Straight No Chaser

Hot

will (the neighbor with tourette's) promised he'd bring in dunkin donuts this morning, and showed up with chicken salad subs instead. still generous, because he of course didn't have to bring anything, but kind of a disappointment to be handed chicken salad when i'd been waiting on a glazed donut. plus he'd ordered chicken salad with hot peppers, having no way of knowing that i have no tolerance for spicy food. i was simperingly gracious as always, thank you so much, you didn't have to, let me pay you back (which weirdly he wouldn't let me do, even though that had been our agreement with the donuts), making it all that much more embarrassing when i took a bite and turned into a human volcano. zero tolerance. my eyes streamed tears and i coughed violently for ten long minutes, that much i know, plus by his report my face turned the color of one of the jalapeños i eventually dug out. how embarrassing, to eat a gifted sandwich and then all but barf it back up.

margaretty meg. i was totally not being sarcastic when i thanked meg for her gift point donation last night. those twelve gift points were all she had, and all she's ever going to have, most likely, so they were, in fact, exceedingly generous. anyway, she and i finally got to hang out last night, after a couple of abortive attempts (marcus and i hung out with her for a bit while he was here but then i hadn't seen her since), and i was remembering, as we sat at friendly's eating terrible food and delicious ice cream, how in twelfth grade i had this horrible hangup about looking people in the eye when i spoke to them. i was one of those teenagers who always wanted to cover up the mirror so i didn't have to look at myself every day, and i figured other people felt the same way about my face--i wasn't going to burden even tolerant friends by staring them right in the eyes while we held our conversations. i'm probably not that much better now...i still break eye contact sometimes, even with marcus, and i worry about things like standing too close and whatever, the usual invasions of personal space, but it's so much better now. we actually had a conversation while we sat at friendly's, something we used to always do but which has slowly been replaced by movies and other distractions (my fault, because when i see a good movie, i always want to share). we saw these adorable twin babies, cute and charismatic, and they brightened the experience tenfold. we like babies a lot.

meg has very curly, very blond hair, and it's been said that when we talk to each other, we sing. i think she talks that way to everyone, though. i definitely don't. aaron would like her very much, i think, as do most people.

afterward, at my house, we hung out on my bed and watched "don juan demarco." (we are quite a rowdy pair on a thursday night, har.) hencetoforth i absolutely give up on finding a johnny depp movie that meg likes. or any movie, for that matter. which is okay, it means more time for conversation (not that that's even an issue during the school year, when she's in new york and i'm in atlanta), and it's just futile, probably.

has anyone seen "don juan demarco"? i'm sure it's not going to go down in the cinematic annals as a modern classic or anything, even though it did spawn "when you love a woman," but i am constantly surprised at how beautiful and effective it actually is. marlon brando is a little depressing, but johnny never is, and faye is lovely, and the score is beyond magical. there's this one little riff that they capture and repeat again and again, an eight-note theme that actually made me pull out my guitar and play it for the first time in...months. spanish guitar may or may not play a large part in the atmosphere on the island, i haven't decided yet. anyway, it's very much a concentrated "arabian nights," which means automatic points, and it reminds me of something highly evolved said once about retreating into her own personal mythology--i want to be the kind of writer who does that. not who goes schizophrenic, totally loses sight of reality and needs medication to find her way back to the real world. just the kind who is so into her creations that they take on the feel of reality. not these clunky things riddled with the obvious flaws of fiction. reality, rearranged.

unfortunately, i'm a little too good at talking myself out of retreats like that. but we're going to the beach on sunday, and staying for seven days. typically that's good for getting back to basics. sleep, wake up, eat, wander around looking at pretty jewelry, call marcus...five activities that do not consume the entirety of twenty-four hours daily, so everything that's left over is writing time. or was last year. i don't think i even packed a bathing suit.

oh yeah, and i just read that some twenty-four-year-old from upcounty took a twelve-year-old to canada to marry her, at her parents' consent. god bless the state of maryland. so, that's that. a survey, because i know you love them, and because i'm procrastinating on finishing the olive section:

1. what's the last thing you ate?
an oats and honey granola bar that is, in fact, in my mouth right now.

2. what's the last dream you remember?
pregnant by marcus again, running across a "west side story" set dodging the pursuit of my high school newspaper sponsor.

3. who's the last person you hugged?
marcus.

4. who's the last person you kissed?
marcus.

5. what's the last show you watched?
an episode of "passions" two weeks ago.

6. when's the last time you were angry?
really angry? rarely happens, but i did get rather pissed at a response to a very carefully worded review i wrote...among other things, i hate to have my comprehension skills questioned.

7. what's the last thing you smelled?
thanks to the jalapeños, i can smell everything with crystalline clarity. for instance, today jim smells like melted butter.

8. what's the last thing you put on?
the silver hoop that fell out of my ear this morning.

9. where's the last place you drove?
to work.

10. who's the last person who called you?
mom, to remind me for the millionth time about a dentist's appointment that i need to make before school.

11. who's the first person on your friends list?
what friends list? my buddy list? it depends who's online, but right now it's probably marcus, because everyone else is at work.

12. what's the first thing you said this morning?
"oh shit."

13. what's the first thing you do when you get in the shower?
get wet.

14. who's the first name in your phone book/contact list?
alexa, but averi is first on the speed dial.

15. the first time you had sex, how old were you?
don't feel like repeating myself.

16. what do you put on first when you get dressed?
lotion.

17. where was your first job?
"cup and cone ice cream scoopery," eighth grade.

18. what are your parents' names?
monice and bruce.

19. what are you watching or listening to, if anything?
fucking jim's fucking radio, which blasts soft rock all day. ordinarily i like soft rock, but i really can't take any more coldplay.

20. what would you rather be doing right now?
kissing marcus, or anything else that's better than freezing to death at a desk (which most things are).

21. what's outside your window?
since the last move, the window is a thing of the past. outside the closest window, however, is a giant raincloud.

22. what's in the fridge?
other people's food.

23. what's on the nearest table?
melinda notes to the right, open tote bag to the left, and behind me, my phone struggling feebly to charge, even though its charging port is more or less shot. i've got it propped up on the edge of a broken rockwell phone.

24. what color are the shoes you're wearing/wore last?
white flip-flops. quickly losing interest here.

25. what's the last thing you made?
a baby.

26. what's the worst part of today?
al roker.

27. what's your middle name?
trouble or danger, take your pick.

28. what's the last non-food or drink item you purchased?
an uzi. look out, jim.

29. what's nice about the last person who posted this?
she is a twin, and she's really into music, and she gives props to the animated batman series that would have otherwise remained a thing of the past.