*Magnify*
    June     ►
SMTWTFS
      
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/720496-Friday
Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #1684115
A cozy place of my own in the buzzing town of Blogville, the city that truly never sleeps.
#720496 added March 25, 2011 at 4:03pm
Restrictions: None
Friday
Friday at last. And no, not Rebecca Black's 'Friday,' whose song should probably be eliminated from the air as everyone seems to hate it. In fact, the other day while I was enjoying my blueberry cake doughnut and quietly plugging along with homework at my favorite Dunkin' Donuts, three girls sat off to the side playing the song and music video on one of their smart phones, making great fun of it. I literally laughed out loud.

But, Friday nevertheless. Paper and reading done, only to have another hundred or so pages and a new paper on the agenda. However, one day at a time, and I may as well get a head start on it before next week. I think another lag-behind and my head will explode. That would be a bad thing (I think). So, here I sit at the library, blogging to ease my mind before I plunge headfirst into a new set of assignments. Tonight my friend and I are going to watch 'Little Fockers,' and I just want to kick back and enjoy myself, knowing that I'm ahead of the game in some way.

I'm excited to get writing again. Last night I made the resolution that I would try to get up in the mornings and write for just a half an hour or even fifteen minutes at a nearby café, a resolution which I have already failed. However, everyone deserves some extra shuteye on a Friday, especially after a rather traumatic week. Thankfully my family is coming to visit me this weekend; I almost took up my friend's offer to buy alcohol and have my first liquor at college.

Anyway, I figured I might share some observations about the city that I found amusing or at least strange. Perhaps I'm the only person on the planet who finds these little things comical, but a little laugh here and there doesn't do a body any harm.

Yesterday I sat on the bottom floor of one of the public libraries to write a paper, nicely tucked away against the wall behind bookshelves. Down the table to my left sat a man who had to be near his sixties and weighing about 300lbs, who coughed up phlegm into a tissue every few minutes. I tried to focus, and made progress; then, I turned to my left to reach for something in my bag when I saw it: his full on butt, naked as the day he was born, sticking out over the chair. He was bending for something in his bag, and I received a proper mooning. *Laugh* When I realized that he was not leaving, just doing something strange (and naked waist down), I shut my laptop, gathered my belongings, and high tailed it for a café with free wifi that I've been eying up for some time.

Later in the evening, a friend and I met at a pizza joint for dinner and a girl's night. Afterward, I was craving some chocolate and in need of more green tea, so I asked her to accompany me to the dollar store a few blocks away. She agreed, as wandering alone in that particular part of the city isn't too short of idiotic, and we set off for the hike. I picked up my chocolate and tea, and as we left, a man meandered up the hill, stopped in front of a sign indicating something or other about a parking lot. The man continued talking to himself and reading the sign, nodding, and set off as if in search of a parking lot. I'm not really sure of the significance of that, nor the significance of the man in an alley who wore his coat as a sideways cape and babbled to himself, walking like Charlie Chaplin to amuse himself.

(Please don't find this commentary offensive - I'm merely presenting oddities that I have noticed that I did not encounter in my small hometown.)

Back to turning on autopilot and reading a couple hundred pages before dinner... Hope all is well with you wherever you are.

© Copyright 2011 Jackie Laclède (UN: jacqueline at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Jackie Laclède has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/720496-Friday