(no subject)
I had a little quest yesterday, just a little something to make sure my day didn't slide into obscure nothingness. I had planned (is my building on fire? what is that obnoxious noise) planned to watch the end of the baseball game in a bar somewhere (it was the 8th inning, tied at 1) return the movies I had picked out from the movie fan (say anything and bananas) and go by everything is illuminated, as I had finished virgin suicides the day before (mediochre). I got downtown and had to park behind the coffeehouse as, pride of our community, corn fest was going on this weekend. corn fest is a local cultural phenomenon where someone sets up a tent downtown to hand out boiled and buttered ears of this years harvest for a 25 cents. Also downtown, local businesses set up tents along the street selling bracelets and paintings, ice cream, corn dogs, while the middle aged white guy blues ensemble jams on some radio station-sponsored stage before a thin hemicircle of onlookers, in which 2 or 3 elderly couples step dance around.
so, behind the coffeehouse. I step into maggies to get a beer and watch the ninth inning (the vile bartender was a cardinal's fan, and cackled in delight when bennet hit a game-winning single off of novoa in the bottom half. i muttered something, finished the guinness, and sulked out of the gaudy wooden bar.) popped into the coffeehouse to show a little patronage in return for the parking spot, and lo and behold, Caro was there at a table accross from Vic and Saul, funny old men (both older than me, that is. they certainly aren't of a similar enough age to be lumped together as such.) i mentioned to her my plan. "everything is illuminated, who do i know who's reading that? Megan? I think so" "I don't know, I don't know megan. my friends keep raving about it, and i do so hate to be outread by my friends" "you should run over to babbit's, robert's there at their '5 dollar per linear foot sale' right now" "I doubt they'd have it, its pretty new" as is customary then, i start to get accustomed to the cushy black booth fabric, the amateur paintings and photos on the wall, the radiohead and beck music over the stereo (which stuffy robert objected to many a time once he got back with his linear foot of literature.)
and so it was that i spent my afternoon at the coffeehouse. sympathetic to my constant and apathetic battle with life, caro circled listings in the editorials for me (and copied them on a sheet of lined paper that's now sitting next to me, refusing to let me walk out with a section of newspaper "that shit irritates me" "but you already marked all over the page" "doesn't matter, it stays here") and robert tried to make the concept of grad school look less daunting "it's not too late to apply for 2007, just look around online, figure out what it is you're looking for and see what programs offer it"
caro's mom popped in for the obvious reason (though she didn't admit it) of continuing to harp on caro for the finer points of an argument they had had that morning. "oh you're stuff will fit fine in that room, and now you're burning bridges by being bitter about it" "we hadn't decided who gets what room, then I show up, and she had taken the big one!" "but she did the legwork" "what legwork? they desperately needed a third, I'm doing them a favor and she pulls this crap" "oh now you know you'd be saying the same thing i-f" "stop, I'm done talking about this" "the same thing if it was you-" "we're done, let's stop talking about this" "-if you had done that work-" "Ma! Stop! It's over!" "you're always like this when I'm right" "stop talking!" "you know i'm right" "we're done! I don't want to stay on this topic of conversation!" "you can't just admit I'm right." etc, etc, etc. It was a spectacularly juvenile exchange. There were times when it looked like it was over for stretched of 15, 20, maybe 40 minutes at one point, but caro's mom would creep back in with something to get the whole dialogue up and roaring again. i stayed there for too long, didn't buy the book (shouldn't be spending money on new books anyway) but did return the movies. 2 out of 3 isn't so bad, not with lofty aspirations like mine.
so, behind the coffeehouse. I step into maggies to get a beer and watch the ninth inning (the vile bartender was a cardinal's fan, and cackled in delight when bennet hit a game-winning single off of novoa in the bottom half. i muttered something, finished the guinness, and sulked out of the gaudy wooden bar.) popped into the coffeehouse to show a little patronage in return for the parking spot, and lo and behold, Caro was there at a table accross from Vic and Saul, funny old men (both older than me, that is. they certainly aren't of a similar enough age to be lumped together as such.) i mentioned to her my plan. "everything is illuminated, who do i know who's reading that? Megan? I think so" "I don't know, I don't know megan. my friends keep raving about it, and i do so hate to be outread by my friends" "you should run over to babbit's, robert's there at their '5 dollar per linear foot sale' right now" "I doubt they'd have it, its pretty new" as is customary then, i start to get accustomed to the cushy black booth fabric, the amateur paintings and photos on the wall, the radiohead and beck music over the stereo (which stuffy robert objected to many a time once he got back with his linear foot of literature.)
and so it was that i spent my afternoon at the coffeehouse. sympathetic to my constant and apathetic battle with life, caro circled listings in the editorials for me (and copied them on a sheet of lined paper that's now sitting next to me, refusing to let me walk out with a section of newspaper "that shit irritates me" "but you already marked all over the page" "doesn't matter, it stays here") and robert tried to make the concept of grad school look less daunting "it's not too late to apply for 2007, just look around online, figure out what it is you're looking for and see what programs offer it"
caro's mom popped in for the obvious reason (though she didn't admit it) of continuing to harp on caro for the finer points of an argument they had had that morning. "oh you're stuff will fit fine in that room, and now you're burning bridges by being bitter about it" "we hadn't decided who gets what room, then I show up, and she had taken the big one!" "but she did the legwork" "what legwork? they desperately needed a third, I'm doing them a favor and she pulls this crap" "oh now you know you'd be saying the same thing i-f" "stop, I'm done talking about this" "the same thing if it was you-" "we're done, let's stop talking about this" "-if you had done that work-" "Ma! Stop! It's over!" "you're always like this when I'm right" "stop talking!" "you know i'm right" "we're done! I don't want to stay on this topic of conversation!" "you can't just admit I'm right." etc, etc, etc. It was a spectacularly juvenile exchange. There were times when it looked like it was over for stretched of 15, 20, maybe 40 minutes at one point, but caro's mom would creep back in with something to get the whole dialogue up and roaring again. i stayed there for too long, didn't buy the book (shouldn't be spending money on new books anyway) but did return the movies. 2 out of 3 isn't so bad, not with lofty aspirations like mine.