Stop in the name of love!
The really weird thing about college is that there's so much more happening here to write about. In the suburbs the idea is to have something of an extended community. As a result no one has any idea who anyone else is. I'm living in a residential part of Seattle now, but it's still quite obviously city, and therefore much more to interact with. I could tell you how I might go to hunt duck on Capitol Hill with the gay boi from ProPrac next Saturday or how I'm going to discuss growing up in stifling Christian schools with the fellow vegetarian over copious amounts of tofu this weekend, how I watched Firefly with a girl shorter and older than I am, how I am somewhat perpetuating the "lesbians like powertools" stereotype as I help to build the stage, how, this weekend, Peri and I stood by while we watched a drunk homeless man get picked up by paramedics and sent off to detox. Sure, I could.
But I guess now I might as well settle for saying that I signed up for NaNo (for some incomprehensible reason, as I have one idea for a plot and one idea for a character, and they are in no way compatible) and that I wish I was in love right now.
It doesn't even have to be with a person. I wish I was in love with a sonnet or a flower or a movie right now, even a notebook or an idea or a pair of good shoes. I feel like I need a little extra love in my life today.
But I guess now I might as well settle for saying that I signed up for NaNo (for some incomprehensible reason, as I have one idea for a plot and one idea for a character, and they are in no way compatible) and that I wish I was in love right now.
It doesn't even have to be with a person. I wish I was in love with a sonnet or a flower or a movie right now, even a notebook or an idea or a pair of good shoes. I feel like I need a little extra love in my life today.