fucking scared
oh jesus. i'm listening to the shining ost for the first time. mostly in the dark: light of the hdtv and laptop only. this is incredible. scariest music i have ever heard. i fucking love it.
i'm done. i can't listen anymore. fuck, i can't do it.
but, i am wearing new shoes. there's nothing like a new pair of shoes. got that new-shoe happinessssssss
cheap shoes. bragging rights.
spent the day at the lake. i've reached a saturation point where i can spent four hours in the sun and not burn on my arms and legs. but i did get to play the role of first mate to perfection on our personal water yacht sea doo. my dad drove, towing the ski-bob around for the kids to ride on. i took pictures and swam, helped them up on the jet craft, set them down on the tube, sat backwards and watched them. i was the man, really. without going into too much detail, there were two that were crazy, one kept bailing them out over and over. he would grind it down in the surf, stand up, pull crazy shit, and they both would laugh about it over and over again. i used to be really good at that thing too. at the beginning, when nobody was wanting to ride yet, he took off from the shallows with me in tow and even though i thought i remembered how i liked to ride it, he hit a wicked right-hand curve with a burst of throttle and it slipped right out from under me. hmm. i got back on from the back and he pulled me down by a boat of a friend of ours, loaded with children and such. one of his sons wanted to ride so i slid off into the water and tried to load his great roundness on the slippery rubber torpedo. that was not what it sounds like, i swear to god, it's just what describes the ski-bob. in fact, if you go to google images and search 'ski-bob' you will find a couple pictures, although if you see one with a woman riding the thing, she's riding like a pussy. and ours is blue. yes so. i loaded him up onto the sea doo and tried again but as soon as i let go, he fell right off. eventually we got going and he kept falling off. center of gravity's too high. so then we went through the fifteen trials of the twins before i rode again. i had my groove back this time. which is to say, i lay belly-down on the rear seatrest knees grabbing the sides of the tube, toes in the water. opposite arm grabbing the front seat black rope, same arm against the side of the tube, hunkered down into turns.
sharon, i love you.
yes, so this time i didn't get thrown off. i had my groove back, see. in control. constantly switching sides, changing hands, creating balance. wiping my face with a rough hand, fingers for one eye, thumb for the other. there was a knot in the line five feet out from bob which sent a spray directly at one's face. once he turned right, slowed down, and hit the throttle, sending me over a mountain of water with the force of 135 or so horsepower. my body lifted off, my feet and legs shot out back in the water, but i gripped with both hands and pulled myself back up into position. oh yes. i was damn proud of that. he stopped eventually, and said he couldnt throw me off. then he started again and gunned it to 35 or so mph, ridiculous. i got stuck in a rut on the inside of a sweeping fast left-hand curve and bob started sliding while i was wiping my face from a particularly lengthy and brutal spray, the combination of which ruined my balance and sent me skidding and rolling into the hard updraft of water from the jets. which, by the way, really hurt my balls. just, fyi. we churned back towards shore, where we picked up round kid, who rode on the back of the sea doo while they pulled me again. he was amazed, really, at my adeptness at bobbing. although this time was noticibly less comfortable, as i kept trying to reach down in mid-ride to rearrange myself.
every now and then we would stop back by the shore. i would still be on the bob, having survived, and would lay down lenghwise on the great rubber beast, face down staring at the water. just so i could hear with one ear the water lapping up against the edges, that rubber sound. it was lovely, like that. i could have fallen asleep. i lay there in the sun, keeping balance, thinking of that certain salty exhaustion that comes from a day on the water. there is nothing else like it.
i'm done. i can't listen anymore. fuck, i can't do it.
but, i am wearing new shoes. there's nothing like a new pair of shoes. got that new-shoe happinessssssss
cheap shoes. bragging rights.
spent the day at the lake. i've reached a saturation point where i can spent four hours in the sun and not burn on my arms and legs. but i did get to play the role of first mate to perfection on our personal water yacht sea doo. my dad drove, towing the ski-bob around for the kids to ride on. i took pictures and swam, helped them up on the jet craft, set them down on the tube, sat backwards and watched them. i was the man, really. without going into too much detail, there were two that were crazy, one kept bailing them out over and over. he would grind it down in the surf, stand up, pull crazy shit, and they both would laugh about it over and over again. i used to be really good at that thing too. at the beginning, when nobody was wanting to ride yet, he took off from the shallows with me in tow and even though i thought i remembered how i liked to ride it, he hit a wicked right-hand curve with a burst of throttle and it slipped right out from under me. hmm. i got back on from the back and he pulled me down by a boat of a friend of ours, loaded with children and such. one of his sons wanted to ride so i slid off into the water and tried to load his great roundness on the slippery rubber torpedo. that was not what it sounds like, i swear to god, it's just what describes the ski-bob. in fact, if you go to google images and search 'ski-bob' you will find a couple pictures, although if you see one with a woman riding the thing, she's riding like a pussy. and ours is blue. yes so. i loaded him up onto the sea doo and tried again but as soon as i let go, he fell right off. eventually we got going and he kept falling off. center of gravity's too high. so then we went through the fifteen trials of the twins before i rode again. i had my groove back this time. which is to say, i lay belly-down on the rear seatrest knees grabbing the sides of the tube, toes in the water. opposite arm grabbing the front seat black rope, same arm against the side of the tube, hunkered down into turns.
sharon, i love you.
yes, so this time i didn't get thrown off. i had my groove back, see. in control. constantly switching sides, changing hands, creating balance. wiping my face with a rough hand, fingers for one eye, thumb for the other. there was a knot in the line five feet out from bob which sent a spray directly at one's face. once he turned right, slowed down, and hit the throttle, sending me over a mountain of water with the force of 135 or so horsepower. my body lifted off, my feet and legs shot out back in the water, but i gripped with both hands and pulled myself back up into position. oh yes. i was damn proud of that. he stopped eventually, and said he couldnt throw me off. then he started again and gunned it to 35 or so mph, ridiculous. i got stuck in a rut on the inside of a sweeping fast left-hand curve and bob started sliding while i was wiping my face from a particularly lengthy and brutal spray, the combination of which ruined my balance and sent me skidding and rolling into the hard updraft of water from the jets. which, by the way, really hurt my balls. just, fyi. we churned back towards shore, where we picked up round kid, who rode on the back of the sea doo while they pulled me again. he was amazed, really, at my adeptness at bobbing. although this time was noticibly less comfortable, as i kept trying to reach down in mid-ride to rearrange myself.
every now and then we would stop back by the shore. i would still be on the bob, having survived, and would lay down lenghwise on the great rubber beast, face down staring at the water. just so i could hear with one ear the water lapping up against the edges, that rubber sound. it was lovely, like that. i could have fallen asleep. i lay there in the sun, keeping balance, thinking of that certain salty exhaustion that comes from a day on the water. there is nothing else like it.
posted by sunshine at 11:57 PM
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