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 |  My first ever Writing.com journal. |
| this is me having too much time on my hands. my deepest apologies. i know this one's idiotic and looks like every other one ever, but do it anyway. i'm curious about everyone's movies and music, mostly. exposure. is. a good thing. name fifteen living people in your family: 1. mom 2. dad 3. chad 4. rachel 5. butch 6. pam 7. david 8. ruby 9. lynzae 10. susan 11. donovan 12. nicholas 13. jamila 14. mabel 15. granna at this time last year, i was in new orleans. chad plays the trumpet in his high school's marching band, which is one of the best in the state, and they'd been invited to compete for a headline spot at the 2004 sugar bowl, and to play with the other nine chosen bands at the halftime show. we all went. new year's is (was), supposedly, new orleans' second most lucrative weekend, annually (after mardi gras, of course), and you could tell. it wasn't that cold, which was nice. i still didn't flash anybody. name fourteen movies you like: 1. kill bill vol. 2 2. the sound of music 3. one flew over the cuckoo's nest 4. edward scissorhands 5. the nightmare before christmas 6. saw ii 7. the empire strikes back 8. back to the future part iii 9. boomerang 10. don juan demarco 11. american beauty 12. multiplicity 13. mo' betta blues 14. the addams family i don't really believe in the literal self-professed powers of street psychics, but i do think that to be at all convincing, they have to know a hell of a lot about physical psychology. nonverbal cues and stuff. there was a long row of them in this alleyway perpendicular to bourbon street, each at his or her own little foldaway table, big homemade signs that read each one's name and art of choice. tarot readings, palm readings, mystic crystal readings. no prices. i picked mystic crystal, of course. it was drizzly out, i was already wet and tired of the drunkards and bored. i had on something totally bland, a white sweater and boot-cut jeans and boots, and i thought it was generally amusing, that i was about to be "read" by someone named madame melvine, who had to look away every fifteen or so seconds to yell at her little boy, who was standing nearby throwing stones at pigeons. name thirteen things you like to do: 1. read 2. write 3. analyze 4. share 5. kiss 6. laugh 7. dance (secretly) 8. scoff 9. withhold my judgments 10. tutor 11. succeed 12. wear pink the "mystic crystal" was this big seagreen thing, and she was handing it to me to squeeze, and at the same time staring at me very intently, and before i even got it in my hand, i.e. within four milliseconds of my sitting at her table, she went, "who's this man, first initial m?" blinking, i asked her to repeat herself. she did. i'm not someone who believes in this things, remember. i immediately checked my person to figure out where she'd gotten a clue from; was my cell phone open to his most recent text message? was i wearing his weird ankh pendant that kind of looks like an m, the backwards reason he bought it? neither. name twelve artists/bands you like. 1. the miles davis quintet 2. jamiroquai 3. piotr tchaikovsky 4. regina carter 5. 101 strings orchestra 6. jill scott 7. ella fitzgerald 8. the modern jazz quartet 9. dave matthews band 10. john coltrane 11. nicolai rimsky-korsakov 12. george gershwin i was bitchy about it. "i know a lot of guys whose names start with m," i said, and it was not a lie. she'd stopped looking at me by then and was gathering up a deck of cards with worn-out edges, but stopped and said, "no no, i mean the one who is"--jabbing me in the chest with one long, fake fingernail--"right here." name eleven friends: 1. marcus 2. chad 3. meg 4. tina 5. krystle 6. oduduwa 7. treesje 8. sean 9. melony 10. chris 11. marcha "oh," i said. "well. that one is, he's, yeah, i know him." i couldnt' remember the original question, and we were apparently moving on. "shuffle these and choose six," she said, handing me the cards. from what little i'd gleaned about tarot readings, i knew there was a slight possibility of my drawing a card with a skull on it or something; between that and the marcus thing, i was ready to get up, but it was early, i didn't have anywhere to go, and i figured she'd charge me full price anyway, for a half-reading. so i pulled. i don't remember which six i pulled. name ten songs you like: 1. "lullaby of birdland," george shearing 2. "high times," jamiroquai 3. "discotheque," u2 4. "django," the modern jazz quartet 5. "gotta get up," jill scott 6. "after the dance," marvin gaye 7. "candles in the wind," melanie 8. "i'll remember april," erroll garner 9. "the