY TEQUILA NEEDS joke (Ha! Ha!) and assume *I* was the designated driver.

Late in the night, after the clubs closed (NOT THAT WE WENT TO CLUBS, OH THEORETICAL READING PARENTS, JUST AT AROUND THAT TIME,YOU UNDERSTAND), Designated Driver and I would crouch in front of her computer monitor surfing for these new fangled amazing things called CHAT ROOMS. We were like cavemen who had just discovered FIRE. Oooooh! Ahhhh! I’d be drinking Liquid Yorkies (I know it sounds like a Small Dog Frappe, but really it is Peppermint Schnapps in chocolate milk, and no, I am not kidding. Drank that. Called it that.)

Remember, this was WELL BEFORE the dawn of time, and as we discovered this new and untamed virtual world, we came to an inescapable conclusion: We were THE ONLY REAL GIRLS ON THE INTERNET.

90% of everyone else fell into one of two categories:
A) Guys trying to find REAL GIRLS who were willing to go into private chat rooms with them
B) OTHER guys pretending to be girls who were willing to go into private chat rooms with Type A guys.

That was it. Guys on the make. Guys pretending to be girls on the make. And us. Real, live, actual girls, 50% of whom were blasted out of their MINDS, and 100% of whom had ZERO interest in going into a private chat.

Since walking into a chat room with a name that even SUGGESTED female-ness meant being instantly swarmed by Guy Type A and snipped at and attacked by Guy Type B, and since I was generally WAY WAY less than sober, (HA! HA!) we started creating FAKE PEOPLE to go into internet chat rooms, and thus the games began. DD and I were unmarried and childless at that time, and therefore more nocturnal than your average Opossum. We’d be in chat rooms from 2 to 5, easily.

My favorite creation for a LONG time was probably KIMMI. I Loved being KIMMI. KIMMI’s modus operandi was to have an obviously female name ---and a C cup sounding name at that--- and to be WAY TOO STUPID to understand or respond coherently to even the MOST BLATANT INVITATION into a private chat.

Tune in tomorrow for the first installment of VICIOUS CRUELTY WEEK
aka Tales From the KIMMI Files.

Posted by joshilyn at November 16, 2004 10:02 AM
Comments

I can hardly wait! Even if you did used to drink Small Dog Frappes.

Posted by: Mir at November 16, 2004 12:54 PM

Actually, I DO remember that dog with the glasses, and the little boy, too. *sighing wistfully* Nevertheless, I'm chompin' at the bit to hear what KIMMI and her designated rememberer get into. Um...I might have to try that Yorkie thing. Sounds like a winter time drink to me. *hic*

Posted by: David at November 16, 2004 6:51 PM

Apparantly I am too young for this entry. I have no frickin' idea what dog you are talking about. Since I like anything that makes me seem younger than I am, today I am liking you very much. Which, frankly, is nothing new! :)

Posted by: Amy at November 16, 2004 9:53 PM