Squirrel Thoughts

My mom recently called to tell me my picture was in my hometown newspaper, the Helena Independent Record (for all of your sakes, I hope the headline “Flight from Helena diverted because of passenger who said he’s an alien” is still the Breaking News alert when you click on the link.)

“Your picture is in the paper!” she exclaimed.

“I didn’t steal that Yugo! I was framed!” I replied.

“WHAT?!?”

“Nothing…” (despite giving birth to and knowing me for a quarter-century, my mom rarely understands my sarcasm.)

(Also, that part of the conversation didn’t actually happen, as I just now thought of that reply, because I usually think of witty replies/comebacks several days or weeks after I need them. I know that’s how it would have gone though.)

(And I only admit to this because, as someone in the running for No. 1 Squirrel Thoughts Fan/Most Frequent Squirrel Thoughts Commentor, I know my mom would’ve blown my cover in the comments section.)

(The rest of this post is factually accurate. I swear.)

“Umm, why was my picture in the paper?”

She went on to describe this:

Photos of the people who actually won were unavailable.

And before you ask, yes, I was in high school when that photo was taken, despite looking approximately 9-years-old in it. And, if you look reallyreally close, it’s also quite evident I’d recently lost a tooth. In high school. (I was a late bloomer as far as teeth are concerned, and when everyone else was losing their last teeth at 8 years old, I was just losing my first, and didn’t lose my last until high school, andit’skindofasensitivesubjectsojustBACKOFF!)

Then, a few days later, she sent me the link to this, a letter to the editor submitted by my dad (who, BTW, never goes by “William M. Squires” in real life, just in his curmugeonly-letter-to-the-editor life), a passionate reply to an apparent rash of letters complaining about Helena not being biker-friendly enough.

In case you couldn’t tell from the letter, my dad is an avid bicycler and will go to the ends of the earth to ride his bike everywhere/defend his decision to ride his bike everywhere even if it’s snowing/40 below zero/hailing kumquat-sized iceballs. As in, the following Calvin and Hobbes comic mirrors my childhood:

A typical blizzardy, subzero day at the Squires household.

All that stuff he describes in the letter? Yeah, he really does/has been doing that for basically all my life. And, much to the chagrin of my circa 1997-2003, desperately-clinging-to-normality self (I know — who was I kidding?), he does so while wearing Spandex.

I’m starting to seem a lot less weird now, aren’t I? (That last statement would be completely true if I hadn’t taken up running in Spandex as of late. Or if I hadn’t done any of the other things I’ve done in my life, ever. Hey, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my dad, it’s to quit resisting already and embrace my true self, even if that self is really, really random and weird. Hence: this blog.)

Anyway, I digress. I totally had a point when I started writing this, and it is this: the Spandex-clad Squires Family is taking over – first the Helena IR, then the world. Don’t pretend like you’re not scared.

Today, I received the following text message from Zach:

“In torts, we were talking about a woman who suffered toxic shock syndrome from leaving her tampon in too long and if she could sue the manufacturer for failure to warn about that danger, and I said, ‘Well, when you buy tampons, you should know there are going to be strings attached.’ And everyone laughed really hard and said it was the best joke of the year.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the future of the American legal system. I sincerely hope none of you ever needs a lawyer.

When Zach started law school last fall, we went down to the Iron Horse one evening for a “meet and greet” of sorts. I happened to recognize one of his classmate’s names from the local weekly he wrote for before he started school, and I’d also heard a lot about him because he was my co-worker’s neighbor/friend.

Wanna be my fwiend!?!? Pease!!!!

So, when Zach introduced me to him, instead of saying something normal, like “Hi, nice to meet you,” I proceeded to spew off the facts I’d acquired. The convo went something like this (names have been changed to protect the innocent parties involved):

“Hi, I’m Allison, Zach’s girlfriend.” Hand-shaking commences.

“Hi, I’m Jordan. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh yeah, you’re Jordan Freeman!”

“Yeah…” Withdraws hand.

“You used to write for the Independent!”

“Yeah, I did … ” Begins to eye me suspiciously.

“And you live next to Brenda! She’s my co-worker.”

“Uhh, yeahh, I do.” Starts to slowly back away when he realizes I know his last name, his most recent employer and where he lives despite having met him approximately nine seconds ago.

To hear Zach describe it, “you could see the look on his face grow more and more concerned with each new revelation.” Despite this, I just kept plunging ahead.

And this, my friends, is how you Squire someone.

I realized soon after how awkward I was and how uncomfortable I must have made this poor guy feel, but it was much, much too late. I had effectively freaked him out. I learned my lesson and it hasn’t happened since, but Zach still likes to make fun of me for it and call doing such a thing to someone “Squiring.”

Now, the term has resurfaced in the Squires-Franz household, after we attended another law school function last week (um, yeah, that’s apparently all I do now), and Zach introduced me to a different classmate. And you wanna know what happened next? He Squired me!!

“Hi, I’m Allison.”

“Hi, I’m Fred. You look familiar.”

“I do?”

“Oh yeah, you’re Allison Squires!”

“Yeah!”

“You used to work for the Kaimin!”

“Yeah!”

“You know Mary Lou Smith! She’s one of my good friends!”

“Yeah!”

Squ-IRED!

(You may notice my reaction was not nearly as freaked out as the guy I Squired. This is because I’m used to dealing with such awkwardness in everyday life, so it really doesn’t faze me when others let it slip.)

So, there are two things you can take away from my post on these experiences: a) There’s a new verb out there — “to Squire” — and you should use it every chance you get so it catches on; and 2) If you want to make friends and have people think you’re at least somewhat normal, never, EVER do the aforementioned verb to them. Just don’t.

Well, not really (really!). But I was part of a published April Fools’ Day joke, pictured below. I bet you can figure out my role in these hijinks…

I was hoping they’d use my real name, but whatevs…