thong song," sisqo 10. "lotus blossom," billy strayhorn anyway, she was yammering on very accurately about marcus, which i knew was more or less a parlor trick, but i was rapt anyway. about what i wanted to do and be for him, about my worries for and about him, et cetera, none of which, she said, mattered, because--here she flipped over a card featuring, i think, a japanese woman in a lavender kimono--"don't you worry, darling, he's gonna propose. now." on and on she went, with me not listening anymore. the gist of her spiel, what major components i remember, were centered on that, and on a general reassurance that i would be okay. i'd turn out fine, not fail at everything i touched, and so on. name nine animals you like: 1. cockatiels 2. siberian tiger cubs 3. emperor penguin chicks 4. elephant calves 5. baby giraffes 6. panthers 7. giraffes 8. surinam toads (just kidding!) 9. trapdoor spiders on the phone that night with marcus, i babbled on for a long time about how cool it was for us to finally be in the same time zone. a noticeably long time. he noticed. "what else happened today?" he asked, carefully, because he's gotten more than a couple of ugly answers to that question. i told him about it (skipping the part where she bitchslapped me with a forty-five dollar charge at the end), fully expecting him to be like, "oh yeah, those things are crap, don't take it too seriously." he didn't. name eight things you've done this month: 1. tutored my ass off 2. wrote a million papers 3. portrayed a psychoanalytical expert in our class presentation of the scarlet letter 4. slept through the entire plane ride to baltimore 5. slept in my own bed, finally 6. slept late every morning till monday 7. visited my old high school 8. bought and mailed lots of presents he said, "wow. did she say how long i have?" or something. we both giggled. i threw in the quick and obvious disclaimer, "i don't even believe in that bullshit, i probably blushed like a maniac when she said 'm' and she just ran with it, don't worry, hey, maybe you could propose to take me to the phantom of the opera when we get back to atlanta..." and he listened, and smiled, audibly, and said, "well, either way, you should write that down. what happened today." then the i love yous, and then we hung up. name seven shows you like: 1. "the x-files" 2. "the apprentice" 3. "er" 4. "passions" 5. "roseanne" 6. "best week ever" 7. "cold case" i didn't write it down, exactly. i referenced it once, in a letter to him; period, the end. shannon, she is not stupid. and she knows how that man's mind works. name six ice cream flavors you like: 1. vanilla 2. vanilla bean 3. dulce de leche 4. cake batter 5. oatmeal cookie batter 6. sweet cream it worked out last night, with the phone call. nothing happened that wasn't supposed to. i slept well, and dreamed about that, the above, new orleans and madame melvine, possibly (probably) because of ernie and jodi. i had started another entry, shortly after i found out about them, about proposals in general, this long string of underdeveloped thoughts, and then i realized that, having nothing to actually say on the subject, i should just tell a story. that story. and now there it is, it's written down, as per the request of its unwitting foil. name five names you like: 1. miles 2. sheadon 3. naima 4. matthew 5. cade also in new orleans, we kept seeing this guy in a giant trenchcoat and galoshes, shuffling endlessly along the sidewalks. my mom eventually named him "mr. shuffles," and he became the subject of a lot of freak-you-out stories once we got home. "chad, if you don't take the trash out right now, mr. shuffles is gonna make a home in the bottom of the can and attack you when you're least expecting it." stuff like that. name four foods you like: 1. thai fried rice with scallions and egg 2. pesto cavatappi with mushrooms, tofu and bean sprouts 3. mozzarella, tomato and basil sandwiches 4. steamed broccoli mom had a random meltdown, recently, watching a special about the katrina damages, saying how awful it was that mr. shuffles probably got washed away with the rest of the upended community. name three of your favorite colors: 1. green 2. purple 3. white gold chad countered that no, mr. shuffles was probably used to relocating at a moment's notice. "don't worry, mom. if anybody made it out safely, he did." name two things you're going to do now: 1. put on some clothes 2. wrap presents and listen to jazz "yeah," i said. "which means he's waiting for you under your bed right now. don't worry." name one person you love deeply: 1. marcus i'm a jerk. |
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