I sure would like to know when this whole recession/depression/whatever we're calling it these days is going to be over. For a girl who always likes to have a plan "B" in case plan "A" doesn't work out, not having an end in sight of an economic disaster that she clearly doesn't fully comprehend (never mind being able to make predictions), is really leaving a very uncomfortable feeling in the space that she thinks used to house her gall bladder. All that extra space you know is a somewhat convenient place to store angst and other buried realities that make it more difficult to be obnoxiously effervescent and giddy.
There is a red button at the top of the stairs going down from the train platform. The deal with these stairs is you have to wait in line to go down them two at a time, and on the one side of this crowded stairway is an unmarked, unprotected, yet brightly colored button that looks like its taken directly out of a daffy duck cartoon. I am sure that everyone else is too sleepy to notice this temptation, but I have to physically restrain myself from pressing it every morning. I have no intention of taking my pointer finger and dramatically applying pressure. No, there are too many people, and the time that that motion would take would definitely be noticed. No, what I dream of is "accidentally" nudging the button with my upper arm as if I had temporarily lost my balance and my clumsiness inadvertently activated whatever secrets this button holds. I've seen the emergency buttons mind you, this does not have the same resemblance. This button does something more exciting... I just don't know what it it. Right. Maybe I should make an effort to walk on the left side of the stairs from now on just in case I temporarily lose me sanity and control. Much better plan.
I got a random invite to my old "shop" teacher, Mr. Walker's, retirement party. I loved two things about this teacher. Surprisingly it had nothing to do with how to build a proper bridge or how to cut a block of wood transforming it into a sleek automobile. No, I loved that he was kind of crazy (a quality as YOU all know I am drawn to) and secondly, he was always hatching snapping turtles. I loved me some turtles in 7th and 8th grade... and the fact that he was (illegally) farming these animals and then giving them out to his students was the most awesome of awesomely cool things that I have ever had a teacher do. Baby snapping turtles are great. They can reach their heads all the way back to their tails making it nearly impossible to not get bit unless they liked you. Plus they were so ugly that they were cute. I think we appropriately and affectionately called one of ours feo. Now that I think about it, with what ten or so turtles in our collection I don't think we paid for a single one (mostly b/c baby turtles weren't allowed to be sold b/c of the concentrated dose of salmonella that they carry.) Either way... I have a small urge to attend the party to see if he's still insane, count his fingers, and see how many turtles he has ready to hatch.
My parents are just starting to understand my TV on DVD obsession now that we are onto the third season of Boston Legal. I had spared them up until now, but frankly its about time they had a glimpse into the real, obsessive me.
Attended the birthday party of my two nieces yesterday, pleased that I could distract myself with Harp and Cupcakes from the debilitating reality that they are turning 11 and 8. Bailey, as the oldest of the kids, is my litmus test of age, and if I am going to continue lying about my own age, we'll have to start doing something about hers. I know that its usually watching the youngest get older that makes you feel old, but frankly Bails was the one I spent the most baby time with... and its like you go away for 9 measly years and people decide to go and change on you. Either way it was an excellent trampoline jumping time that was focused more on the adults having fun than the children. What more could you ask for? Especially b/c ...
Oh! 15 more days until my birthday. Better start working on present ideas b/c
And CONGRATULATIONS TO NATE on getting into the play writing program at DePaul University. I couldn't find a nice congrats card for you... but I think this will do:
Over and Out.
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