how we met, volume 1 - kristen larson


For the good of the permanent public record, and expose the unreliability of human memories that aren't mine, I will be presenting a series of "How We Met" tales about various prominent figures in my life. First up in this series is Miss Kristen Larson.

Though Ms. Larson and I grew up just one street away from one another in Pleasant Hill, and though I'd even been inside her house once - I think Ian Macdonald was feeding her dog Roxie for a weekend or something - our paths did not cross until seventh grade, my first year at Valley View Middle School. I was a recent refugee from Sequoia Middle School, preoccupied with my burgeoning musical theater career and my inability to peg my pants. My voice had not yet changed (hence, I could still use "career" and "music" together in a sentence without having to make finger quotes in the air, or endure derisive snorts from the general public) and I stood an impressive 4'10". Kristen was pretty much the same height she is now.

It was probably late October when Kristen finally spoke to me. She had seen me, or thought she'd seen me, in a production of "Mame" at the RCA in Walnut Creek. I played a newsboy, a Southern fox hunt-type boy, and, in the play's final scene, a little boy named Peter. I wore a turban, did a salaam, and got to say, "Life's a banquet, and most poor sons of bitches are starving to death!" (Note: Even at age 12, this didn't feel like swearing) This was the pinnacle of my performing career to date, surpassing my dual role as Simpleton and a shoe-making elf in "I Believe in Make-Believe." Kristen was duly impressed.

She stopped me as I was leaving Ms. Irwin's science class.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked. Given that she was nearly a foot taller than me, and could have squashed me like a bug, and I had no friends, I acquiesced to her request.

She began to speak in what I later knew as Classic Kristen style, like a beta version of the constantly-flirtatious low purr that she currently brandishes.

"I went out with my parents this weekend, and we saw a very good play called 'Mame'..."

"I was in that!" I blurted out.

Kristen paused. She furrowed her brow. Her look said, "Really? You were in it? What a weird coincidence that I would talk to you for the first time, ever, about a play I saw with my parents that had nothing at all to do with you." Maybe it didn't say that out loud, but it said it in the important place, my own mind.

She took a deep breath and continued. "Yes. Yes you were. Anyway, I wanted to tell you I thought it was very good."

Or something like that. I was hyperventilating pretty bad by then. Very nearly sweating through my "Bart Simspon: Underachiever And Proud Of It" t-shirt.

I muttered a thank you, and then we both stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. Then I walked away.

And we've been friends ever since!


i believe i first met kristen when she came to visit michele at college our sophomore year. she agreed to tag along to a meeting where we all had to sit around in the lawn behind Langlow house, and i remember thinking i'd never seen someone sit so properly in grass before. later we all ended up sitting on the kitchen floor making piggy faces and i thought she was maybe not so proper after all. thank goodness! =)

i love when kristen makes piggy faces.

i love this series. i hope it never dies and lives long.

i first met kristen in 6th grade in math class. the math class where eventually some student hit his head on the edge of a desk and bled all over the place. and i can't remember if that was because of a fight or him attacking the teacher or what. but that's where i met her. terri nocco, kristen, and myself sat in a little triangle grouping of seats and gave each other silly cat nicknames and became friends. and then kristen invited me to her house which was wierd because i hadn't known her that long and i usually didn't go to people's houses unless i'd known them several years. and she introduced me to the myth books and to fantasy general and to writing my own stuff. and this is what i will remember most. sitting uncomfortably at kristen's house for the first time, picking up the myth book, and having my life changed.

I first met Kristen on my first day in Tacoma, starting college. I saw her only briefly, and thought that she was actually Nuala, and Asian. So after that I thought Nuala was Asian. Until I met her too, which is a WHOLE other story!

nuala's not asian??

I met her in the 'Nam. Oh, the crazy hijinks we would get up to. Impersonating officers, drinking on the job, running Charlie's underwear up the flagpole in the middle of the night. Good times.

terror of bengali.

since i don't remember when i first met kristen, said date predating my ability to conceive of the calendar year or of myself as separate from other human beings, i think it's safe to say that kristen was a suspicion i had in the womb, and i wrinkled up my little proto-nose and sneezed, being allergic to water, and she is the assumption on which i base most of my findings.

I just remember the little curly hair from Kindergarden. Man those were good days. Now if I could just find that picture of Kristen at 5 in my backyard with said curly hair. Oh the joys.

don't do it. or i will bust out the one of you with the little gap in your teeth.

actually that one is pretty darn precious.

ha! both of those are actually pretty precious. though i am pretty darn partial to the gap-toothed one.

sean, seriously this was a brilliant idea. and i cannot wait for you to do more of them.

re-reading all the links in your most recent post about your mom's knee, i came to this one. at which point i paused and said, what the fuck? you only ever did kristen and dustin. you have lots more friends than that and these are hella funny. so you should do more. that is my piece, and i have spoken it. again. (reference previous comment.)

yes, sean. do tell the story of how i sat there tearing apart something you'd written for the squelch right in front of you, not knowing you were the author.

actually, i guess that's pretty much the story. badabing.

February 2012
Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat
      1 2 3 4
5 6 7 8 9 10 11
12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25
26 27 28 29      

About This Site

Sean Keane on Tumblr

Sean Keane Comedy Dot Com
Short posts, better name-branding

Backup Blog

Friends and Associates

San Francisco Comedy

Fine Sporting Websites

Local Bands


Sean Keane's Internet Famousness

About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Sean Keane published on December 29, 2002 9:37 PM.

warren g, you useless, useless bastard was the previous entry in this blog.

we get letters, december 2002 edition is the next entry in this blog.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.

Powered by Movable Type 5.04