Sigh.
Really I just feel like an idiot for having said what I�ve just said. Precisely why I rarely, if ever, spoke in class when I was in college. It�s so much easier to sit back and deconstruct the idiocy of the ongoing conversation than to assert some intellectual might and say what I�m thinking. Not that quick on my toes, anyway. Oh, it�s just like wanting to redo conversations with people when I feel I�ve lost. It�s no fun to lose.
Speaking of school and stuff reminds me of an interaction I had on Monday. I was out for a walk, and a neighbor boy struck up a conversation. He�s probably about 10; he was out playing on his bike. After our initial discussion about bikes and bike wrecks, he asked me if my husband had a red bike, all the while riding just a bit ahead, then stopping to wait for me. I said he probably meant my neighbor (who is in his early to mid 60s, I might add), who rides with his wife. He took this in and thought about it for a bit, then said, �What happened?� And I was confused. He finally elaborated that he meant he wanted to know what had happened to my husband.
I said I wasn�t married, that I was too young to be married. The little troll said, �Well, you don�t look like it.� So I had to then explain that I was technically old enough, but that I just didn�t feel old enough and that I wasn�t quite ready for that, since I decided I�d rather not discuss the sad lack of dates with a 10 year old. So then we talked about more interesting things like horses (his family has horses, and I�m jealous), how he was kicked in the nose once, how he didn�t cry, how he did cry when his dog bit him (nasty scar that further illustrates my previously-established judgment of their creatures as nothing short of awful), etc. But then he asked if I was in high school.
Our play date was cut short when his mom came outside looking for him, so they could go pick up his sister at school. Why, I never even found out his name, but I identified with his dilemma at placing an age label on me. I sure as heck can�t figure it out, either.
I need a syllabus. I dunno what I�m supposed to be working on. Outside of work.
But tomorrow�s the big party. I was up till one or so preparing the apartment for guests, making sure ewenorker won�t be disgusted by any remnants of filth. I even swept up the newest batch of cricket pieces. And I discovered those Clorox sanitizing wipes, which made my hasty bathroom cleaning much more thorough and quick. Things look okay, and I know exactly what I need to get done tonight and tomorrow. Perhaps if I schedule parties regularly, I�ll feel a sense of purpose and guidance in life?
Naw, that�s okay. Things are weird right now, but I can�t afford the party scene. Not with Neko Case, Todd Snider, North Mississippi Allstars and other glorious bands headed my way next month.
And now I�ve lost any train of thought, and idea of theme and point, in order to list my potential activities for the weekend. La la la.