Love and other Drama (an oxymoron)

It may be some time before I learn if it's actually okay to hit on cute girls in retail.

Or:

The Love Life of Action Jackson, in Three Consecutive Days

Act 1: Awkwardness, with a dose of self-righteous Fury
The scene opens with the kind of silence that has surely been going on for 4-5 months. Violins begin playing, full of angst and old guitar riffs (e.g., Summer of 69, Livin' on a Prayer). [action] enters with crowd, lots of noise, laughter, happiness. Perhaps several of them toss a beach ball, with a smiley face painted on it. [K] enters. Suddenly: Crowd noise diminishes only slightly, but laughter becomes surreal, ephemereal. We observe quickly that [action] and [K] speak to everyone but each other. Finally, [action] approaches. Consider interpretative dance for the following dialogue:
[action]: Distraction! Avoidance is Anger, Void, drain of happiness.
[K]: Do Not Assume! Not for Me!
[action]: [exits]
Beach ball pops and deflates. Off-stage cacophony of it's not worth it! and you can't change her! Consider fire effects.

Act 2: Intrigue, with elements of Excitement
Dr. Goodall: You should be careful with her. She's moving to [...] in* 6 months.
me: [eyes light up... goofy grin... then mouth works, but no sound]
Dr. Goodall: [laughing] I've left you speechless, haven't I!
me: Well... I appreciate your "warning." [grins again] It's crossed my mind.
Dr. Goodall: [laughter**]

*The word "in" should be pronounced in such a way so that it may also be heard as "for." Intoxication of audience is recommended. Also, be sure to have super-intriguing music in the background, like Al Foul & The Shakes.

**This laughter should include strong elements of you're ridiculous and a pinch of good-natured you're kinda cute, but I don't know what my friend sees in you.

Act 3: Resolution, but only in the Fantasy World, or... the [action]-story
Setting: Summit Hut. [action] walks in, searching, eyes cast upward, leftward, backward everywhere-ward. Several sales staff approach, all with "Supporting Role" marked on their nametag. [action] ignores robotic greetings, buys map of the Chiricahuas, and leaves. Hmm, he ponders in the safety of his '96 Oldsmobile. Perhaps she was working here on a Sunday, that time a year ago... [action] pulls out camera, takes the photo displayed above.

[Leave curtain up, under the guise of maintaining suspense, while the audience grows increasingly bored/perplexed/disgusted.]

the fantasy world is a good place to be

While I was visiting Sunshine Rider (aka greensleeves) in SF a few months ago (see 12/5 post), I paid one of his friends about 13 Chinese yuan (~$1.50) to quit being a Republican. In the photo above, from last night, I'm gifting the likely-Republican driver of the giant jacked-up truck with a floral symbol of liberal peace and love. Just my way of making the world a better (i.e. less Republican) place.

It reminds me of the "poetic terrorism" attacks executed by Hellmouth & me at Penn State. The world shall not forget the Redifer poets!

an excerpt from #5:

Dear Redifer,

I appreciate your animal crackers
They lie stacked on my plate,
All headless:
The heads taste the best.
Animal crackers are so much better
Than animals,
You don’t have to put a bullet through a cracker,
Don’t cut out the guts and genitals
To butcher a cracker.
The heads taste so good.

dropping the hammer

Most fridays I play frisbee with a crowd that's mostly astronomers, with a few other people we've picked up to play along the way. There exist people that get really serious and competitive about frisbee... I'm not one of them. I still consider it a cross between a sport best played with a beer in one hand, and a hippie activity with dogs. Ultimate frisbee is my hetero-lifemate's favorite hobby (outside of his fiancee and food), so I get in trouble sometimes by the way I casually refer to the sport. But still, I'm excited about the spring city league, and I'll tell anyone who is willing to listen that I'm going to be the Eric Lindros / Felix Hernandez of Tucson Ultimate.

astronomer

The view of the moon out my bedroom skylight. Around midnight, there's always a window of moon illuminating my feet in un-shadow.

origami

While out for beers with the diamond and surly barnacle, I made napkin roses for each of them. As you can see, surly barnacle loves his. Meanwhile, the diamond: I hate these stupid commercials for pickup trucks. They all look the same. Why can't we have a commercial where someone takes a piss on a big truck, then walks away and gets in a Prius...

Amen.

I think one of the most valuable contributions of friends is to tell you the obvious things you've been keeping from yourself. For instance, in the last week:

my brother: yeah, but will she ever love you the way you need?
my closest female friend: you need a nice girl... you've been dating bad girls, girls who are jaded, who just aren't kind to people, and they've been bad to you.
my brewing buddy: once she asks for it, it'll be feline [sic]... or no feline [sic]. you'll choose feline [sic].

Ahem...

dangerous in tucson

At the laundromat today, sitting and reading the New Yorker while waiting for my stuff to wash/dry and wondering if the zuchini bread in my oven was burning... I witnessed the following:

1. A 40-ish dude walks up to me, says, Excuse me, sir? I look up. He continues, Looks like you've got it all figured out. I give him a bewildered look. He explains, Sitting there, washing your clothes, reading. I used to be able to do that. Then he walks away.

2. A 50-ish woman walks in, explains that she's just moved into the neighborhood, and is wondering how good the laundromat is. I show her all the equipment I've used. Is it safe? she asks. I certainly think so, I reply.

3. A 60-ish guy walks in with a grocery bag of laundry. His odor is far too colorful for words. After helping him pick up some dropped change (his girth and age are such that he has trouble bending over)... I go sit on the extreme other side of the laundromat. He puts his laundry in, then takes off his flannel shirt and drops that in as well. Thank god, I think. I'm sure that could use a wash. Then he proceeds to take off his shoes, pants, and t-shirt, working them all into the foaming washer. You know how you hustle? he, standing barefoot in his boxers, informs another woman. You hustle with your mouth.

*My laundromat doesn't actually have bullet-holed avocado & camel washers. I stole the picture above from someone's flickr account (ha, I thwart your anti-piracy attempts, flickr! My view-page-source abilities rule!). Despite the lack of piracy training in my primary and secondary education (see previous post), I'm a fair hand at playing the rogue. But in case you're curious, the photo came from here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pictobox/

best read with the diamond's laugh track

On my bike, en route to a new year's party last night, I discovered this school. That's right, they are the Scholarly Pirates. I wish I could have gone there... at my school, we were the Scouts. That's more bad-ass than Mules or Bulldogs, but I could have used more pirate training in my formative years.

Why hanging out with my friends was probably better than the big party I was thinking of going to...

surly barnacle: (to me) You live in a fantasy world! I can't believe you!
saucy brute: [action], we missed you!

surly barnacle: (to me and saucy brute) Are you guys talking about sex?
me: Big surprise...
saucy brute: Hey, stay out of this! [action] and I are just having some girl talk!
me: Oh boy...

I began my day in the good PA-Dutch way, with a first meal of pork & sauerkraut with mashed potatoes. Then I sat on my ass and watched college football all day (until I went and ate more pork & sauerkraut with mashed potatoes, while watching more football, at a friend's house). Woot Penn State!