Last night, Boy-Creature was flipping a silver dollar his grandfather gave him and it came up tails nine times in a row. It made me want to watch "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead" again, so I rented it, and "Little Miss Sunshine," because as much as I hate to admit it, I still haven't seen it. Boy-Creature watched Ros and Guil with me, because I wouldn't stop going on and on about how good it is.
Five minutes into the movie, he was asking all sorts of questions. He kept asking me to explain, and then when I couldn't, he accused me of not knowing what was going on in the movie. I kept telling him I did, but it was too hard to explain. We watched the whole thing, and he still couldn't figure out what was going on.
I love absurdism.
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There's a theater here that does nothing but musicals, all year long. I signed up to be on their audition email list. They're doing Oklahoma next year. If we're still here, and I audition, it'll be the third time in my life I audition for Oklahoma. The first time I did, I played Dream Laurey. It was in high school. I wouldn't expect to get as big a role this time around.
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So far this week, I've bought two journals, a new fountain pen and converter, a bottle of pretty mauve ink for the pen, and two skeins of yarn. Did I mention I got a raise?
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This guy I knew in high school posted a Facebook status tonight that said he was just killing time until the weekend. I commented that he basically just described the whole point of my day job. I hate the mornings when I show up a little bit late to work, because then I have to stay a little bit later. I'm there eight hours, no matter when those eight hours start, but the later those eight hours are, the slower time seems to go.
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Every time I see someone in a movie or on TV who puts on their Chucks to go for a jog, I shudder at the thought of what that will do to their knees and lower back. I wear Chucks ninety percent of the time, but I have a very nice pair of Adidas, in case I once again get the rare urge to go for a jog. Shut up, I jog sometimes. Just because I could sew the ribbons on a pair of toe shoes with my eyes closed doesn't mean I never jog.
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Boy-Creature was all excited to show me the new Harry Potter trailer when I got home from work today, but I ruined his fun by telling him that I saw it two weeks ago when I saw "Inkheart" on a Sunday-afternoon whim. It seems like I find out about things before he does a lot. I ruin his fun a lot.
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A friend of mine from college called me the other day to ask, "Where's that one used bookstore? I quit my job at Hollister and I need a new one." Considering the rest of us didn't want her to take the job at Hollister in the first place (my favorite reaction was when our senior reading advisor asked, "But what will you do with your soul?"), I was proud of her. I also thought it was marvelously intrepid of her to just up and quit the job she didn't like. I can't tell you how many times I've thought of doing that, but I'm the responsible one, and I will probably never quit a job before having a solid, satisfactory backup. There are many areas of my life where I'm more than happy to be intrepid. Not knowing how I'll cover bottles of ink and piles of books and yarn stashing is not one of them.
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It's finally Friday tomorrow. I plan on celebrating by going to my favorite coffeehouse and scribbling in a notebook. Wish me luck. Maybe I'll end up with a short story, or something.
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