I'll be your answer.
Asia's grandfather had a stroke on Thursday. I tried comforting her when she cried but I think I'm bad at that. So I made her laugh instead. Then I had her play checkers. Wiping the board with someone's ass made her forget for a while.
Yesterday was inconsistent and at the end of it I became sick. For my mother's birthday, I made a lemon cake the way [this recipe said] the Greeks did/do. I made maraschino cherry icing, but it was a nauseating pink color that reminded me of bubble gum flavored medicine or that bubble gum flavored stuff the dentist puts on your teeth, so I used red food coloring to darken it. I didn't mean to entertain the thought of dropping some of my own blood into the icing.
Then came going to the movies with friends. Or "friends". Ahem. A 10 year old boy voiced his opinion on my hair, saying that there were too many colors. To humor him, I thanked him and promised to keep that in mind the next time I did my hair. He should have been satisfied, but he wasn't.
On the walk to the theater, people on the sidewalk stared. Drivers in their cars stared. Couples dining in restaurants stared. The ushers at the movie theater stared. One of them followed and sat a couple of rows behind me. Its one thing to be absently aware of all that. Its quite another to have it all pointed out to you.
Bruce Almighty was funnie. Then it ended and all the laughter was forced. We weaved our way through drunk crowds home. I saw a tiny dog with panic in its eyes as it tried to avoid getting stepped on by all the alcoholics on the street and it made me angry, so I raised my voice above everyone else's and said that I hoped the dog wasn't lost. Its owner, standing an arm's length away, glared at me before scooping up his dog and storming across the street. Asshole.
We went to sit in this quiet park behind my apartment building and I rolled around in it's filth and maybe some kid's urine. Tiffany insisted the scars on my upper left arm were old. I told her they weren't.
Yesterday was inconsistent and at the end of it I became sick. For my mother's birthday, I made a lemon cake the way [this recipe said] the Greeks did/do. I made maraschino cherry icing, but it was a nauseating pink color that reminded me of bubble gum flavored medicine or that bubble gum flavored stuff the dentist puts on your teeth, so I used red food coloring to darken it. I didn't mean to entertain the thought of dropping some of my own blood into the icing.
Then came going to the movies with friends. Or "friends". Ahem. A 10 year old boy voiced his opinion on my hair, saying that there were too many colors. To humor him, I thanked him and promised to keep that in mind the next time I did my hair. He should have been satisfied, but he wasn't.
On the walk to the theater, people on the sidewalk stared. Drivers in their cars stared. Couples dining in restaurants stared. The ushers at the movie theater stared. One of them followed and sat a couple of rows behind me. Its one thing to be absently aware of all that. Its quite another to have it all pointed out to you.
Bruce Almighty was funnie. Then it ended and all the laughter was forced. We weaved our way through drunk crowds home. I saw a tiny dog with panic in its eyes as it tried to avoid getting stepped on by all the alcoholics on the street and it made me angry, so I raised my voice above everyone else's and said that I hoped the dog wasn't lost. Its owner, standing an arm's length away, glared at me before scooping up his dog and storming across the street. Asshole.
We went to sit in this quiet park behind my apartment building and I rolled around in it's filth and maybe some kid's urine. Tiffany insisted the scars on my upper left arm were old. I told her they weren't.