10 Reasons I don't have Asperger's

I recently watched the move Adam with my sister. The title character is a young man afflicted with Asperger Syndrome. After the movie my sister kept calling me Adam. A few days later a couple of my other sisters viewed the movie. Then on separate occasions they each referred to me as Adam. In college two of my roommates took a course on Autism. After one particular lecture they excitedly came home and diagnosed me with Asperger's. In order to help me manage/overcome my disorder they said they would issue me a card and each time I asked a question relevant to a conversation I would get a stamp; once I had filled up my card with stamps I would get a prize. I'm still waiting for my prize. Anyway, for some reason everyone likes diagnosing me with this disorder, so I did some Wikipedia research and found characteristics of the disorder that don't apply to me:

1. Characteristic of Disorder: Failure to develop friendships
   Explanation: okay, so I'm not good at making friends, but failure indicates, well TOTAL FAILURE, as in no friends ever. I have a few, according to facebook I have 150!
2. Characteristic of Disorder: Lack of eye-contact and facial expression
   Explanation: I kick ass at eye-contact! I'm so good at it that I freak people out by over-contacting their eyes. Also I've been told that I have some pretty killer facial expressions. In fact, since I'm not a big fan of verbal exchanges I've developed the ability to carry on ENTIRE conversations with facial expressions alone.
3. Characteristic of Disorder: Awkward, but not withdrawn (will approach others)
   Explanation: Yes I'm awkward, however, I would also consider myself withdrawn -- no way in hell am I gonna randomly approach peeps I don't know and try to start a conversation!
4. Characteristic of Disorder: One-sided, long-winded speech without noticing others' disinterest
   Explanation: So when it comes to some things (i.e. wine and Jenny Lewis) I can talk forever, however, I know that no one else cares, I just talk about it anyway.
5. Characteristic of Disorder: restricted/repetitive routines                                                      Explanation: While I do like routine, I am not totally bound by it. For example, tonight I'm drinking Corona, last night I had hefeweizen, and the night before that I drank wine...would a person with Asperger's be able to handle such diversity? I think not.
6. Characteristic of Disorder: specific/narrow/unusual areas of interest
   Explanation: JL is probably my only unusual area of interest, plus I like other things...I'll let you know when I think of them.
7. Characteristic of Disorder: Atypical use of language/literal interpretations/difficulty with sarcasm
   Explanation: I guess I use language atypically in that I use it correctly, while unfortunately most folks today don't. As far as difficulty with sarcasm, I have difficulty not being sarcastic...I'm pretty sure that's not what they're referring to.
8. Characteristic of Disorder: weakness in irony/humor/teasing                                           Explanation: I like funny
9. Characteristic of Disorder: Marked verbosity
   Explanation: I rarely speak. Unless of course I'm drunk, but that doesn't count.
10. Characteristic of Disorder: Advanced abilities/"gifted" in a certain area
    Explanation: I have little, if any, talent.

Star Struck (Part 3)

Our third and final meeting occurred under different conditions.  This time it was in Washington DC after a Jenny Lewis concert. I was living in New York at the time, and though she was playing there just two days later and I would be attending that show, I couldn't possibly wait that long to see her. So I purchased tickets and forced my roommate to accompany on the four and a half hour bus ride into DC. Some poeple may think it a bit ridiculous to travel 5 hours on a China Town bus just to watch a lady sing for an hour, especially when she will be playing much closer in only a few days. In fact, this sentiment was expressed to me by several people. But this is Jenny Lewis we're talking about, so I grabbed a couple wine-filled water bottles and my reluctant roommate and hopped on the bus.

We arrived in DC around 4pm. The bus station happened to be right next-door to the synagogue where the show would be held so we headed over to see if a line had begun forming. There were no patrons in sight and the box office was not yet opened so we wandered around the city for a bit. My roommate wanted to explore, but I wanted to be sure to get a good seat so didn’t allow us to venture far. We returned to the venue at 4:30 and were informed that will call would not open until 6:45. To kill time we entered a nearby diner where I proceeded to consume one of my bottles of wine. Then we headed back to the venue about 6ish.  This time when we arrived there were the beginnings of a line, so we got in about 10 people back.  While there I consumed another half bottle of wine...a good buzz, feeling alright.  We finally entered the venue at 7, sat in the center of the second row, and enjoyed a FANTASTIC show. Once the band left the stage I fought my way to the front, begged for a set-list, and some how actually got one.

