Lots of things
I AM GOING TO PARIS!!!! Wait, I need just one more. I AM GOING TO PARIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe just once more, GOING TO PARIS! TO PARIS PARIS PARIS PARIS PARIS!!! Um, yay! PARIS! I swear I'm done now.
PARIS!
The world is smiling on me, folks. Not only has my job situation changed for the better in the blink of an eye without me even having to do anything proactively, I'm going to Paris. Happiness is so comfy. I wish I could live here all the time. Oh, and maybe it also helps that I'm totally twitterpated with this novelist who says and writes me the most wonderful things as well as wrapping me up in his kisses and taking me to another world when I'm standing right there on 14th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues. If I could just be here. Just here. All the time. I swear I'd always be smiling.
Okay, I know that others' happiness is obnoxious, so I'll move onto other topics.
I went home after work yesterday and passed the f*$# out immediately. This sometimes happens to me when I least expect it. I'll be walking along, completely fine, maybe a little cranky, then all of a sudden THUMP...I'm out for the count. Anyway, it happened yesterday and as a result I experienced one of the weirdest dreams. My grandfather had commissioned a bell to be installed on the lower tip of Manhattan. It was a grandiose affair. When I saw it, it was surrounded by ropes and flags and seemed to be on a man-made island of its own just offshore from bustling New York City. The bell was rather small and shaped like the liberty bell. Mind you, a grandiose affair would be completely atypical for my grandfather to become part of. He was a simple farmer in Wyoming without any money or aspirations toward greatness besides growing the
perfect tomato. I disliked him almost as much as I dislike tomato's.
So my grandpa made some stupid joke that made no sense and reminded me of this old joke he used to tell when I was younger. The dream joke was something along the lines of, "How do you know when the bell's about to ring?"..."The guy pulls the little chord and the people gather around." What can I say? He wasn't a funny man. We sat and admired the thing for a minute and then headed toward it. Once we got closer there was a whale viewing area. It was a full half-circle of glass that allowed one to look below the water. We walked down and say the most varied and unbelievable display of animals I've ever seen. Even in a dream. There were humpback whales, orcas, blue whales, right whales, sperm whales, orcas, dolphins and SHARKS! I know not all of these are whales...what can I say, dreamland has its own version of reality. Somehow we passed through the glass and found ourselves swimming with all of these creatures. The sharks were cartoon sharks so we weren't afraid at first. Actually, I'm not generally afraid of the things. I went to SeaCamp when I was younger and wanted to be a Marine Biologist. They taught us that sharks were
nothing to fear. I've actually swam with tiger sharks before. Afraid of bees but not of sharks, hmmmmm. Anyway, the cartoon sharks started getting restless and I thought to myself, "Man, these Americans have no concern for our safety. They just let us in here without telling us that these sharks were mean. Parisians would never do such a thing!" I hid under an anchor and thought angrily about Americans until I woke up. End dream sequence.
On the way to work today a girl got onto the E train at 34th Street with a copy of The Bell Jar and sat right next to me. Now see, I've been banned from reading that book. She held it in a way that was conducive to me reading over her shoulder and I couldn't help myself. She was in the part where Esther was watching all the children in her neighborhood from her window. I LOVE that part. It actually had a starring role in my thesis. Loaded with double imagery. I want to read that book again, but I want to read MY copy (by that I don't mean that I found reading it over someone elses shoulder unsatisfactory...I liked it...I just mean that I want the copy that I've marked all up).
There was an old couple who got on at 42nd. They were too far away for me to offer my seat so I just watched them from afar. The man was supporting his wife during the bumps and starts of the train. I was listening to "Don't Panic" by Coldplay that has that line, "we live in a beautiful world". I couldn't help but agree. We live in a world where old men hold their wives through the bumps and young women read "The Bell Jar". We live in a world where we can swim with sharks or dream in the afternoon. We also live in a world where men get mad at 25 year old girls for not giving them their spare change and young people sleep on the sidewalk. It's all beautiful in its way, I just wish it was all like that sweet man and his wife.
