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Saturday, March 27, 2010

Lazy Saturday

I've been sitting around in my apartment, baking bread and watching documentaries all day. Lazy Saturday. I've also watched the people in the park come and go all day. There was a few people on a bench by the arbor, a crowd grew around them at intervals, waxing and waning. I wondered what they were talking about, but convinced myself that they were from a political party I despised so I wouldn't feel compelled to go talk to them anymore. It worked. They had a lot of cameras, and seemed very interested in what the people sitting on the bench were saying. They smiled a lot, big teethy smiles, complimenting their starched white shirts. I wish I had gone out there, but I was too shy. A lot of people have come and gone today. Dogs barked at squirrels, dogs barked at other dogs.

Some Asian tourists stopped to gawk at a large gray squirrel and take its picture, and their little girl lingered behind to make faces at it. Two tan bleached blonde girls sat on the bench, smoking cigarettes, looking aloof. I wondered momentarily what they were talking about, but dismissed it as nonsense. I should stop being so judgemental from afar. It's only a way for me to remain disconnected from my environment. My thoughts are all tangled up right now. I'm still trying to make sense of all of the information I've taken in over the past few weeks. Maybe I'll meditate. That would probably help. I need to clear my head. My class is starting on Monday and I hope to at least be articulate enough to engage in seminar.

I'm excited to hide easter eggs in the park, it will make for a lovely Sunday. I'm not sure what I'll put in them yet, but I want it to be something that will garner some sort of reaction, preferably a happy one. We shall see. Overall though, I'm calling this Saturday a good day.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

The Gull Cries Awkward

Alright, so for fear of offending the party I am about to describe, I held off on telling this story until I felt satisfied that I had detered him. I feel it is my duty as someone with a sense of humor to describe these events. So, without further ado: the worst date I have ever been on.

It started normally enough, met in the park by the lake, had my roommate and a friend accompany me to meet him, just to be safe, as I hardly knew this person. They promptly left after we stood around awkwardly, making small talk. I gave him two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, because we were supposed to have a picnic or something of that ilk, though I had already eaten. So he ate the aforementioned sandwiches, spilling jam all over himself. Lovely, right? I shouldn't complain, I am terrible at eating, I spill things on myself clumsily all the time. But I digress, consumed sandwiches. Then began complaining about belt, claiming it was too loose, which it was clearly not.

So we walked to the Olympia Supply Company, where he decided against buying the leather punch he had insisted on going there for. Thus, we meandered around the hardware store. If I had had any attraction to this man, this activity would have amused me, but we wandered around in the damned place for a good 45 minutes. I tried to make jokes about buckets-- come on, humor is hard to come by in a hardware store.

After this leisurely jaunt, we walked toward the lake, intending to go tour the capitol building. On our way, I spotted a dying seagull. Now, this is where it gets really interesting. I was upset about the seagull, and was going to go and lay it in the grass so that it could fade peacefully, but he insisted that would be cruel, that the cold water would kill it faster. I pouted. So he declared he would put it out of its misery, and grabbed a large stick. I cringed, protesting. Elderly onlookers scowled. He walked over to the ailing bird, took aim, and... SMACK! Hit the bird. It was a bit like playing baseball when I was a kid. One could never be sure exactly the result of the collison of ball and bat, or in this case, bird and bat, but one knew it would not be pleasant. The bird screeched, strike one, or was it a 'fowl'? He took aim again, concentrating, and... WHACK! I turned back toward the scene, shocked, the grey and white bird twitched, and moved no more, aside from swaying with the waves.

The stick was discarded, and we continued walking, my mouth still slightly agape. Had he really just ended a seagull on a date? Yes, yes he had. A combination of shock and intrigue compelled me to stick with it, thus we continued. I mean really, if I had bailed, I would have missed out on further comedy. So, we continued, toured the capitol building. I took a coloring book, he frowned at me, rolling his eyes, clearly he was too old for me. The date continued, we walked around, all my old haunts, joking awkwardly, ending up on the other side of town in a used furniture store. I found a delightful old electric keyboard with a bevy of colorful buttons with musical tastings ranging from foxtrot to, my favorite, teen beat. I amused myself with this device for a little while, while he continued toward the back of the store. Chairs were sampled, I climbed into a wardrobe, to which he shut the door with a sharp slam, and I protested from therein that it was not Narnia.

The furniture store was abandoned, after I had awkwardly called my voicemail in an attempt to fill conversational gaps. It began hailing, so we sat in the downtown transit center. He then informed me that he needed to move his car, as the meter had run out, so we walked back across town in the hail.

Car successfully moved, I sought refuge in my apartment, where my roommate and a friend were studying. He accompanied me, and we sat around thumbing through a 1960's Whole Earth catalogue. This went on far longer than I anticipated, and I began to get uncomfortable. He tried to tickle me at one point, my response being hitting him, as well as biting him (not a friendly bite, a 'mad dog' sort of chomp for freedom). He also attempted to kiss me. Seeing as he had killed a seagull in front of me, and the date had been a major flop, I don't see how he saw this working out for him. I turned my head, covered my lips with my hands, said no, and unintentionally laughed. I felt a twinge of guilt, but not enough to repent for the act. I then informed him that I had plans for the evening, which was a complete fabrication, but at least it got him out of my apartment.

So, the lesson learned from this? I hate dating, and cannot possibly take it seriously ever again.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Poem?

The pit of my stomach churns.
Hold me, hold me, hold me.

It's a pity to be alone
on pretty nights.

Lions and Tigers and Bears

Taken for the tin man,
Cold.
Loveless.
Heartless.
Corners of the lips
too often curled down.

Taken for the straw man,
Fool.
Forgetful.
Chaotic.
Optimism in the face of hopelessness,
friend to all foes.

The lion lacks courage, not hope.
Lions.
Tigers.
Bears.
Sometimes it hurts to have a heart
when you're afraid to use it,
but you haven't forgotten how.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Lie Through Your Teeth,

You put so much bearing on morality
Yet you are easily bullied to speak lies
Then, it's not the first time,
a breach of trust, respect to rust and ruin.

So many white lies you've become colorblind.
It's not about honor or reputation anymore,
You've no more dignity than a dog,
Teeth gnashing as you cower in the corner.

Another fatality of circumstance.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Dear Monday,

I know we haven't gotten along very well in the past. You are really just a day that should be devoted to sleep and reading. But no, you drag on, in the most chaotic fashion imaginable. You have a power over me that I cannot describe. When you are here, I cannot think, I forget everything. I'm a mess. We have to admit that we are just not good for eachother. No matter how much coffee I drink, I am still utterly lost. I forget everything, and possibly lose things, I'm not sure yet, we will see on that one.

Why are you like this Monday? Couldn't you be more like Friday? We get into these arguments Monday, about time management and my mental state. It's you, not me. I know, that might hurt, but you really are an awful day of the week. I spend all of you just running around trying to survive. It's like the zombie apocalypse, in the sense that everyone is tired, there is not enough coffee in the world to make them alright, and we all might eat eachother if properly provoked. No, I am not condoning cannibalism. It's just you have this effect on people, Monday. You should definitely seek help. It's over.

Love,
Chloe