The show ended a little after 11 but our bus tickets back to New York were for the 1:30 bus.  My roommate, who for some reason hadn’t taken work off the next day and wanted to get home sooner rather than later, asked if we could swap our tickets for an earlier bus instead, the company obliged.  I, however, wanted to get my set-list signed so I encouraged my roommate to take the early bus but insisted that I would wait for the later one.  She was reluctant to leave me alone in a strange city, but being such a big fan, not to mention drunkenly stubborn, I eventually convinced her to go ahead without me.  She climbed on the bus while I waited outside the synagogue amongst the other hardcore fans hoping Jenny Lewis would shortly come greet us.

We had been waiting for about 20 minutes when a guy (I'm assuming her manager or something) came out and said, "Just to let you know I've been told that Jenny is not signing things tonight." A couple of people left after this news, but I and a few others decided to wait it out anyway. Sure enough, only 15 minutes later Jenny came out of the bus and walked right up to us.  Still drunkenly effusive I remarked, "that was an amazing show!" To which she graciously responded, "Aw, thanks.  It was fun. Thanks for coming." Then the girl standing next to me asked her to sign her set-list.  After signing it Jenny grabbed my set-list, signed it, and suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, you didn't even ask me to sign this! I just assumed…I'm sorry..." as though she had somehow ruined it. Surprised and amused by her humility, I awkwardly answered, "no, thanks...sorry for not asking...?" then she went on to sign stuff for other people, leaving me intoxicated by our encounter.  Contented, I shuffled into the bus station, where I sat smiling, staring at my signed set-list for the next hour until the bus came to take me back home.  

Star Struck (Part 2)

We met again just 3 weeks later. Again, it was at a LA music venue and a complete shock. This time I had gone to the Echo with some friends for a Maria Taylor/Whispertown2000 show. A couple of my sisters were attending as well but we drove in separate cars--the friends I was with are law-abiding citizens and my sisters had plans to smoke a few bowls before the show. I was a bit disappointed that I would be missing out, but as my grandmother says, everything happens for a reason.

When we arrived I found, to my great horror, that my name was not on the will-call list and the show was sold out. I was deeply upset and explained to the woman at the window that I had indeed purchased my tickets (months in advance no less) and could not understand why her list failed to say so. She was quite understanding, let me in, and told me to come see her when the rest of my party turned up so that they could get in as well (my sisters' tickets were also under my name).

About 15 minutes later I received a text message from my sisters announcing their arrival. I passed my beer to a friend for safe-keeping and carved a path through the crowd to the entry way. As we stood at the window remind the woman of our situation, who should walk in but Jenny Lewis and Johnathan Rice! I was facing the door and thus saw them enter, but my sisters' backs were to it. They saw only my eyes grow wide and my mouth open slightly leaving my face with a mark of disbelief. Confused they looked at me as I, speechless,  motioned with my head trying to get them to turn around. After what seemed like forever, they caught my drift and turned to the door. My older sister, who had just taken a natural anti-anxiety, said coolly "oh hey. I'm sure you don't remember me, but I met you guys a few weeks ago at the Bright Eyes show." For after my encounter, my sister too had to meet JL herself.

 “Oh yeah, I remember you.” Jenny lied. “How’s it going?” My sister pointed to us “these are my sisters.” I smiled, eyes still wide in shock and slowly shook my hand in front of me vaguely resembling a wave. Jenny looked us over and smiled “You’re all sisters? Wow. What’s the order?” Recovered a bit, I pointed to my older sister “her, then me, then her.” Jenny nodded then put her hand on my younger sister’s shoulder, “aw, so you’re the baby?” Here my sister informed her that there were in fact three younger ones at home. “More little ones?” Jenny asked slightly bending her knees and motioning down with her arm symbolizing smaller people. “Weavareallybigfamily!” I blurted out. Jenny turned to me and gave a slight smile while my sister gave me a what-the-hell-was-that look. Face flushed, I let them enter the main room first, then returned to my friends. Coincidentally, Jenny and Johnathan happened to be standing just behind them and remained there for most of the show. This made me both nervous and happy, and allowed me to claim that I hung out with them. My friends informed me that standing in front of someone, with whom you briefly and awkwardly exchanged only a few words does not constitute hanging out; I disagree.

