"I never
realized how much I loved being home unless I'd been somewhere really different
for a while." - Juno
Good morning/afternoon/evening/whatever hour of the day I am
finding you. Once again, I am drawing my inspiration among the happy folk of
Southwest Airlines, on my merry way to the West Coast. Please excuse any
brashness of sorts, as my veins have not been yet blessed with the divine power
of caffeine.
This past week was spent frolicking about my hometown of
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I have to admit I am selfishly proud to call this
great city home, but not for the typical reasons one may assess the ‘burgh
with.
Yes, we are all vividly aware of the almost cultic following
of Pittsburgh sports teams, as they have been known in years past to crush the
national competition (let’s not focus on the now, people, I am remembering the
good times of yore). Even with this obsessive pride that seemed to be ingrained
into our brains as children, I sadly never fully embraced the sports allure.
However, I will shamelessly admit that more often than not, I will lie and say
that I “bleed black and yellow,” just to appease the masses.
No, dear old sports fans, I could not for the life of me carry
a conversation with you about the Steeler’s new running back (is he even new?)
or reminisce over the Pirate’s 7th inning stretch (dear lord I hope
these apply here). But please know that I have always wanted to, and perhaps
one day will buckle down and finally learn what a Power Play is.
What drives my Pittsburgh pride are the connections I have
made with the people I have met, naturally. If you haven’t already guessed at
this point, I am deeply moved by the individuals that come into my life, so this
post will be no different in terms of putting into words the immense
appreciation I have for those special people.
Where to even begin? Alright, I think it’s best to go
chronologically over the course of the week. I arrived to my Pittsburgh abode
in the late hours this past Friday evening. The very first thing I noticed
walking up the pathway to my door was a big, fat “For Sale” sign posted in the
front yard. This shouldn’t have shocked me, but alas, I suppose the idea that
my childhood home was being pawned off to the highest bidder hadn’t come into
fruition until that moment. So, with a sense of nostalgic longing, I walked
into my house and promptly passed out on a bed in my father’s room, not
entirely pleased with the fact that my old bedroom was unrecognizable, and more
closely resembled a storage facility.
The first half of my day was to be spent with my Orlando
friend, Bethany, who was by some splendid stroke of fate visiting the Steel City
for the weekend.
A little backstory to Bethany and me. Technically, we
officially met in 2010, when we were both participants of the Disney College
Program, a unique internship where lost souls congregated together to work
front line roles at Walt Disney World. Every breed of human from every walk of
life could be found among the College Program participants, some could not be
more different from one another. However, we all had one commonality: our
mildly disturbing obsession with Disney. It was one of the most incredible and
hectic experiences I endured, and I highly recommend it.
Anyway, one fateful night, I found myself in Bethany’s
apartment during a mutual friend’s birthday celebration. All I really remember
from this evening was that tacos were involved, and the people were nice, but
at this point in time, Bethany and I merely acquainted each other over shredded
lettuce and cheddar cheese. The evening sunk into a deep chasm of my memory,
and was not thought of again until 2013, during the first week of my
Professional Internship with Disney Housing, where fate decided to step in and
bring us together once more. There were four of us interns, and at the start,
Bethany was not one of them. During the first week, one of the girls was
offered a promotional internship, and in a matter of days, a replacement was
found. Her name was Bethany. After an extensive amount of cyber stalking was
completed, I decided that this girl needed to be my friend. In a preemptive
attempt to accomplish this task, I bought her a flower-shaped sugar cookie from
Panera to greet her arrival. Now, usually people refuse gifts, especially food,
when first trying to make a good impression, especially in a business setting.
Not this girl. Bethany had absolutely no problem with taking a massive bite of
that cookie in earnest gratitude. The best part of this, after about 15 minutes
rolled by and there was still half of the cookie left, I had absolutely no
problem asking her, “Are you gonna eat the rest?” And without hesitation,
Bethany allowed my fat selfish ass to eat half of her cookie present. So began
our beautiful friendship
So, in order for people to fully grasp just how much of a
freak Bethany and I are together, I need to share possibly the most
embarrassing story of my life… Here goes.
One day, the four Housing Interns were tasked to work
outside in the sweltering heat to load/unload our lovely box truck. This was
daily life at Housing, and each day was either torture or bliss. Before we go
further, it must be stated that the four Housing Interns each embodied a
certain personality trait, which will help with understanding this story. There
was Jersey Girl, Care Bear, The Cheerleader (Bethany), and The Boy Intern (me,
but hopefully that was obvious). The four of us were huddled in our office,
which was complete with four desks and one communal bathroom that we shared
with our coordinator and manager. Once we were summoned to the glorious loading/unloading
of the box truck, the girls made their way outside, but I trailed behind to use
the facilities. So, apparently dear old Robby forgot one significant detail,
and left the restroom door unlocked. As I was finishing my business and just
about to pull up my shorts, my lovely manager waltzed right into that restroom,
unaware of its occupancy, and caught me in a full frontal exposure of my
gentlemanly parts.