Awwe, shucks.
PARIS!
The world is smiling on me, folks. Not only has my job situation changed for the better in the blink of an eye without me even having to do anything proactively, I'm going to Paris. Happiness is so comfy. I wish I could live here all the time. Oh, and maybe it also helps that I'm totally twitterpated with this novelist who says and writes me the most wonderful things as well as wrapping me up in his kisses and taking me to another world when I'm standing right there on 14th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues. If I could just be here. Just here. All the time. I swear I'd always be smiling.
Okay, I know that others' happiness is obnoxious, so I'll move onto other topics.
I went home after work yesterday and passed the f*$# out immediately. This sometimes happens to me when I least expect it. I'll be walking along, completely fine, maybe a little cranky, then all of a sudden THUMP...I'm out for the count. Anyway, it happened yesterday and as a result I experienced one of the weirdest dreams. My grandfather had commissioned a bell to be installed on the lower tip of Manhattan. It was a grandiose affair. When I saw it, it was surrounded by ropes and flags and seemed to be on a man-made island of its own just offshore from bustling New York City. The bell was rather small and shaped like the liberty bell. Mind you, a grandiose affair would be completely atypical for my grandfather to become part of. He was a simple farmer in Wyoming without any money or aspirations toward greatness besides growing the
perfect tomato. I disliked him almost as much as I dislike tomato's.
So my grandpa made some stupid joke that made no sense and reminded me of this old joke he used to tell when I was younger. The dream joke was something along the lines of, "How do you know when the bell's about to ring?"..."The guy pulls the little chord and the people gather around." What can I say? He wasn't a funny man. We sat and admired the thing for a minute and then headed toward it. Once we got closer there was a whale viewing area. It was a full half-circle of glass that allowed one to look below the water. We walked down and say the most varied and unbelievable display of animals I've ever seen. Even in a dream. There were humpback whales, orcas, blue whales, right whales, sperm whales, orcas, dolphins and SHARKS! I know not all of these are whales...what can I say, dreamland has its own version of reality. Somehow we passed through the glass and found ourselves swimming with all of these creatures. The sharks were cartoon sharks so we weren't afraid at first. Actually, I'm not generally afraid of the things. I went to SeaCamp when I was younger and wanted to be a Marine Biologist. They taught us that sharks were
nothing to fear. I've actually swam with tiger sharks before. Afraid of bees but not of sharks, hmmmmm. Anyway, the cartoon sharks started getting restless and I thought to myself, "Man, these Americans have no concern for our safety. They just let us in here without telling us that these sharks were mean. Parisians would never do such a thing!" I hid under an anchor and thought angrily about Americans until I woke up. End dream sequence.
On the way to work today a girl got onto the E train at 34th Street with a copy of The Bell Jar and sat right next to me. Now see, I've been banned from reading that book. She held it in a way that was conducive to me reading over her shoulder and I couldn't help myself. She was in the part where Esther was watching all the children in her neighborhood from her window. I LOVE that part. It actually had a starring role in my thesis. Loaded with double imagery. I want to read that book again, but I want to read MY copy (by that I don't mean that I found reading it over someone elses shoulder unsatisfactory...I liked it...I just mean that I want the copy that I've marked all up).
There was an old couple who got on at 42nd. They were too far away for me to offer my seat so I just watched them from afar. The man was supporting his wife during the bumps and starts of the train. I was listening to "Don't Panic" by Coldplay that has that line, "we live in a beautiful world". I couldn't help but agree. We live in a world where old men hold their wives through the bumps and young women read "The Bell Jar". We live in a world where we can swim with sharks or dream in the afternoon. We also live in a world where men get mad at 25 year old girls for not giving them their spare change and young people sleep on the sidewalk. It's all beautiful in its way, I just wish it was all like that sweet man and his wife.
Awwe, shucks.