Our House Go Up In Flames

I was home visiting for the summer when my parents decided to go to San Diego for the weekend to celebrate my dad’s birthday.  Now according to the movies I’ve seen this is the perfect opportunity to throw a raging high school party, but when you have 3 younger siblings left in your charge and live in a shithole, such cannot be done.  Also, my sister’s friend’s parents were out of town and he was already throwing a party that night.  We had been planning on attending his shin-dig and so were somewhat upset upon hearing that our parents would be leaving us with the responsibility of caring for their kids.  Our aunt, knowing the importance of underage drinking, offered to take the youngins off our hands for the evening.  They’d be sleeping at her house so we were free to get as wasted and stay out as late as we wanted.  Having just completed my first year of college I was now a seasoned drinker and intended to show these high school kids just how it’s done. So we shuttled the children to my aunts house, groomed ourselves to the party-appropriate level, and arrived at the gathering fashionably late.

Immediately I began consuming everything offered me. Thus I attained a sufficient state of inebriation and began talking way too much to anyone who would listen. During my mingling, my cousin decided to get into a fight with some guy about god knows what, because what’s a high school party without a good amount of drama? My sister, quite the drama queen herself, approached me in a huffy to inform me of recent events. She was dragging my cousin along with her, his hand dripping with blood. “We have to clean him up and take him home.” She informed me. “Okay,” I said, “but I can’t drive.” I had driven us to the party but immediately forgot my responsibilities upon the first sighting of booze. “I figured!” She answered totally bitchy. “I can drive.” I tried to argue, persuade her not to as I assumed everyone else was as drunk as I. She assured me that she only had one drink and was completely sober, so I gave up and followed her to the car. A few other friends/party guests piled in as well; I guess they wanted to see what would happen next. We arrived at my house, cleaned and bandaged my cousin’s hand, dropped him off at his place of residence, and then returned to the party.

A few hours later, about 3am, we decided it was time we called it a night. Again my sister drove. I sat in the front seat wearing a baseball cap (that I had stolen from some random guy as was my custom at that stage) backward on my head. As we turned into our cul-de- sac we noticed flashing lights and several fire engines. My sister turned to me “what should we do? It doesn’t look like they’re letting cars through.” I tried to focus on her, swaying in my drunkenness. “Its probably one of those damn old neighbors” I finally spit out. “Let’s go get some food and water and hopefully when we get back they’ll be gone.” So we drove-thru the closest fast food restaurant that was open and returned to our home street. Nothing had changed.

We sat there parked at the beginning of the cul-de-sac unsure what to do when a fireman approached us. “Hello, I’m Captain Morgan” he introduced himself. I couldn’t help but smile thinking of his contribution to my current state. “Do you live down here?” he asked. “Yes just a few houses down” I answered. He surveyed us, “which of you is older?” he asked. I raised my hand. He nodded toward my sister, “oh, then why is she driving?” Though I’m sure it was pretty obvious, I tried to answer anyway, “Er…well…she’s a better driver…?” I smiled. He looked us over one more time. “Any chance you guys have two dogs and a pool?” We nodded. “Yup that’s the house that caught on fire” he continued nonchalant. I looked to my sister and gasped, the size of her eyes mirrored mine. We asked him to repeat himself, hoping that we had misunderstood, but he only confirmed: there was a fire in our house. We informed him that our parent’s were out of town for the weekend, and though we were essentially “in charge” in their absence our younger sisters were staying with our aunt.

I was far too drunk to deal with this, and my sister far too emotional. So we left towards our aunt’s house, hoping that she would know what to do. We called her and relayed what we had just heard; she told us she’d be waiting for us to pick her up. Being both drunk and in shock, I don’t remember getting to her house or the drive back home. But when we returned to the scene of the blaze, there was quite the crowd gathered around. Not only had our neighbors awoken to see what the ruckus was about, but my sister had also informed her friends about what had happened and it seemed that the entire school had shown up to see the events unfold. The firefighters gave my aunt an account of the occurrence—it seemed to be an electrical fire that started in the bathroom. We had a wall heater at the time and apparently in the excitement of trying to repair my cousin’s hand someone had accidentally switched it on and not noticed, thus leaving it on after we had left the premises. As luck would have it, there happened to be a pile of towels near enough to the heater to catch flame. This of course would all be realized later; at the time all we knew was that our home had been destroyed because of a fire that seemed to have originated in the bathroom.

