robot talk. bleepity bloop.
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2004-04-15 05:55:23 (UTC)

rather be dancing

what if police officers pulled us over often, and instead of
giving us tickets for speeding, they would write them up if
we answered trivia questions incorrectly. But they wouldn't
be regular old trivia questions that dad used to ask off of
the trivia pursuit cards in the ice cream store. Instead
they'd be about current events, and a few spelling words
thrown in there just for fun. We could all use a little
more emphasis on spelling. It's the only thing I won't let
Microsoft Word take from me.

In second grade, I came in third place in the bee because i
forgot to include the silent "n" in autumn. Instead Sydney
Hall took second for spelling cabin correctly. CABIN! i
told her I'd let her win and she bought it. But she
probably didn't because I wouln't have. I'm not so good at
"buying things" unless you count shoes.

Recently, I realized that I like to make up stories about
people without even noticing that I do it. Now, I dont mean
stories about how they sleep around and how they buy new
sheets every week because they're afraid of the dust mites.
I mean stories about their lives, and mostly about their
futures. These I share with no one-especially since I
didn't even realize I was doing it.

One story was about a girl in my Marc LEverette class with
blonde hair and freckles. She lived in a white house with a
black mailbox and she had two cats that liked to sit in the
window and make fun of people when they walked by (in cat
language, of course.) The girl didn't make a fuss over
things because she knew they'd turn out okay. She would
grow up to become a nurse practitioner and she would never
complain about wearing a lab coat every day.

Somehow, I ended up at a party that this girl threw and I
realized that she didn't have two cats and her apartment was
very messy. SHe had a lot of friends that didn't understand
my jokes and said things like "im so happy to see you" to
people that they werent happy to see. I wonder why people
do that. MY mom says Im transluscent and people always know
when I dont like them. Anyway, the girl turned out to be a
failure and I was disappointed because the life I'd imagined
for her was so much better than the one she was living. And
I thought that maybe I should tell her so that I can help
her produce the made up life. Or maybe I'll just become a
cop and give her tickets for answering trivia questions wrong.

A boy that I made up stories about also proved to be a
failure. He is always smiling so I imagined him with a girl
that smiled too-a girl with a nice haircut. I saw him
driving one of those big trucks that say G.O.D. on the side,
and I see him being really proud of it-you know, being god
and all.

Today I saw him with his girlfriend-also a member of MArc
Leverette's class who complains about....everything and
brags about the cool things she gets to do as a jew. She
doesnt smile a lot.

Now he'll never be GOD.

The only one I don't have pegged these days is myself. I
wish someone would make up a story and whisper it in my ear
anonymously. That way I wouldn't feel like I was watching
myself in a film, and screaming "What the fuck were you
thinking?" to my character often. That's not low self
esteem talking-thats just a poorly written script-filled
with bad actors and people who aren't what they appeared to
be. People dressed as cops asking stupid questions. And
people who couldn't spell "exciting" and win first
place-like andrew shelley did in 1987.