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Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Windows

Sometimes I'm not sure what to make of myself. One minute, I'm sitting on the bus listening to music, and the next I'm biting my lip to push back a feeling. Why these outdated thoughts continue to cross my mind confounds me. I wasn't necessarily sad, more disappointed, and the feeling was not even necessarily unwelcome. Getting lost in the words bouncing in my headphones, I got caught in a daydream a year late. Conspiratorial affections shared among the stacks in the library, in reading rooms. Words traced intentionally on wrists. Sketched out flirtations and hearts drawn on hands.
I remember where it was and when it happened. A bit of ball point pen ink from a bic pen, in just the right shape. It was perfectly centered around the freckle below my knuckle. Our palms sweat and we didn't seem to care. I couldn't stop smiling. Even our feet fit perfectly together, standing at attention for a farewell. How it all went wrong is obvious to me now, but that doesn't mean I don't regret that it did. It was what always happens: life. It was fleeting, passionate, and lacking the dedication to persist. We were both too flighty, both too unsure, both too scared. Too lost. It wasn't meant to last, though it was meant to be, if only for a little while.
I know why it didn't work. I still think about him, and I wish things were different. I wish we just talked, because he pulled me up, he knew me from cover to cover, and I didn't mind. When blue eyes met brown, I knew he knew me. He didn't always know what was on my mind, but he cared. Even when he was so caught up in his own messes, he'd try. Or I would relent. It wasn't really enough, when he wasn't all the way there, when he was too distracted. I still wish we'd talk, just about things, things that actually matter. He made sense to me in a funny way, a way that nobody else has really made sense to me. I really do love him, and I know he feels the same, but not in the way that either of us can parlay into a committed relationship. It was too unstable. We understand eachother, but not in the right way. There was too much judgement. It wasn't quite unconditional. It was forgiving, but not unconditional.
Sitting on the bus on your way to work in the morning is not the best time to lose yourself in thoughts that are bound to make you look lonesome. As I walked to work, turning up the music, and forcing a smile to my lips, I worried that my eyes would give it away. That some passerby would catch my eye, and notice it. They're the one place I can't always make smile, and I'm not sure I want the world to know I'm not smiling. Eyes are the windows to the soul, and it seems to me that it's safer to keep the shutters drawn. Someday I'll open the windows and let the wind blow through again.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Zen Toast

I've developed a new game! It's called 'Zen Toasting'. The basic concept: you wait for toast to pop up. That's it. But! There's so much more to it than that! It makes waiting for toast the most exciting part of your morning, or afternoon, or midnight (depending on how deeply devoted you are to toast). First load the 'edible projectiles' into the 'magic gluten convector', and press down the 'automated lever of magic convection'. Step two, stare expectantly at the 'magic gluten convector',as it's mysterious inner-workings toast the 'edible projectiles' to crispy perfection. This next bit is very important: You MUST not take your eyes off of the toaster. Nail biting is definitely allowed, just don't take your eyes off of it. Don't time your toaster either, that will ruin the whole game. The entire game is dependent on the fact that you don't know exactly when the toast will eject, and you will enjoy a distinct terror when you are surprised. Personally, I find this particular terror to be a very enriching element of my day-to-day activities. Toast cannot hurt me, it's just bread, so, really it doesn't go much beyond startling me. Toast cannot eat me, to my knowledge, nor is it handy with a gun or a butterfly knife. Thus, the fear I experience is very controllable. This game can be used as part of a training regimen, if you are training to become a ninja. It will sharpen your senses, and train you to control your fear. However, toast is not a very realistic simulation of a real-life enemy, who might have a sword or a lazer or whatever. So, take it with a grain of salt, or butter, I don't know, whatever you like on your toast?

(Clearly I need more excitement in my life).

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Indulgence

I've pretty much done nothing of a material value today. I've laid in bed watching movies and petting the cat. Days like this are. I can't seem to motivate myself to do anything, so, in recognition of it being summer and that meaning I don't really HAVE to do anything, I'm not going to do anything, except think. I've been feeling pretty burnt out. I spend a good deal of my time at home. I try to read, and generally grow disinterested fairly quickly. I don't know. I was supposed to have company this weekend. I'm glad I don't, it would have been a bad idea anyway, considering who it consisted of. I definitely prefer time to think, rather than acting rashly and feeling terrible afterward.
I'm excited for the bike trip next weekend. Until then, I'll swoon over Gregory Peck and draw silly pictures.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Heat Wave!