The fire-fighters allowed us to enter the house to get anything that we felt necessary—a couple turtles, fish, and a hamster that wouldn’t be able to endure the smoke that still lingered throughout the house. Upon entering I immediately felt sick. The combination of the alcohol I had consumed, the thick smoke that hung throughout the house, and the sight of what was once my home was almost too much too handle. I quickly grabbed what I could and ran out of the house gagging. My sister also couldn't spend much time inside and was standing on the lawn in tears. My aunt assured us that all would be well and we called our parents to inform them of the events as she drove us to her place to sleep.

When we awoke the next morning nearly the entire family was gathered at my aunt’s house discussing the events of the previous evening. My parents decided that it would be best to attempt to get a night’s sleep before driving back home, so they were not yet there. My younger sisters awoke confused, asking how their pets had come to arrive at my aunt’s house and why everyone else was there so early. Not knowing how to break the news, we evaded their questions and told them not to worry about it. My older sister who lived with my grandparents awoke in the morning to find a text message that my sister had sent at 3:30am saying “our house go up in flames call us.” As it was the beginning of July she assumed that we drunkenly had a pre-Independence Day firework show, and picked up the land-line to give us a ring. Upon putting the telephone to her ear she heard my grandfather shouting “what do you mean their house caught on fire?!”

Needless to say, my parents haven’t taken a trip since.

Year End Letter

Dearest Friends,

Its been a busy and exciting year in the Porter household. Our eldest three daughters continue to bring us pride and joy each day. First off, our 24 year old, beat down by the big city, came crawling home from New York in February. She remains unemployed, perched on our couch drunk. Boy, are we glad to have her back! Our third born (23) graduated college in June and currently waits tables at The Olive Garden. She too still lives at home, and in her spare time enjoys participating in the occasional bar brawl. Then August brought us the arrest of our oldest daughter (27). She is currently facing 2 felony charges. We look forward to the trial that awaits us in the New Year.

Our younger 3 daughters are doing just as great. The fourth born, ever the fan of marijuana has moved on to stronger substances and has even begun a career in sales. Rehab is just around the corner! Our 17 year old has been bouncing around between high schools, received several new body piercings, and she too has been dabbling in the world of drugs. The baby (15) has spent the past year keeping up with The OC, One Tree Hill, Gossip Girl, and The Hills among others. She aspires to become a Playboy Bunny.

Despite the menopausal mood swings, Mom continues to manage the household, all while struggling through math courses to complete her AA. Papa too continues to keep the house in order by providing both discipline and sound advice. As he says, "There is a fine line between respect and violence. If you want your kids to respect you, you gotta use violence."

We continue to receive daily greetings from banks and creditors. And just a few weeks ago, the roof collapsed in our kitchen during a rainstorm. This has forced us to remove the lovely maroon carpet and we expect to install a proper kitchen floor within the next five years!

It has been a wonderful year indeed, and we hope you all are doing as well as we.

Warm wishes for the holiday season,
The Porters

Star Struck (Part 1)

I like to think that I’m the sort of person who doesn’t get caught up in all the celebrity bullshit. I couldn’t care less who stole who’s husband, who doesn’t wear underwear, who’s sporting a “baby bump,” or whatever other crap is plastered on the covers of gossip magazines that solicit us in the checkout lines of grocery stores. I’ve sold wine to TV personalities without flipping my lid, I’ve spotted musicians at restaurants without feeling the need to fawn over them, and the time a certain drugged out Hollywood starlet said “hey” to me in a bar bathroom I nodded casually and walked out. Basically, I’m cool. But the fact of the matter is that I have been star struck 3 times in my life…all by the same person.

Our first encounter took place at a Bright Eyes show in March of 2007. I had been looking forward to the show for well over a month and had hopes of standing in the front row to watch Conor Oberst in all his glory. So imagine my disappointment when my sister's friend, from whom she was getting her ticket, didn't arrive until 8:30 (doors were at 7). Upon entering the packed El Rey any remaining hopes of a "good spot" were shattered, so I promptly headed to the bar to begin coping. Then we took up stance toward the back of the theater next to the aisle

As I was sipping on my beer casually listening to the opening band I noticed Michael Runion walk passed me down the aisle. Being aware of his affiliation with Rilo Kiley/Jenny Lewis I pointed him out to my sister and joked that Jenny Lewis herself may also be in attendance. My hopeful suspicions were then heightened upon sightings of some of her other associates: M. Ward, Johnathan Rice, and even Blake Sennett! Mr. Rice passed me and then stopped just a few feet behind us where he joined some friends in the crowd. Being a fan of his music as well, I was intrigued by his presence and looked back a few minutes later just to be sure it was really him.