Let the trauma of this moment be a lesson to you all:
Always. Lock. The. Door.
She stood there for a fraction of a millisecond, a look of
sheer horror upon her face, turned around quickly, and dashed from the scene. I,
frozen in that spot, pondering the exact moment on when I was to be terminated
for flashing my boss, slowly formulated my next steps, which were to wash up
and get the hell out of that office. I reunited with the girls outside, and
immediately they could tell something was wrong from my ghostlike visage. When
asked what happened, all I could muster, in a deep harrowing voice, was:
“She saw my dick.”
The reactions that followed were like clockwork:
Care Bear: (long high
pitched gasp) “Ohhhhhhhhhhh noooooo!”
Jersey Girl: (through
exasperated giggles) “Oh you are SO fired!”
Bethany: (without
hesitation, complete with hand motions): “Did you swing it around for her?”
That right there, ladies and gentlemen, perfectly sums up my
love and admiration for dear Bethany.
So, needless to say, I was excited to have this gem in my
life just a bit longer while in Pittsburgh. We spent that Friday afternoon
together with some of her friends from college, and explored some of the more
touristy attractions that Pittsburgh has to offer. I was excited to be present
for her first experience on the Pittsburgh Incline, an archaic railway car that
transports you from Station Square to the idyllic views atop Mt. Washington. While
there we laughed, we reminisced and we drank a bit (typical day in terms of our
relationship) before parting ways for the evening. Later that weekend, by means
of strange audible noises and tightly-squeezed hugs, we said our goodbyes. I am
happy both of us aren’t very good at saying farewell, because it helped hold off
the tears for a more private moment.
View from Mt. Washington, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Now, it’s about enough time talking about Orlando kinships,
back to Pittsburgh.
The bulk of that first weekend was spent with my two soul
sisters, Ashley and Kendra.
Let’s start with Kendra. She is the smartest human I know. I
don’t just mean book smarts, of which she obviously is a master of, but I mean
smart in the way that she understands things quicker and has a more leveled and
well thought-out comprehension of every aspect of life than I could ever even
try to grasp. The girl just gets it. And she isn’t pretentious about it, which
is a rare combination. She sees past the opaque and fully accepts the gray in
between of things. This constantly comes in handy to have her as a best friend,
because she blindly supports whatever crazy new life decision I make, even when
I don’t fully support it myself.
To Kendra: Thank you for your unwavering support and
constant reassurance that what I am doing is worthwhile, no matter how fraught
with terrorizing mystery.
Now, let’s talk about Ashley. She is the most loving human I
know. She values family and friendship above all, and she never hesitated
taking me in and opening up her world to me in times of need. When I think of
Ashley, I think of shelter. Whenever I am being battered with the trials of life,
all it takes is one conversation with her to know that everything is going to
be ok. This girl has seen some true poverty and strife in the world, and yet
she never belittles any pain I may be going through, no matter how trivial it
seems later. Her fierce loyalty is almost intimidating at times, and it
constantly challenges me to be better.
To Ashley: Thank you for never being afraid to state your
mind. You have helped me understand what courage it takes to be a true friend,
and I am forever grateful for your heart and how you have touched mine.
The three of us have been best friends for almost nine years
now, and what an adventure it has been.
Over the course of the week, I was able to reunite with my
three college roommates, Mitchell, Allison and Matt. Every reunion culminates
the same way: A myriad of laughter mixed with ridiculously loud and off-pitch
singing of our favorite YouTube videos, and the occasional reminiscing of our favorite
episodes from Bones, which was less a TV show and more the prime choice of
college procrastination in our house. I am incredibly happy that I am able to
stay connected with these hilarious people, who are all working toward such
wonderful paths of life. I am immensely proud of the three of them.
A trip home to Pittsburgh would not be complete without
spending some quality time with my other close-knit friend group, “The Gay, The
Dick, The Sweetheart, and the Skank.”
Obviously we can guess who The Gay is, but the other
personalities are owned by three beautiful people: Sciullo (The Dick), Taylor
(The Sweetheart) and Emily (The Skank).
Disclaimer #1: Sciullo (pronounced shill-oh, and whose first name is Michael, but always went by his
surname) isn’t actually a dick, he has an enormous heart and is actually one of
the most chivalrous men I know. He just seemed to always say dick-like things
growing up.
Disclaimer #2: Emily isn’t actually a skank. She just always
had the BEST sex stories.
Disclaimer #3: Taylor actually is, and always will be, the
sweetest heart I know.
