Monthly Archives: April 2012
I thought about writing today so I walked to a café and bought a bottomless mug of coffee and put some milk in it and one third of a pack of splenda and stirred it around. I drank one cup then refilled my mug and started to drink another that was prepared the same way as before.
I turned my computer on and noticed that the mouse wasn’t working. The trackpad worked and I watched the arrow move all around the screen. I clicked on mozilla firefox and it didn’t open. I clicked on microsoft word and it didn’t open. I clicked on a folder labeled ‘gchat’ on my desktop and nothing happened. Nothing was happening. I was stressing out.
That brings us to the present. I am stressing out. Is this it, is this the end of my computer. Macbook, are you done? Are you finished serving your term to me? Are you packing up your files and folders like mini digital suitcases and boarding your e-plane to that web heaven in the sky? I don’t know enough computer terms to keep making jokes. These jokes aren’t even funny, I don’t know any funny jokes.
I manage to open this word document by employing my very basic knowledge of key commands. It takes a few minutes and a couple of wrong turns (I opened up like 5 songs and garageband somehow) but then, there it is, a blank word document for me to write in. I am still stressing out, because now I can only write about this.
This is embarrassing. I can’t move the document around, so you can still see part of my desktop wallpaper. It is a picture of the Weasley twins fighting in the final battle of Hogwarts. I can only see George. Fred is covered by this word document. I guess that makes sense. Fred dies. Maybe he is already dead. This is just like the movies. Except this is real life and I am stressing out.
Third cup of coffee, prepared the same way, and finishing up the last third of the splenda packet. George’s eyes are moving and now he is staring at me. “Why do you have a computer if you don’t even know how to use it. Why don’t you know how to click things. Are you an idiot. Yeah, you are. You killed my brother.”
I should never have turned my computer on this morning. I should have slept in. I should have spooned shaun gannon longer. Maybe my computer needs rest too? Maybe I have been working it too hard? Maybe it was on vacation and I called it home early to get some work done and now it is mad at me so it’s killing off the Weasley twins and not letting me click the things I want to click on.
I wonder if I can somehow post this onto my blog without the use of a mouse clicker. That will be v impressive. I would feel accomplished if I can post this onto my blog. Okay I am going to try. If you have finished reading this post, you will know of my struggles. You will know what I have spent the past 10 minutes doing. I am stressing out, but I managed to complete a blog post without clicking on anything. You are nodding in respect at my journey and how I overcame this early morning technological hurdle. Thank you. I thank you.
I listened to Taylor Swift sing about remembering to love your mom and then I remembered the doctor diagnosed me with breast cancer yesterday. Then I remembered to turn the radio off and I called my dad on the telephone. “Hey dad, I have breast cancer–isn’t that weird? What are the chances that a guy like me would ever get breast cancer, really. I’m feeling mostly amused by the idea, but it’s definitely just a mask to cover the crushing pain and terror fighting in my stomach right now, I might throw up.”
The six things I could never do without.
sarah jean is 23. 5 years ago she was 18. when sarah jean was 18 she wanted to have 5 children. three years later, sarah jean was 21. when sarah jean was 21 she wanted to have 3 children. she will be 24 in less than a month and wants 0 children.
sarah jean’s sister tells her to touch her belly to feel the baby kick. when it does, sarah jean recoils and says it feels like an alien is in her uterus tapping morse code signals and sarah jean never learned morse code in grade school or in college. sarah jean’s friend alyssa described what a c-section operation looks like in vivid detail the other day. sarah jean kept imagining the scene in alien when the alien comes out of kane’s chest–the chestburster scene. babies are like miniature aliens, foreign to everything on this earth. you can’t trust them.
sarah jean doesn’t like babies, or small children. they are needy, she thinks, they are rude and dirty and ungrateful. sarah jean used to be a baby, and she is still ungrateful.
“I really like this girl and I think I am going to call her tomorrow even though she hasn’t responded to any of my Facebook messages.” I say.
“You’re going to get in over your head,” Mom says.
I tell her she is being negative and that I wish she wouldn’t speak to me unless she is going to say extremely nice things. I am hopeful about the girl but I am angry at Mom so I slam the back door as I run out of the kitchen and into the backyard. Morning dew is still on the grass and my shoes lose their grip while I run. I slip and fall into the pool.
“How did you know,” I say underwater. “Mom how did you know.”
i am maybe really drunk right now it’s 3:19 in the mornign and I just gt home and googled “gren mok” and here is a picture that showd up.’
gren mok, good night.