THE TIME: 1:08AM
THE MUSIC: Pop lock and drop it.
THE MOMENT: My mouth is Mmmmm vanilla mint toothpaste.
thoughts about work.
Today two men sat in my section to eat some big burly man burgers. After their check they asked which city they would come to if they turned right and kept goin down the main road. They didn’t want to take the interstate because it was “too rough on a bike.” My eyes must have gotten pretty wide. Their next words were something like “Well girl, get yourself a helmet.” But I didn’t go. I really would have hopped on the open road with two middle-aged Harley guys in about two seconds. But I need my job. So I lent them my pen, explained how to get to a good lake spot, and regretfully walked away. The good news is I survived three doubles this week. I made friends with some kids at work. I can tell we’re friends because I got invited to go crunk it up at the expo guy’s house after I got off Friday night. But alas, I’m not really a crunker. They said we can still be friends though. Tongue ring kid even tattooed a heart on my arm. He says that our bodies may be temples after all, and so we should maybe decorate them. Needless to say every one seems to be adapting quite well to my Mormon obscurities. If we’re slow at night sometimes they twirl around with me to the sad songs. This is nice, because there is something undeniably lonely about being a late night waitress.
thoughts about other things.
I would like a baseball hat, the kind that’s worn-in and dirty because it actually is, and not because american eagle roughed it up before they sold it so little polo boys could appear rugged and manly. I would then like to wear it with my bathing suit and one of my dads massive t-shirts, which I have been using as make-shift sun dresses. Yes, I wish to resemble a puddle-jumping mud child. For that is truly where my soul lies in the afternoons of my life.
I have put no effort into summer boys. I mean, there’s only so much I can handle these days. I confess to having this idea about macking some of the ones I always wanted to in high school, which is great in theory, but I really just don’t mind one way or the other. And that, is a beautiful thing.
thoughts about the last hour of my life.
Tonight I went to gas up the Buick on account of it’s been just chuggin that stuff down these days. After that I went to buy some sprinkle cheese for potluck after singles ward tomorrow because I only had 20 minutes left of non-sabbath wal mart time. I went in my cheeseburgery-milkshake pajamas that Stephy J picked out for me. Wal Mart was surprisingly NOT bumpin for a Saturday night in
One. Wednesday night I had a word breakthrough. I listened to the best instrumental song I’ve ever known and let it seep out of me. I am almost free.
Two. I’m not a BYU girl that’s all about getting married right this second. Just a disclaimer. Moving on. A guy walked out of the restaurant the other day. He was younger, but I could tell from something in his demeanor, that he was definitely a Dad. I thought that I hope whoever I marry has an air of fatherhood about him. And then I had this three-second flash of me and whoever he is, in a really beat up truck drivin down the road eating peanut butter out of the jar together. Not sure where it came from, but I loved that.
I decided today calls for a little-me-in-the-bathtub picture.