Saturday, October 18

Monsieur Lutra

10:00 on a Saturday night. Everyone's tired. Everyone's asleep.

...Everyone but me.

     God, I hate weekends.

Too many nights I find myself pacing this room all edgy, tense, and pent-up. I want out. I want out of here. I've got a jones for live music and a belly that's hungry for overpriced drinks and stupid conversations. I don't have to be at work tomorrow. I don't have to be anywhere tomorrow.

It doesn't matter that I've only got ten bucks to my name and nowhere to go. It doesn't matter that I'd be my own designated driver. It doesn't matter that I'd be my own date.

     ...10:00 on a Saturday night.

I've got half a mind to get a bottle of anything and a glazed donut to go, you know? Snag myself a fifth of something dark and bring it back here. Twist the cap, turn on the late-night reruns, and do a shot every time Red Foxx calls Lamont a dummy. Every time Chuck Norris spinkicks someone in a cowboy hat. Every time Will Ferell sings hip hop.

    Give me a porthole to swim through.
    Come with me to the dinner party.
    Even if I discover that I don't belong in these clothes
    Isn't it better to try and find out firsthand?


Maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe I should just take the hint and call it a night when everyone else around here does. I'm 31 years old -- maybe it's just time to accept it and hang up the skates. But man, I'm so awake right now. So hungry for anything other than these four walls and 6 fuzzy networks.

But I can't. I mean.. What if something happens? What if someone wakes up? My place is here. I need to be here. Here at 10:00 on a Saturday night.

              ... Fuck it, I'm going out.


Friday, October 17

The Ones That Mother Gives You Don't Do Anything At All

We're watching TV, and this commercial comes on. We both kind of watch in silence -- not so much an awkward kind, but just sort of a simultaneous quiet that seems to make the air around us feel thicker than it maybe needed to be.

As the ad fades into electrons, we sort of sit there - the distance on the couch between us suddenly apparent. The silence now... is different.

       And so, you start to talk.

I'm trying not to be annoyed by the implication. I'm trying to accept things in the spirit you're intending. But it's hard not to feel like you're reacting to the sudden heaviness in the air. It's hard not to feel like things are being said for my benefit, and not from your own concerns.

     ...And so, it kinda bothers me.

It's... You don't understand. You just don't understand. But what's worse is, I don't know how to help you understand. Probably because I don't fully understand your side, either.

You didn't have to say it. I didn't really need you to say anything about it. You shouldn't feel obligated to respond because of me. That's not what this is about. I'm not trying to win anything. If this is where we are... then this is where we are. I'm not going to feel slighted if you don't say anything. I'm not expecting you to be something, or be disappointed if you're not.

             I just want you
                   to be ...you.



Monday, October 13

Written in Red

In the dream you were the same as when I last saw you
   and that's the only way I know it was fantasy.
     A vision of you that returns to me sometimes...
       but it's a vision of who you *were* -- not of who you are now.
         But you were so real, so alive, so... you
           that all I could do was wake up and feel sad.
             What does it mean when you appear?
               What does it mean that this memory of you,
                 this picture in my mind -- nearly 15 years old
                  ...still turns away every time I stare into your eyes?



Friday, October 10

Tonight on "Real Life Pizza Delivery Girl Fantasies"

You arrive early with the hand-tossed medium, checking your makeup in the mirror before stepping out of the car. A self-assured smile crosses your lips as you enjoy the image looking back at you. A moment later, holding the heat saving bag, you ring the bell.

He opens the door, fishing in his wallet for something. ...Dark hair, broad shoulders.

Holding the pizza seductively in your right hand, you stare into his blue eyes as you accept his credit card.

            He wants something... you can sense it.

There's an old movie playing on the television set that’s just inside the door. You comment on the acting and start to talk about similar movies you like. He smiles, laughs at your jokes, and talks back in a deep voice. It’s almost like you’ve made a connection, found a kindred spirit who shares your tastes and sense of humor. Who could have ever imagined that this could happen to a regular girl like you who’s just trying to make some extra money with a part-time job?

          He's still staring at you.
          …Staring intently.

There's a moment - a pause filled with …something. Perhaps a spark?

Your mind runs through a million different possibilities that will all come true if he would only say the words to break the ice... if he would just part those lips and invite you inside.

He looks you over slowly -- from the bottom of your rubber-soled work shoes to the top of the hat that's holding back your ponytail of long brown hair. Then he wets his lips, as if preparing to say something. You shift in your stance, excited and yet ...terrified by the waiting, the endless, horrible waiting....

Finally, he speaks:

                  "Are you going to, you know -- let me
                  have my pizza, anytime... soon?"


Thursday, October 2

Actually Spoken During the Course of my Evening

    Ok, I can accept the theory that because they weren't directly needed for survival, amimals like whales and walruses evolved away from having feet until they reached the stages that we know them at now.

    But this process took place over thousands of years, right? I mean -- it wasn't like one day they had feet, and the next day they didn't.

    So you have to imagine there was this huge time period where all these whales were like..

                      "God, these shoes are fucking killing me!"


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