Skip to main content

Recent Conversations (A Small Leak)

(shadow people having anonymous & mysterious conversations)


On a friend ditching us early:
friend #1: "I'm just feeling really desolate, you know? I need to just go and be alone for awhile."
friend #2: "Just don't make any decisions..."
friend #1: "What!? (feigning disappointment) I was planning on jumping off the river!"
friend #2: "Off the river? Okay, sounds good to me..."
laughter
friend #1: "Wait! I mean...oh, you're laughing at me..."


On the recent spike in my texting habits:
friend #1: "He should get you a Blueberry."
laughter
friend #2: "You mean a Blackberry?"
friend #1: "Yes! that's what I mean...Blueberry, Blackberry. So similar!"


Another day, another friend...
me: "I mean, I feel confident he'll respect me, when he won't even touch a fourteen year-old's neck."
friend: laughter
me: (pause) "Okay, that does sound weird."


More days later. More friends later. I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror...
me: I look terrible. Wow. I do not usually go out in public like this.
friend: You look fine.
me: (lowering my voice) I look butch.
friend: laughter
me: No, really. I look a bit like a lesbian*. Runners, jeans with a cuff. Frumpy brown wool sweater. Flat hair kind of in a ponytail. No bobby pins. No make up. Nose ring.
friend: I've never met a lesbian with a smile like yours. So just keep smiling.
me: Wait...so you're saying that I do look like a lesbian - except for the smile.
friend: Well, I would never say it. But now that you point it out...the combination of everything...and when your face is more serious, you do look a little bit butch.
me: I KNEW IT! I need to go home.
*disclaimer: I'm well aware that lesbians do not all look alike. Nor do they all (or even mostly) look frumpy. I recognize that my statement is incredibly stereotypical and possibly offensive. If I have offended...I'm sorry. And please let me know. Gently. :)

And more goodness. On upcoming dates.
friend 1: I'm choosing to be cautiously non-terrified.
friend 2: That is the best way to be.
friend 1: It's hard to be "in the moment" and not in over-thinking mode.
friend 2: Yes. That is TRUE.
friend 1: I think part of the problem is that I don't go on enough dates.
friend 2: Ah, yeah. (refers to earlier conversation) It's like kissing. You just need practice...
friend 1: Ha ha ha, eeek!
friend 2: Frightening. And yet fun.
friend 1: Yes. Like a thrill ride. "I think I'm gonna die -- Wait. This is awesome."
friend 2: Mmhmm. Except for the part where I actually throw up on the thrill ride.
friend 1: Equivalent of butterflies/knots-in-stomach dates.
friend 2: Worse. Like physically can't handle it and will puke. Not just nervous nausea.
friend 1: Ah. Then maybe you should never go on a date to an amusement park. Disastrous.
friend 2: Oh man. It would be awful.

Comments

  1. Sarah11:45 PM

    I don't know if you said it more than once but I know you also told me you know he'd respect you because he of the way he respects fourteen year old girls. Which just sounds creepy. Like the word "respects" should have quotation marks and you should motion them in the air while saying the word.

    You know.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Beth11:59 PM

    yeah, i think that was right after, when i was trying to explain myself...but anyway you listen to it, it sounds creepy.

    even though it's not.

    right?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Simone Weil: On "Forms of the Implicit Love of God"

Simone Weil time again! One of the essays in Waiting for God  is entitled "Forms of the Implicit Love of God." Her main argument is that before a soul has "direct contact" with God, there are three types of love that are implicitly  the love of God, though they seem to have a different explicit  object. That is, in loving X, you are really loving Y. (in this case, Y = God). As for the X of the equation, she lists: Love of neighbor  Love of the beauty of the world  Love of religious practices  and a special sidebar to Friendship “Each has the virtue of a sacrament,” she writes. Each of these loves is something to be respected, honoured, and understood both symbolically and concretely. On each page of this essay, I found myself underlining profound, challenging, and thought-provoking words. There's so much to consider that I've gone back several times, mulling it over and wondering how my life would look if I truly believed even half of these thi...
1 comment
Read more

I Like to Keep My Issues Drawn

It's Sunday night and I am multi-tasking. Paid some bills, catching up on free musical downloads from the past month, thinking about the mix-tape I need to make and planning my last assignment for writing class. Shortly, I will abandon the laptop to write my first draft by hand. But until then, I am thinking about music. This song played for me earlier this afternoon, as I attempted to nap. I woke up somewhere between 5 and 5:30 this morning, then lay in bed until 8 o'clock flipping sides and thinking about every part of my life that exists. It wasn't stressful, but it wasn't quite restful either...This past month, I have spent a lot of time rebuffing lies and refusing to believe that the inside of my heart and mind can never change. I feel like Florence + The Machine 's song "Shake it Out" captures many of these feelings & thoughts. (addendum: is the line "I like to keep my issues strong or drawn ?" Lyrics sites have it as "stro...
2 comments
Read more

Esse - Czeslaw Milosz

I'm on a bit of a poetry binge this week, and Monday afternoon found me lying on the luxurious shag rug of a friend's tiny apartment, re-reading some of my favourite poets (ee cummings, William Carlos Williams, Czeslaw Milosz). It is an adventure to re-open a collection and wonder what will pop out, knowing something you've read before will strike you afresh, or you will be reminded of a particularly moving line that you had somehow forgotten. Like this piece from Milosz, which floors me. Every. damn.* time. The first time I read it, I lay in a park with a friend (this same friend who offered me her rug as my reading burrow) and demanded that I share it with her. I spoke it carefully, and then, into the post-reading silence, I slammed the book shut, and dropped it as loudly as I could onto the grass. "I'm never reading anything again," I declared, "What else is there to say?" Esse I looked at that face, dumbfounded. The lights of métro st...
Post a Comment
Read more