Monday, June 15, 2015
500 Words, Day 26 and 27 -- Too Many Words Written About Few Words Spoken
Tonight I’m going to write about the words I said today. Out loud. To other people. There weren’t many. I love days like the one I had today. Let’s see, I got up and behold there was coffee and the Lord said indeed the coffeemaker has been blessed with a timer that there shall be coffee with no effort whatsoever upon arising. And verily, there was no other individual in my home except myself. As much as I love weekend mornings with my son, and cooking all the pancakes and french toast with lots of real maple syrup because I’m on Atkins and I can’t eat that shit but I love watching him because I’m a masochistic voyeuse. No, The Gamer went to stay at his dad’s this weekend, and you know what? Thank SBJ because it was getting hella awkward, dancing around that elephant in the room. He should spend some time there, with his dad, they both need it. And let’s face it, I need it too. Maybe someday I’ll have a dude in my life and he’ll stay over on nights like that, but for right now, I don’t and that’s JUST FINE with me because space and distance and privacy. I have never been really alone in my whole life unless you count my childhood and let’s face it, kids shouldn’t have that kind of alone time growing up. I mean hours on end, not ignored exactly, but “left to my own devices.” Deconstructing that phrase would be a fun rhetorical exercise, don’t you think? What does that even mean? For me it meant reading and writing and pretending I was a back-up singer for James Taylor and Elton John. And knitting while I listened to Top 40 on AM radio. The sailor said, Brandy, you’re a fine girl. Double yoo eff I ell.
But I digress. (Surprise!) After I had my coffee, and cleaned the stove (this was the weekend for that because I didn’t cook breakfast as I mentioned), did a load of laundry and cleaned the bathroom, it was time for The Hike. Which really was a hike this time, not like the other time, which that one is more of a walk. But this one is a little too real of a hike, actually, with a lot of what I call gratuitous descent which is a pleasant surprise but also kind of a drag since you worked so hard at climbing, and you would have to do that again very shortly. So big whoop it was six miles and I got a lot of cool shots like this one with MY PHONE if you can believe that shit.
Guess what? Got to be two o’clock in the afternoon and still no words spoken. The last thing I had said was the night before and it was “Are you fucking me?” when the cashier said “That’s 9.95” for my small popcorn and bottle of Coke Zero. Well, no, that was the penultimate thing I said, which means “next to the last” and is basically my favorite word ever. The ultimate thing I said was, “Thank you, and sorry for the swear,” but guess what, I wasn’t sorry. Anyway, that was the night before around 8:00 p.m., and then I said “shit I should have gotten here earlier” when I saw that I would have to sit way in front, but I didn’t say that to anyone but myself so that hardly counts because I talk to myself all the live-long day. I saw “I’ll See You in My Dreams” and I can never remember the title for some reason, so I have to keep googling “Blythe Danner luminous” because that was how the reviewer described her. Another great word, luminous, and accurate as applied to Blythe Danner in this film. And it had Sam Elliot, so it was a slam-dunk in my book or basket as the case may be. It had this young man whom I recognized at the outskirts of Memorytown, but I couldn’t quite place him, just out of reach he was in my mind. Maybe from Wes Anderson films? I couldn’t get it, and it was alternately fun and annoying to try to think of his name, or at least where I knew him from. So roll credits on this sweet little film, and get the actor's name, Martin Starr, and I google him on my phone (because when the lights come up, I figure that pesky phone restriction has been lifted as well) and come to find out it’s Bill Haverchuck from Freaks and Geeks, looking nothing like his character there, but I guess enough like him that I would recognize him in this movie. So that brings me to another one of the few things I said out loud: “I knew it! I knew I knew him from somewhere.” And once again, I hadn’t really said that to anyone, although the couple trying to sidle past me to the aisle were a little startled by my enthusiasm. “Bill Haverchuck, Sam’s friend on Freaks and Geeks, that was the pool boy.” I did say that directly to them, but they were having none of it. So I instantly regretted it, realizing as I did that the bit about the popcorn was not in fact the penultimate thing I said, and I kind of wasted thirteen pretty gratuitous words on people who didn’t care enough to deserve them, but the sentence was said, and I couldn’t take it back.
So back to the hike, where I still haven’t spoken a word to another person. But hiking, see, you have greeters and non-greeters when hiking and it can be super awkward if you’re a greeter encountering non-greeters. Me, I’m a greeter, which I bet doesn’t fit with what you know of me, but hiking is as close to team sports as I get. I feel a camaraderie with people who will drive a long time to walk in nature, and if that doesn’t merit the monosyllabic version of “namaste” then I don’t know what. So I had several times where I said “hi” to people I encountered and some mofos said “hi” back and a couple mofos did not and life is like that sometimes. You can meet with rejection on a beautiful hike and not feel some kind of way about it.
So after the hike I didn’t say another word to anyone until I got to the gym, where I said “hi” to the guy at the front desk. I didn’t need say "hi" because you just scan your card yourself so I don’t even know what that dude is doing there except to give you the side eye if you take two towels instead of one. But I like two towels because I like to wrap my hair up in one of them and dry off with the other. This time I didn’t take any towels, so I feel like I should be able to put one in the bank, but I seriously doubt anyone really cares that much. I was just going to do my weights for a few minutes on my way home from the hike. I worked on my arms and my gut. You may recall the moment of truth in the hotel bathroom with all the mirrors and fluorescent lights from a couple of weekends ago. My legs are still pretty good plus I had just hiked for three hours so I gave them the day off.
I went home to take a shower which felt so damn good that I probably stayed in there a bit longer than I should have because Drought Guilt. Then it was time for Movie Night again because I really liked going by myself the night before. I could make this a thing, this movie-going. This time I saw “Spy” with Melissa McCarthy, whom I adore. But that brings me to the last thing I said. It wasn’t to the popcorn person because this time I made my popcorn at home and poured my Coke Zero from my can into the bottle from last night. Because JFC I can’t afford to make Movie Night a habit unless I bring my own snacks.
But they must have renovated the movie theatre since the last time I was there because I am not fucking kidding when I tell you they have, like, LA-Z-BOY recliners up in that bitch now. And assigned seating so that when you buy that ticket you know you are not going to have to maneuver your way over people to find a seat that turns out was actually a seat for a jacket. Come on, people, that’s just weak. Anyway, I climbed into my assigned LA-Z-BOY and after the hike and the weights and everything, it felt incredible. I got out my popcorn and Coke Zero even though the lights were still up, because seriously what are they going to do, make you throw it out?
It was simply an amazing day, capped by the last thing I said out loud to another person, was when I turned to the couple next to me, patted the arm of my leather chaise lounge, and said, "Are these new?” and they concurred that it must be so, because they hadn't seen them before. I was pretty relieved that it was not just me. Fucking awesome weekend, even if I did have to work yesterday. I didn’t HAVE to work, but I like to come in sometimes because I get tons done when I don’t have to talk to people. And I have written 1,600 words to describe the 41 I said in over 24 hours, when I was only supposed to write 500. There’s a word for that and that word is “ironic.”
Posted by Mina Klonopina at 12:39 AM