Today is about:

- Blue plastic kiddie pools
- Dollar store beach balls
- Tiny innertubes
- Kool-Pops
- Squirt gun fights
- Chasing the the ice cream truck
- Cab Calloway
- Bikinis
- Beer squirt gun (awful)
- Bikes
- Short shorts
- Chess in the backyard

Flattery

This is what I deal with.

stranger: pretty pics hun
me: thank you.
stranger: thank you
stranger: :)
stranger:what ya up to hun?
me: listening to Jazz and enjoying my day off, and why do you keep calling me hun?
stranger:cuz you cute
me: I am aware of that, but pet names are odd
stranger: you like a different pet name?
stranger: like hot lips or something?
me: no, none would be preferable, haha
stranger: sitting around in anything cute?
me: ummm... I think you've got the wrong girl mister.

Seriously? I mean, a little effort, really, at least read my profile. I don't even begin to understand dating sites. (Yes, I admit it, geocaching has turned into actually meeting new people, of the male variety).

Compelled

Despite being so very tired, I can't seem to sleep. My mind is abound with recollections of books read and bike rides. I spent a lovely afternoon after work reading an autobiography about Nikola Tesla and planting seeds, as well as calling my housemate who is currently rooted East, until August. Now I am trying to work the thoughts out of my head so I can get some peace. I hear cats fighting outside, and the room is filled with the quintessential summery aroma of freshly picked lavender. I am attempting to examine my thoughts and actions as they relate to my external reality. However, I am happily exhausted, so it's not really working right now. I am in the charming company of my cat, but I'd prefer someone to talk to. Everyone in the house seems absorbed by their activities at the moment though. Maybe I'll learn to catch crows...

Monday, July 5, 2010

Dirt

Things were accomplished in the yard today! Many things! Two vegetable beds were dug, a lavender plant was transplanted, as well as some bulbs. A storage lean-to was constructed against the fence. An arch was built out of sticks and twine for the grapevine to climb on. Hands got dirty. Death-eyes was played. Picnics were had. Seeds were planted! Songs were sung! Needless to say, but for the sake of saying it, today was a good day.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Status

Cruising the town on your bicycle, riding up high on one pedal down the sidewalk. You're acting cool, calm, collected, untouchable. You're wearing that cool sweater you found at the free store, the perfectly worn in kicks, and feeling really hip. Even when things don't go your way, when you discover that no store seems to have what you are looking for, and you relent and resort to plan B, you take solace in the fact that the guy in the computer section was taken aback by your knowledge of cables. You stop for coffee, collect your nerves. You make conversation with near strangers. Stare at birds on the powerlines. Pet dogs wearing shirts. Make witty comments about the dogs in shirts. The wind in your hair on the ride home makes you feel free.

Really you're awkward, and didn't have half a notion what to say. You tactfully hide the fact that you are shaking out of nervousness. Somehow your brain spit out combinations of words that seemed to fit together. You analyze the day from afar, sitting in your front yard with an amplifier, listening to music in the sun. You get excited over pranks that aim to convince your housemates that robots are taking over the world. You feel strange, somewhat alien, and often very alone. You amuse yourself drawing strange pictures of strange events happening to strange creatures. Somehow you have cobbled this strange mixture of social awkwardness and dreaming into a personality. This is who you are, and you are fine with it-- though you wouldn't mind a bit more people skills. You feel cool, sometimes.

Then there's that moment, as you prepare for a morning shower, when you are wearing only Halloween socks, and you feel so ineffably cool. But only because the door is locked.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Progress

It strikes me sometimes that technology is always moving faster than I ever will. In fact, society seems to be moving faster than I ever will. But it also seems that a lot of things are progressing in entirely the wrong direction. Growing further and further from their roots, until there is no more room to grow. I believe in progress certainly, but what's wrong with turning around and taking a step in the other direction? It's still progress, you're still moving forward. The only difference is you're not taking the last step off of a cliff, but back towards land. It's logical, it's sane. But things just keep moving "forward" faster. Like HD televisions that are so fast that the human eye can't even detect a good deal of the images it is spitting out. I mean, really, what's the point of that? It just seems absurd. To make ourselves feel so inferior in contrast to the technology we created. The fact that we created it is a complete aside in this case, it's hardly something to be proud of if you can't even fully utilize it. Though it's not nearly as useless as inventing something with entirely no purpose, such as, let us say, a pet rock? I don't know. I hardly see the progress in this progression.