Upon turning around to catch another glimpse I spotted standing beside him a short, red-headed woman engaged in conversation. Shocked and excited, I turned to my sister, "is that…” dare I say it, “…Jenny Lewis?!" She glanced behind us and confirmed that it was in fact my idol. At this point I felt about ready to have a heart attack because JENNY FUCKING LEWIS was standing less than 15 feet away from me! I continuously turned around throughout the show, because how could I not look? Noticing me totally geeking out, my sister advised me to calm down and pay attention to the show. First of all, the band that we had payed to see was playing. Second, and more importantly, if continued, my frequent peeps may be discovered by the object of my gaze; which is a bit creepy in and of itself, but adding to the creepy-stalker vibe, I also happened to be wearing a Jenny Lewis T-shirt.
   
So I returned my attention to the musical genius of Mr. Oberst for a while, but couldn’t help but steal a glance back just a while later. This time, however, Ms. Lewis was gone.  I turned to my sister and with great disappointment, informed her of the new development.  She told me to casually go to the bathroom, checking the lobby on my way to see if they had migrated there. So I exited the theater and sure enough, Jenny, Johnathan, and the whole crew were huddled near the lobby bar. I continued past them into the bathroom, so as to seem like I was not stalking her.

After taking a minute in the bathroom to compose myself I returned to the lobby trying to muster up enough courage to approach Ms. Lewis. As I entered she broke away from her friends and headed toward the door.  She was alone and this was my opportunity. I took a deep breath and prepared to walk toward her, but just as I was about to take my first step I saw her wave to a woman entering the venue and they began to converse. At this point I was only about 4 feet way, but was feeling discouraged; I considered giving up and returning to the show. But just as I was about to turn around a thought struck me: this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, what would my friends say when they found out that I hadn’t taken advantage of it? I had to do this. So I stood there awkwardly waiting.

Less than a minute later Jenny turned to walk back to her friends and spotted my shirt: Born Secular –Jenny Lewis. Here she pointed at me and exclaimed "whoa!" then took a step closer. Oh my god, Jenny Lewis is talking to me! My head was reeling and I was so extremely nervous—I mean, I have trouble talking to normal people and suddenly I had found myself in the presence of a goddess! With the biggest, nerdiest grin on my face I attempted to cover my shirt and replied, voice shaking, "I'm so embarrassed that I'm wearing this right now."

"Why? That’s so cool." she returned. "This is embarrassing, I feel so dorky" I repeated with my hands still across my chest. She placed her hand on my shoulder, "No, that’s so cool, that’s so sweet." she smiled. Then there was a brief second of awkward silence as we stood staring at each other. "Well, uh, i-it-its really nice t-t-to mee...” I attempt to stammer out, when staring at my shirt she again stated, "that’s really sweet."

"I-I'm a huge fan" I said feeling a bit more confident now. "What’s your name?" she asked putting out her hand. I answered. "Mine's Jenny." We shook. "See it says it right there" she continued as she put her finger to my shirt. Oh my God she touched my breast! "I know!" I exclaimed, still in total disbelief that I was actually speaking with Jenny Lewis! "So, any news about the new Rilo Kiley record?" I asked trying so hard to sound cool, collected, and normal, despite the burning in my cheeks reminding me that I looked anything but. "Uh…we're finishing it up" she responded cryptically. "So still no release date or are you keeping it a secret?" I so lamely and dorkily (so much so that it requires I make up adverbs) tried to joke. "No, no. We're working on it, trying to finish" she smiled again. "Cool," I responded as I decided to let her free, "well…thanks for being so nice." I think I may have even touched her shoulder at this point.  She simply laughed, shrugged, and said "Dude!" Then we went our separate ways.

Following our conversation I re-entered the theater with the largest smile on my face. I had to immediately brag to my sister that I had in fact met The Jenny Lewis, who touched my boob, called me “dude,” and said I was sweet, thus making my life complete.