Title numero dos.

It is perfect road trip weather today. On the way back from the bank this afternoon I listened to one of the cds I made Larry eight hundred years ago and then never mailed, and I listened to it as loudly as I could without my speakers spazzing out, and I sang along and made up choreography as I hurtled forward along Huguenot road, and it just about killed me to head home and not just drive on forever enveloped in college-loved rock music and 98 degree summer air. I almost died.

Have any of you ever read style rookie? A natural phenomenon on legs. A prodigy. Tavi's in eighth grade and she writes about fashion and life with such style and smoothness and flat-out unbelievable talent that I follow her blog, even though, as I said, she writes about fashion. I really could give a crap about fashion. But she is truly brilliant and you should just give her a try.

At the moment I'm trying to do some playlist work--remake those cds I did for Larry way back in prehistoric times on another computer, and burn a long-overdue birthday mix for that one girl I hang out with a lot. I got up to talk to my dad for a second and I knocked down the French press I picked up for Camp earlier this year. It was glass. I am a little annoyed. The cd stuff is going well though. Now if only I can maintain my focus and get it done despite Mom and Chloe wanting my help with packing Chloe's birthday/memorial day picnic cooler. Multitasking practice, go.

A title.

I need to be making boursin cheese instead of wasting time online. I am a bad person. BUT I did help Cynthia jump her car just now, so I feel like that balances it out a little. But that wasn't the point of this post. This was:

Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz fans, meet the new awesomeness:


Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World Official Trailer from Lucas Siegel on Vimeo.

I miss having someone I can text anything to at any hour for any reason. And I miss having someone I can talk about my day with. And I miss having someone I can love.


I know I've been chasing and laughing and being ridiculous, and that's fun and distracting and all and it's not lies and most of the time I'm ok, but all this is still here too, sharing the same space. Yes. So it would seem.

It is 1:15 am and David, here is what I want, so much.
%.


I am thinking this sad moment is a product of another moment earlier today in the car when I had the sudden feeling that maybe I was okay not being with David. My mind and heart so long resisted the vulnerability of falling in love. Now it looks like I'm resisting the opposite action in the same manner.

I feel like going to bed but I don't feel like it. Possibly this has to do with the fact that I love sleeping but can never fricking fall asleep anymore. But on the plus side, I found my benadryl today. I hate to misuse the stuff but as I said, I can never fricking fall asleep lately.

I did go to church with my parents today, but didn't talk to the woman about the apartments. I'm not sure whether she was there. I did sort of bond a little though with the mother of a kid Chloe acted with, which is a suppose a little odd. Our two families talked for a while though after the service was over, and that woman is hilarious. Unfortunately though I was sort of reaffirmed in the idea that the church in which I grew up is not really the church I want to be attending. That makes me sad because it means a lot to my dad, and I know a lot of people there (obviously), and going there would be so much more convenient than looking around for another church. But that's life.

The strawberry picking outing was a success, though it was really more like strawberry gleaning than picking. Have you ever experienced that horrible phenomenon of the siren strawberry call? There you are in your chosen row, bent down, berry basket grasped in one hand, the other hand deep in the sweet, green leaves. You drop a clutch of red heaven into your basket. You straighten, stand, gaze out across the strawberry fields. There. There it is. The shiniest, reddest, roundest, most beautiful strawberry ever born. You bound across the rows, filled with joy. You stop. Bend. Grasp. Lift.

The back side is rotten.

That was pretty much the story of today, only for the most part the bushes were scrawny, and almost all the strawberries were past their prime or rotten. I did manage to nearly fill my basket though. Also, there was a man from Turkey (via Russia) with his family! So I got to talk ESL stuff for a little while with a genuine ESL learner. Technically not ESL though I guess, as English is more like his fourth or fifth language, not his second. But still. Good times.

Back at the take-your-money building we found that they were selling cider slushies. Why have I never heard of these before? This is the best idea ever, ever. Ever. It was hot as all get-out today. Chloe got peach. I got apple. It was so good. I can't even find words to describe such gustatory beauty and wonder. Cider slushies.

Should I start titling these again? Any opinions?

Two other things. First, I want you all to know that there is an invisible fish in the digital fish tank to the right. Or, if you prefer, there is a fish that is the same color as the background. Sometimes you can see him swim over another fish if you look closely. This would be an excellent use of your time.

Secondly, on the way home from Food Lion I was thinking about advertising on facebook for a rehearsal dinner date--an advertisement with a specific candidate in mind. I'd have to clear it with Susannah first, but probably I'll just hold on to that sliver of my pride. Maybe.

Relatedly, operation Fly Casual a.k.a. become-friends-with-Inigo is progressing slowly, if at all. Such a shame. Inigo, if you are reading this, I promise I'm not a total creep. I just like getting to know new people and you, acquaintance-type person, seem cool and were lucky/unlucky enough to attract my attention. Are you busy next Saturday? Just wondering...


And now, on to Wal-Mart. I lead such a glamorous life.

I was finally ready to do laundry, now that I've almost completely run out of clothes. I threw everything in a laundry basket. I carried it downstairs. I loaded the washer. I realized we have no laundry detergent.

This is why I recognize most of the people who work the night shift at our Wal-Mart.



Next topic: Susannah is getting married in eight days. How in the world is that possible? That means that we're setting up for the rehearsal dinner this week, and that the actual rehearsal dinner is in seven days. Next week, the first one of my best friends will be a married woman. Unbelievable.

She asked me to give a toast at the reception, which is really an honor and also sort of scary. I need to get on that.


Also, I need some monies. This is an issue. Camp, start. Ready go. My mother did tell me today about a woman who goes to our church that's looking for someone to manage an apartment complex nearby. I don't really know what's involved with managing an apartment complex, but I'm guessing it has a lot to do with keeping track of money and maintenance and who's renting and when leases are up, and I can totally do that. Omg please hire me. Preferably, please hire me in the fall. The fall would be good. So I'm going to try to talk to her at church tomorrow and be extremely charming and personable and become friends and get hired.

By the way, being an apartment manager means having an apartment rent-free. It means dreams coming true.

After talking to apartment woman and making friends and going to church, we'll be heading two hours in some direction to pick strawberries, because tomorrow is Chloe's birthday and for her birthday she wants to pick strawberries in the mountains. Also she told us this morning that she wants that orange cake--the really delicious one that takes three days to make. Man, we are so good at planning birthdays in advance. We should start a party-planning service or something. We would be rich. In lawsuits.
















I want to offer my sincerest apologies for the overabundance of italicized words in this post.

I am still tired--I've been having a lot of trouble falling asleep lately, which is stupid--but I'm so glad I got to help Sus and Mike move yesterday. I wish it were feasible for me to go up to DC and help them move in today. I was thinking about this as I failed to fall asleep, and it occurred to me that I love to create order. I know that sounds sort of stupid to anyone who knows me because my stuff is always such a mess, but I think that because there's so much entropy in my head (/heart, emo emo), I like to make order with my hands. Usually this means moving furniture, or in this case consolidating boxes and packing furniture into a truck. I love the puzzle of trying to make things take up as little space as possible. The puzzle of how to keep them from sliding, sort of but not so much.

Relatedly, I need to sharpen my pocket knife. It wasn't really a fan of cutting all that nylon rope.