It is bittersweet with this friend group because Taylor has
pursued her dreams and is now happily married and lives in Mississippi with her
Southern Gentleman, and although I am incredibly happy for her, I selfishly
want her to be as lost as I am and still living in Pittsburgh. However, I still
have the utmost pleasure of enjoying the presence of Sciullo and Emily, who are
just a fucking hoot to be around. Every reunion is packed with gut-splitting
laughter and the constant inability to tell a story from start to finish. We
could (and at one time seriously contemplated) fill a book with the amount of
inside jokes we had between the four of us. The unhinged ridiculous friendship
we have together is something to truly marvel at, especially since it hasn’t changed
since the day we met.
I hope they know how much I love them.
I even got the chance to see my college music school friend,
Anne, play at a local bar as a PROFESSIONAL musician! I’m telling you, this
week was going swimmingly so far!
This trip home was unique, however. So, remember when I mentioned
my house and it being my childhood home? That’s not entirely true. From age
2-14 I lived in a humble little neighborhood which was full of life. Our house
shared a backyard with our neighbors who had a daughter the same age as me. Her
name was Erica. Every memory of my young childhood has Erica in it. Every
single one. It was as though my goal in life was to spend time with her. We
were inseparable. It wasn’t always just the two of us, though. Another neighbor’s
daughter, Carly, who was a year older, seemed to fit like a puzzle piece in our
little possey. This sounds a bit “Mean Girls”-esque, but we ran that block. It
was up to us (really more up to our parents, but we liked to take the credit)
if there would be a neighborhood gathering of any sort. Summer nights were full
of made up games, movie nights in the yard, and the annual block party, among
countless other moments of pure innocent bliss. Over the years the group grew
as we met more people, and that’s when Leah and Claire came into the picture.
Leah, my first EVER girlfriend (yes, I had girlfriends growing up. Quite a few
actually, I was a mini-playa), was this little spitfire of joy. Claire and I
became very close in high school, we bonded over a mutual love of Olive Garden
breadsticks and cartoons. I have so many happy memories with each of those
girls.
Life, unfortunately, got in the way, and in the middle of
high school my family moved to another part of town, and I slowly became more
detached from this group. It was a sad moment, and I wish I had some excuse as
to why it happened, but the truth of the matter is that I just became lazy.
Years passed, high school ended, college started and flew right on by, and
still no effort. It seemed to look like this fringed past of mine would fray
and eventually dissipate for good, was it not for the interesting moment when
my dad told me he had reconnected with Erica’s mother over the past few months.
This fact surprised me, but more it intrigued me. Maybe there could be a glimpse
of some rekindling of friendship within those fleeting moments of youth.
Erica and I reconnected via text, and we decided to find
time to meet. To say I was nervous would’ve been a serious understatement.
Would I recognize her? Would she recognize me? Will she think I’m weird? Will I
think she’s weird? These scenarios were swimming back and forth in the car ride
to the local eatery for our fateful reunion. I had no preconceived notion on
how this lunch would coalesce. I was going in blind.
Shame on me for losing touch with Erica. Shame on me.
It was one of the most rewarding moments. I can’t even put
into words how great it felt to be around Erica, and her mom even came too!
This was such a beautiful interlude, complete with reminiscing about our
adorable childhood antics together. I was so proud to see how far she had come
since the last time I saw her. She has grown into a successful, happy, gorgeous
and independent woman, and I just could kick myself for losing those years
between us.
Later in the week I had the chance to see the rest of the
girls. Wow. It’s incredible how people can grow and mold into someone new, and
yet still connect the way we used to as kids.
I am so thankful for that moment, and truly cannot wait for more
once I return from my adventures.
So, in good Pittsburgh tradition, I ended my time at home
with a late night excursion to Eat n’ Park, a local diner that served bad
coffee, good pie and great conversations. Ashley, Kendra and I have come there
for as long as I could remember. We have laughed there, we have cried there, we
probably even fought there at one point. Basically, we were notorious for being
the worst customers you could hope for; we would order a coffee and a slice of
pie each, and sit for approximately 3-4 hours. Our bill typically totals to
about $10. A server’s dream right there. Alas, it has been our safe haven for
many years, and I couldn’t leave Pittsburgh without a slice of peachberry pie,
heated up, a la mode.
It’s in these final moments with the people you love that
you get the chance to look back and appreciate what has been given to you. It
is still sometimes hard to fathom the amount of people who have influenced me
so greatly in my short life. Here I was, 24, and I had an army of love standing
behind me. From those old souls rooted from childhood, to the new bright
spirits I have learned to cherish during my time on earth, every single one of
you have found a special place in my heart.
To those who have endured this novel, I do really thank you
for taking the time to read a bit about my childhood and those that found a
special place in my life. I think it’s important to tell people how much you care
about them, and this was my way of doing so.
So, with my tired, now overly caffeinated body about to
board my next plane to Los Angeles, I take my happy leave from you this
morning/afternoon/evening/whatever hour of the day I’m finding you.
Until next time, my friends.
-Robby
