May. 15, 2003 - 22:18:09
Dear Vincent,
I'll trade you ten minor points for ten minor points. Then, theoretically, it will be an even exchange.
1. Sometimes I wish I was a photographer. Case in point: yesterday evening I went to an orchestra concert. Friends of mine (Sylvee and Brendon) were waiting to go on and were occupying themselves by trading instruments. Brendon held Sylvee's flute to her lips but left his fingers on the keys. Apart from sounding absolutely awful, it was a scene I would have liked to have a picture of. Sylvee was half laughing and blowing into her flute simultaneously. Brendon ceased playing the keys for a moment and snuck a glance at her as a half bemused smile painted his face. The effect was charming, something I could never do justice to in words, and hence sometimes I wish I was a photographer.
2. As I am writing this, I am at the library and Fred is sitting at the computer next to me reading what I'm writing. He thinks I don't know. Right now, I wish I had a camera to take a picture of Fred's face. He's blushing.
3. Your description of Brad, "who looks and acts very much like a Brad" called him to mind more clearly than your description did. For instance, I have known one too many arrogant Nicks in my life. What is it about the name Nick? Or, for example the name Shannon is absolutely loathsome in nature, as I've known too many Shannons who have promiscuous inclinations and act on them. However, Matt is a quiet but kind name. And Sarah is a synonym for shrewdness. Andy is a name for a funny guy with a dead pan face and wild hair.
4. Occasionally my name inspires me to take some kind of action. The most recent example, is that now that my hair is a it longer, I'm sporting something of a Meg Ryan 'do'. It's easy, because it's messy. Messy is a natural state, and easy is the bonus round.
5. I rediscovered something today. Do you remember, Vincent, those soda bottle tornado makers? Colored water inside one of two empty plastic soda bottles taped mouth to mouth? One of the kids on the street had one and it kept me transfixed for a decent bit of time. She had put glitter in it and the effect was astonishing. With the sun rebounding in painful little flashes off the glitter as it swirled I felt as if I was watching a riot of stars. The supernovas and the white dwarves going through the progressions that from this distance look so small. Born in trundles of gas and other refuse and living and flaring in blasts of fire that can turn anything into nothing in no time at all. Front row seats to the birth of a galaxy.
6. I'm never sure exactly how it makes me feel to know that the stars I'm looking at may not be there anymore.
7. These ten points seem to be more aptly titled "Odds and Ends" as they seem to lack the distinction or purpose of a point.
8. My most useless time of day is when I lock my door after leaving the house. I'm never entirely sure if I locked the door or not. It's such an automatic that I don't think about it, so I can't remember if I did. I end up checking multiple times to see if I locked it. Sometimes I have, sometimes I haven't. I remind myself, fairly consistently to remember to notice while I'm locking the door so I don't have to check it. The trouble is, I remind myself to remember to notice after I've had to check the door multiple times. By the next day... I don't remember to notice. This often occurs also, with the coffee pot. I have a rather outstanding memory in some ways- things I did, things people said, the way someone was, but not the door and not the coffee pot. Remembering to remind myself is a segue into another area of my life, how much sleep I get. Six hours. I suppose it's not enough, because in the morning I'm very tired. And every morning while hauling myself out of bed (or bounding) depending on the time and day, I promise myself I'll go to bed early tonight. By the time evening, and bedtime, arrives, I've lost the sense of urgency for sleep that seeped through my body in the morning. Having lost that sense, I reason, another half an hour wouldn't hurt. And I don't go to bed early. If I could only recapture that urgency....
9. I like the post office. When I was little, the 'Out of Town' and 'In Town' slots perplexed me. I didn't know there was an 'Out of Town.' I knew there was a place called Europe, but I strongly suspected that Europe was on another planet. When I was fourteen, I mailed my first 'Out of Town' letter. I mean it was my 'Out of Town' letter, not my mom's. I had been waiting, craving for someone to write to who was 'Out of Town' and not in the family. Kostantine was the teen activities coordinator on board the cruise my family had gone on that summer. (I won't tell you much because Konstantine is another story.) Konstantine was Russian and our cruise was his last week with the cruise line before he went back. I had never met a Russian before. I was thrilled. For a week Konstantine and I plunged into intense history discussion. He gave me a crash course in Russian history. When the cruise was over we told me to write to him if I wanted to. So, at the age of fourteen, my first 'Out of Town' letter was to Russia. It had about ten stamps on it because I wasn't sure if one was enough to take it all the way to Russia. Silly really, but I still think it's exciting to send 'Out of Town' letters. In this small town, most people try to ram themselves through the 'Out of Town' slot at some point or another. Some of them squeeze through and some of them never make it. For now I'm content that little parts of me are getting through the 'Out of Town' slot. But maybe not always.
10. Living in the city I'm sure you are farmiliar with crosswalk signals, Vincent? The little green man lights up when it's appropriate to walk. As such, the little green man is a a perpetual state of walking. In Europe, the little green 'walk man' is not a 'walk man' at all. The little green man, is running. This is very wise of the little green man. In Europe, they don't yeild to pedestrians. Best to run.
(12.) I really am compelled to get one last point in. Thus I'll break my promise of an even exchange. I opted to #12, because 12 is even, then I wouldn't leave you on an odd number like 11. There is an eclipse tonight. Eclipses make for mystery. I'm going to go sit on my picnic table with my arms around my legs, watch and think about things that should be thought about under the contemplating, blinking eye of the moon.
'Stop-roll-drop'
Meghan
what they said - what they will say
