(no subject)
I have mixed feelings about the whole Thanksgiving thing. It isn't new. It stopped being new years ago. It's a family holiday and even though I have some really great friends here it's not the same.
I miss the noise. The fuss, the shouting and the nearness. It isn't that it doesn't get noisy here, because it does but it's a different sort of noise. The kind of noise that makes me wax philosophical which is nothing but annoying.
Swinging back and forth on the swings, I am trying to attempt the perfect peel of an orange. A singular strip, twisting neatly and kind of prettily like I could hang it on a string and call it art.
It wouldn't be art. I do math and science. Art might exist in numbers and patterns and the song of the universe, but it isn't something that people hang in galleries and gawk at.
My fingers squish into the pulp of the orange and juice slides down my wrist.
"Yuck," I stick out my tongue and look for a place to wipe the juice. At least I haven't ruined the peel twist. That would have sucked.
Holding the whole twisted peel in between my fingers, I swing back and forth and bounce the peel up and down. Now what am I going to do with it besides acting like a five year old.
"Eh, probably nothing."
dated to later in the morning. all manner of ts apply.
I miss the noise. The fuss, the shouting and the nearness. It isn't that it doesn't get noisy here, because it does but it's a different sort of noise. The kind of noise that makes me wax philosophical which is nothing but annoying.
Swinging back and forth on the swings, I am trying to attempt the perfect peel of an orange. A singular strip, twisting neatly and kind of prettily like I could hang it on a string and call it art.
It wouldn't be art. I do math and science. Art might exist in numbers and patterns and the song of the universe, but it isn't something that people hang in galleries and gawk at.
My fingers squish into the pulp of the orange and juice slides down my wrist.
"Yuck," I stick out my tongue and look for a place to wipe the juice. At least I haven't ruined the peel twist. That would have sucked.
Holding the whole twisted peel in between my fingers, I swing back and forth and bounce the peel up and down. Now what am I going to do with it besides acting like a five year old.
"Eh, probably nothing."
dated to later in the morning. all manner of ts apply.