Sunday, July 15, 2007

fat children took my life

i'm hoping for good things to come.

i'm hoping i stop being a dyslexic typer. 'goot' isn't a word. 'this' doesn't mean 'shit' and vice versa. what happened to me? i can't write words with a pen and paper either. handwriting suffering. words run together. misspelling dumb things because i write the wrong letters, not because i can't spell it. i think i'm degenerating.

two weeks till bermuda. three weeks after and i'll be back in the tre-fo. (yeah, i said tre-fo, got a problem with that?) four classes, no labs. maybe a job working with our field hockey team. hooray. football season. double hooray. drinking alcohol. maybe other drugs. whatever presents itself. sex on the roof? what? where did that come from?

i keep flopping on big decisions like... what should i do with my life? figure on now playing a waiting game. in other words - i give up for now. probably take the mcats, see how that goes. keep the ole gpa up up up. then choose between the pharm, pa, physical therapy, med school later on. who knows. shoot for the stars, that's what i tell myself. leads to being dr. so and so. is that really worth it? are the sacrifices worth it?

today was sunday school lake day. all the families in my parents sunday school class trek from rural-ish north carolina to the lake to show off boats and jet skis and cook food. i was in a bad news bears mood this morning but went anyway. i usually feel better when i get on the water. especially towing ski-bob, that's just funny. had another 'dagone, looka that!' moment at the docks. always a fan of those. received news that the father my father is perpetually jealous of bought a brand-new boat and had it at the lake. caught up with them round the cookout area. food and whatnot ensued. i didn't speak to anyone except adults because i'm antisocial like that. came back from the bathroom once to find some of the adults gathered around a drainage pipe running underneath the walkway with a little yellow and black garter snake poking his head out. the women were scared the hell onto tables of the poor little thing and one of the more pious and churchly guys was dead set on killing it to save the cookout. a bunch of us really didn't understand it. he seemed to be the only guy wanting to kill it, backed up by a bunch of womeny women. i guess it was his man moment.

it was odd, though. for the sake of easier dealings with everyone, nobody ever argued about the snake's future, just let him stand there alone guarding the pipe, a slingblade in one hand and a small hatched in the other. this is the kind of man who listens to rascal flatts. i could have gone and stood him down saying that the snake would not die today and the snake would have been fine. what could he have done? i chose the route of... well if you hear anything, just don't turn around to look. the snake, outwitting him, never left the hole farther than a couple inches. oh, it's a six or eight footer he'd say. he's gonna eat my fourteen-year old daughter, he thought. we assured him it was not poisonous, it was really scared, and that it just wanted to leave if he'd let it. another guy blocked one hole with a large rock and offered to block the other side and just let it loose when we left but one side was left open and guarded viciously. i wanted to go catch it bare-handed and walk it to the woods but never did.

eventually a couple park officers drove past and he yelled them down, complaining about the deadly garter snake in our drainage pipe. the woman officer, scared of it, conferred with the knucklehead country boy, who probably drooled in response. i'm not really joking; you should have seen this guy. so they leave and come back with a big huge long telescoping metal rod, which she uses to scare the poor thing out of the pipe and into the woods. and lord, when it left the pipe! monster must have been 12 feet long! (it was three feet long...) people started walking down the woods path to the boats and he warned us to watch out in case it assaulted our women and children on the trail...

the strangest part of it all was the image of him standing there, this pious... well, this soft, round man... standing over this little scared snake wielding a slingblade, wanting to save the picnic by exposing the children to the slaughter of an innocent animal.

anyway, my dad got his vindication when we were taken out for a joyride on the other guy's new boat. first of all, he couldn't get it started while we were sitting there on it. i didn't think we were going to leave the shore. well, he finally got it going and we got to talking about it. 135hp mercruiser engine. really? i thought. we've got that in our damn sea-doo. my parents commented on how roomy it was inside. it felt pretty cramped to me. how comfortable the ride was. are you kidding me? he said yeah, he'd gotten it up to 45 or so at wot. later on, i got our family fun 13ft sea-doo up to 50 with no problem and it was more comfortable than the boat. my dad drove it for a while and gave it back. later on, while we were riding on the sea-doo, i asked him about our last boat, a 22ft bayliner. it would have put this 16ft crownline to shame. 220hp v-8 trumps that 135hp v-6 any day. it was nice, really. felt good to badmouth his new stuff. perfect husband. perfect wife. perfect child. out boat was better. and he's a state fan. i don't feel sorry for him.




yeah, so hi. i'm pretty close to putting you back on my buddy list. i hate how technological that sounds but it's true. might not be a big deal for a lot of people but it's been a long time, you know? you know.

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