so I don't feel all that bad taking it from them.
Besides...
I'm sure they don't appreciate the full flavor of a gooey piece of chocolate anyway.
I think their taste buds don't develop until they're 12 or so.
what?
I only took the Almond Joy that was possibly intended for my 9 year old step son because of his rampant apathy upon its offering.
cross my heart and hope to die
(but not for at least 50 years, and preferably while sky diving.)
so, back to my assertion that he must not have fully developed taste buds.
it's the only logical solution.
Today is one of those days...
where I had a great workout, and there are fun plans on the horizon,
and my soul is only tethered to my ridiculously clumsy-by-comparison body by a wisp of silk.
ok, fine, I'm wearing my thong sideways again.
but really...
It's a day when I feel that there is so much living to be done, that I can hardly stand still--
so much to experience that I feel like a dog chasing its tail, or a hamster on a wheel--
but not necessarily a rat in a cage, because, ew--diseases!
I am bursting for it to be my next lifetime,
so that I can run through each day like a river
and pull every last shred of exhilarence out of the air around me...
naw, I don't have to wait until I'm reincarnated.
what I need to do is get my scattered little self into gear and start grabbing my dreams by the balls...
of which the tricky part is to not disrupt the life I'm currently living,
at least not in a manner which would have negative impact on those around me...
besides, I don't think my dreams have conformed with my shaving policy just yet,
so what good would it do me to grab them there if I couldn't follow up with a good long lick?
....see what I mean about being scattered?
sometimes I just want to fall off the cliff of normal life and just nose dive right into the sea of crazy artist-type.
just totally let that weirdness take over.
say random, bizarre, and sometimes disturbing things to strangers at parties.
to speak out loud the thoughts that flit through my head at the speed of light--
or sound?
smell.
what is the speed of smell, anyway?
possibly the amount of time it takes one's stomach to turn after a sharp inhale,
or the distance between one's hand and the sculpted body of that man with the cologne...
hard to say.
I guess we won't be measuring the distance to Mars in units of "the speed of smell" anytime soon.
it's a pity, really.
that would be fucking great!!
and a story, because I haven't written one in a long time:
(all paragraphicalized for ya, even!)
I met him the summer I turned 20. Home from college for the summer, and he was my best friend's brother's best friend--there's a mouthful for you. He was...well, tall dark and handsome, technically, but certainly not in the classic manner. He was all of those things, just...with a sharper edge between his laugh and any reason to cry. His laugh was one of the best things about him--the readiness with which it was offered, the fullness of sound, and accompanying remarks, assuring sincerity. Those eyes...nearly black, but so soft and warm. His hugs are still one on my list of all time favorite experiences.
We spent a lot of time together, in larger groups, that summer. We took our Subarus into the woods and crashed and smashed--over and under, around and through. He shared his great taste in music, and we both acted oblivious to the fact that there could be...should be...something more between us.
One night, as I was closing my eyes, not nearly ready to drift off to sleep, a little scene flashed behind my lids. It was...not a dream because I was still awake, but it was not from my line of conscious thought. I wouldn't call it a vision becuase it sounds too much like clairvoyance or something equally mockable. But it wasn't me. It was a scene in my head, and a feeling settling firmly over me, engulfing me. It was him--his body pressing against mine. I dismissed it as something I had purposely imagined, because it quickly took shape into that sort of fantasy. That began my official crush on him, but it wasn't until I reached the point in the future that I had glimpsed that day, that I realized it was some sort of precognition. To hell with mockable.
New Year's Eve rolled around, over a year later. The temperatures were jaggedly low, but we went to an outdoor celebration, in the Old Port. Fireworks and beer, lots of laughing and hugging. After all the bands and all the walking, home we went, to the loud and crowded party his roommates were having. The tenderness of drunk friends hugging turned quickly to horny friends scrambling to the third floor of that old house, and ending up on the bare wood floor, reaching for condoms, stumbling to the bed. He asked me if things were different, if I lived there instead of here, would I want to be his girlfriend...That was one of the hardest things I had ever had to hear. I loved pretty much everything about him, as a friend, and I was vastly attracted to him. I was always looking for an excuse to leave Utah, and that should have been enough. It wasn't, though.
Dammit, I had big plans for a fictional story, there!!
oh well.
time to either go to the pool or give the kids a nap...
I think I'll pretend to toss a coin, then tuck them into bed!
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