Day 284
This morning at dawn (10 am) I was to meet up with a couple friends for breakfast. We were all late. After breakfast we went down to the beach and people-watched. First there was the new recruits training to become lifeguards. We rated them all according to their hotness. The balding guy ranked surprisingly high. A few kids and two mothers were playing nearby. We watched the cute-blonde haired boy dig a hole and then sit in it so that just his head and arms and legs stuck out. His mother came by with him in his arms and asked if we wouldn't mind watching their stuff while they took the kids to the bathroom. The curly-haired child added, "I want to--I have to make a pee pee in the toilet!" When they came back from the bathroom he said, "Thank you! I made a pee pee!" And that is the reason I want to have a kid.
After the beach outing I went to a coffeeshop. At this coffeeshop I expected some miracle to occur, you know, the one where you are actually productive with your writing but what happened was the following in this order:
A woman and her daughter showed up and sat at the table directly next to mine. The daughter was a bespeckled 8 year old. She went up to a teenager in a chair nearby who was reading a book and asked her all sorts of questions. I thought that she didn't know the teenager. So, in an effort to not be bothered by the kid myself I adopted an air of being busy, yet note each time she looks at me.
Next, I took off my headphones to listen in and the glasses kid asked if and when Dad is coming. Dad showed up and I found out he was there to take the bespeckled kid and the teenager who turns out to be the kid's sister with him. The little girl hugged and kissed her dad he reciprocated and the teenager barely looked up from her novel. He checked the title and she said greeted him and went back to reading. The little girl was ecstatic to see her dad. They left with him and left the coffeeshop. Not many words were exchanged between the father and the mother, actually, the only words I remember are, "Bye." "Yeah, bye."
Then I keep looking up to see if the mother's face had changed expression, it didn't. The entire time we were sitting in that coffeeshop she had the most hateful expression. Then I wondered why she had that hateful expression and what the big manuals she was flipping through contained. Then I wondered what she was typing. Then I wondered if I will ever be that lady with that horrible expression who looks and probably is so bitter and jaded at the world that she sits in public places and scowls. Now all I wonder is how I ever get anything done if I am sitting around wondering all day.
So in an effort to help out on the literary magazine at school and to beef up my CV I have volunteered to read short stories as a first reader. This means that I read the slush pile (translation: mountain of stories we get in the mail) and give the fiction editor notes. Today I opened one of the fifteen stories I have to have read and made notes on for by Tuesday and found that instead of the usual cover letter that accompanies the story (basically introducing what the writer has written in the past and thanks you for reading their submission) there was a photo of the author. The photo of the author showed a cute, grandmotherly woman. She looked like the kind of woman who could bake blueberry pie and keep her husband in line, basically the Every Grandma. I read her two stories with much anticipation, only to find them dull. When it came time to write notes I wanted to tell the editor to accept based on her cuteness and the fact that she might feed us roast beef and pies in thanks, but I kept my idiotic integrity as an editorial board member. Guess I am going anorexic.
So there is a new solo artist that is from a town that is twenty miles from where I grew up. I heard one of his songs awhile back and really liked them. Then I listened to them again and tried to look up other songs of his on youtube and ran across an interview with him. He talks about what life is like where we grew up and his inspiration from it. I was so touched that I bought his album on and have been listening to it pretty much, except for rock and roll interludes, since it downloaded into my I-Tunes. Now his work has a new meaning to me. If I didn't know that his music was about where I am from though I probably wouldn't have gotten that it was written about that area. Does this make me a poser or him to abstract?
In an effort to relax (translation: not do what I am supposed to be doing) I came home this afternoon and watched a couple re-run episodes of Jon and Kate Plus Eight. In one of the episodes Kate takes her brood shopping for party supplies. Before they get out of the van she tells them to be ready to run into the store as there are paparazzi everywhere. Then one of the kids asks something about paparazzi and she tells them not to use the word, "paparazzi." In an interview segment she talks about how they have the kids call the paparazzi the "p-people" so they don't go to school and tell stories about the paparazzi chasing them around because Kate thinks that it's "weird." What is weirder is that she expects the kids to deny something that is a huge part of their lives or that her kids are running around potentially talking about P-people which could be misconstrued as Pee People? Right? I am not sure anymore. All I know for certain is that the magician they hired for the kid party was incredibly low-rent. Aren't they rich?
I texted my new crush today to see if he'd come and look at my new bike lock. I am not sure if it is secure and if Elliot is worth stealing anyhow. Regardless he texted me back and included the name of my bike which he remembered. I was touched. He said that we could meet up and look at the lock situation "at dinner" which I can only assume meant after dinner. Well, I greeted him at dinner and he greeted me and that is the last I heard from him. I really don't get this whole business of even having a crush on people anymore. But seriously, it's one thing to let me down and quite another to let down my kid (okay, so my kid's a bike, but still).
Last week an IT guy I know told me that I was one of those people who always had to have friends that know how to work and fix computers because I am clueless. Not only did he say that, he put up a comic strip on my Twitter account that is all about the suck ups who use computer wizards to their personal benefit. So today when I couldn't get my I-tunes to play Modern Family I found him on facebook and wrote him an urgent chat that literally read, "Buddy, insert sucking up to you phrase here, can you help me fix my effing I-tunes?" Turns out all you need to do is "reboot it" which is quite simple if you know what "reboot it" means. But, I don't have to worry I have a friend to explain to me what that means. I know what you're thinking, 'my 87year old grandma who has dementia and a broken wrist can operate I-tunes you friggin idiot girl.' Yeah, well, if your grandma is so goddamn smart give me her email for my next computer emergency then.
Tip of the Day: It is never a bad time to listen to the Dazed and Confused soundtrack.
-Canadian Castaway
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