hi hi hello, you're boring. DUH!

Jun 24, 2006 16:06



Punctured bicycle
On a hillside desolate

When in this charming car
This charming man

Why pamper life's complexities
When the leather runs smooth
On the passenger seat ?

I would go out tonight

But I haven't got a stitch to wear

- Morrissey

This entry has been sitting on my computer for days. I keep adding onto it and leaving it again - so when it says 'today' or 'yesterday' - it's not really talking about today or yesterday, I don't even know when it's talking about.

I feel like I should stop getting bored with my own writing and finish.

so here:

The dog is whining.

That deep, breathy whining that comes out his nose in grating high-pitched whimpers. He wants someone to take him outside for a walk but I am cleaning up my computer so I can use Adobe Photoshop again and start drawing. I haven't been able to draw for the past few days because my computer is old and can't handle all the memory I'm using. I freed up a few hundred MB and it still wants more. I'm getting tired of giving.

The dog has been acting needy and mopey for days. Yesterday he was dancing around the whole house whimpering and barking hard at us to keep us from leaving. We were going to look at houses to buy. He could tell we were leaving and he jumped all over us crying and barking - he at least wanted to come. Finally Dad threw a chunk of roast beef into his bowl and that distracted him long enough for us to leave. He must have cried when he realized we'd gone on without him.

We saw three houses.

One was a beachfront with an immense view of the sound. The sky brooded with clouds and the waves rocked in violent curls - it was awful and glorious and beautiful to look at. But the house was small and smelled of piss. And it was crowded into a whole row of small beachfronts. Step out on the deck and lean out far enough you could be ticketed for trespassing. It was too open and social. I've never been one for that.

The couple selling the house had a large wooden chest in their room with a very old book on it. It may be the oldest book I've ever handled, I can't remember. It was thick and latched closed on the sides. An old German Bible from 1797. The text was thin and delicate and the pages worn skinny and yellow.

Another house we saw sat cutely next to a thin sliver of pond. Several of the rooms sunk down into the ground and the back yard was perfect for keeping horses. It was stylish and big with expensive flooring and large windows. All over were rich oranges and browns in the wall paint and the chunky mediterranean tiles. There was a guest house above the garage and a pretty Greek-ish fountain woman spilling water all over herself just next to the driveway.

It was pretty and trendy and very rentable. Not beachfront, but still classy and catching.

I like the third house best.

The front porch groans up from the lawn in large white columns flocked by leafy vines - a grand, hilly lawn stretches out in front - a white picket fence laces the edges.

The rooms are immense and filled with light. Wooden floors and antique doorways, three fireplaces, a pair of paddleboats parked next to the lake, a white country kitchen with enough space to pamper a literal slew of line cooks. It's grand and white and it looks like it's been sprung from a Mark Twain novel. It seems like all the rooms connect to all the other rooms - all open with lofty ceilings and big lush furniture. There are two swings dangling from a large white frame in the backyard facing the lake. A fountain springs up from somewhere in the middle of the water. There is a ropeswing and a subtle dusting of lilypads and pond brush.

So we don't know if we're actually going to get any of them.

But we all liked the white house best.

I ran in Race for the Cure on Saturday. We didn't push ourselves excessively, and Rachel, Sarah, and I still managed to scrape by in under 40 minutes. It felt good to run next to the water on the bridge, next to my sisters. I love to run.

I finished a book yesterday. It's called The Lovely Bones and it's a bestseller. It wasn't that good, but I finished it out of the same morbid curiosity that led me to sit through an entire Hillary Duff movie. I just wanted to see what it was like - to see what happened and see how it happened. It had all the hallmarks of a bestseller - over-dramatized scenes, sexual affairs, hack-writer cliches, and overly descriptive sensationalism. It really was a good idea, just poorly executed. I'm disappointed that someone had a good idea, had the opportunity to make an artistic statement, but instead just wrote a story that would sell. There were all kinds of universal themes that could have been touched on - family, life, death, birth, love, sex, community, the government... so many opportunities to slip in and make the people really think. It was just a story, though. It was beautiful at times, but not beautiful enough to be beautiful just for beauty's sake. All the themes were skin-deep, spelled out and bare for any simple mind to tack onto. I suppose if it leaves the general population feeling enlightened, it's done something. It just wasn't whole in it's execution - bits and fragments of truth scattered inside dull drama - but nothing whole and elevating.

Maybe she doesn't know better.

I enjoyed reading it, it took me the better part of an entire day. I can't say I didn't like it.

And I've never written a bestseller.

not that I want to.

I'm the snobbiest girl.

I bought an Indian outfit. It's yellow and embroidered with small gold and white flowers. It's thin and slips on the skin like silk, but it's not silk. The store we went to had beautiful fabrics - embroidered, laced, silk, velvet, chiffon. Drunken reds, fluttering whites, deep golds - like an Arabian tent draped and running with patterns and textures sliding into each other seemlessly.

I am sitting in my room on my bed and it is hot outside. It's the first sunny day in what seems like weeks.

Yesterday was Summer Solstice. Jessie, Myke, and I drove the car up Cougar Mountain and parked to watch the sun set. We listened to Tears for Fears and Debussy and drank juiceboxes. Jessie and I took pictures with our cell phones and I climbed on the roof to feel tall and important. We left after I was bitten by several mosquitoes and the cold started edging in. The sun went down at 9:11.

I saw Brett and Megan yesterday. Megan is very happy lately. It makes me feel so good to see it.

Sarah graduated from high school a few days ago. I listened to the speeches and clapped hard when she walked down the steps, her diploma in one hand and a
'numbah one' in the other. I didn't get nostalgic. I didn't feel sad. I didn't feel old. I just felt happy for Sarah and hungry for miso salmon. We went to dinner and they were out of salmon. I got the halibut and gagged because the mashed potatoes reminded me of that one time I got food poisoning from the Olive Garden. I came home and fell asleep to Law and Order.

I am supposed to clean out the white car today. I am supposed to bring the little vaccuum and cleaning spray and drive out by myself to my old car.

It feels to me like cleaning up a dead body for a viewing. It's the same car, but really not, because it'll never drive again. Every time I think about cleaning it I'm filled with revulsion. I already said goodbye. I already sat in the front seat for that one last time, already flipped the lights, already rolled down the sunroof, already heard its last breath and held its hand as it passed on.

It's just a car.

Fuck.

I was going to go play in the creek today. I wanted someone to come with me, but everyone seems to have gotten too busy or too old for that sort of thing.

I miss California. I miss the beaches and the sun. I miss my foam pink flip flops with yellow straps, the bees hiding in the clover patches, the flat sidewalks meant for bike races. I miss all those stupid simple things that made being a child fun. Getting stuck in a tree, balancing on a cement curb, fogging the window with my breath and drawing short-lived dinosaurs with my fingertips, getting popsicle juice on my shirt and not even noticing.

Your grown-up-ness truly bores me.

I'd better take the dog out.

Why pamper life's complexities
When the leather runs smooth
On the passenger seat ?

I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear
This man said "It's gruesome
That someone so handsome should care"






That is the white house we looked at.




That is a view from the swing in the backyard.







Those are pictures of the old German bible.







The Summer Solstice Sunset.




philosophical Myke on Summer Solstice.




LOOK! Chewy Good.




Naomi and I went on a walk about a week ago to buy pocky sticks and suckers with long sticks. Those are the suckers.




Forest. Beautiful. I'm sad when I can't be around forest.




On a walk in the forest.

family, summer, pictures, childhood, houses, books

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