Wednesday, July 29, 2009
There are certain people who were just meant to have these things. When I say “these things,” I mean love, attraction, family, friends, motivation, success. I know that there are people that I want to be close to, but for whatever reason, it will never happen. Maybe it just can’t happen. I feel like I was so close to being happy at one point. Now I feel like I’m about to fall off the world. It’s like a record that keeps spinning and someday we’re all going to fall off. Not all of us jump off though. Some people fall off happy and real. Some people get stuck on a scratch and their life becomes this rut, a broken record that can’t or won’t fix itself. A giant conveyor belt at the checkout line. Have I been scanned yet? Do I need to scan myself? Am I in your bag of groceries or am I alone and in someone else’s. Am I going with the flow or did I roll off to the side…somewhere where you’ll forget about me. This is where it ends. The last stop is here. When do I get off this roller coaster that's spinning 900 mph into oblivion? When will people realize that they're just fragile pieces on this record player that spins us all? The gift is playing us right now.
The two girls set their blanket down on a Chicago beach. Annabelle had never dipped her feet in the waters of Lake Michigan, unlike her friend Sarah who had been there many times before. The girls settled in the sun, letting it burn their pale skin. Annabelle was unaware that she had not applied her SPF 50 sunscreen on her entire back, causing it to burn unevenly.
The girls walked to the edge of the water and started to build castles in the sand. Sarah and Annabelle were unaware that Ms. Walker watched them from a distance under her lime green beach umbrella. Sarah thought of Mexico, a place she had never been, and started building a sand castle in the form of a Mayan pyramid. Annabelle joined her, forming mounds of wet sand into various sized domes.
Sarah was showing Annabelle around Chicago that day. They wanted to go to the zoo later to see the fish pond and the aviary full of tropical birds of many colors. Sarah let the wet sand run through her fingers, forming little towers in the sand. They looked like custard cones, lumpy yet delicate, with their bases wider than their peaks.
After an hour, they gathered Sarah’s blanket and began to walk towards the zoo. Ms. Walker’s children ran to build their own castles by the water as their mother held back her tears. This is where it ends, she thought, thinking about her broken marriage and her thighs covered with cellulite and sunscreen. She watched as the girls’ castles dissolved into the water, a little more with each crashing wave, until there was nothing left of them.
The girls walked to the edge of the water and started to build castles in the sand. Sarah and Annabelle were unaware that Ms. Walker watched them from a distance under her lime green beach umbrella. Sarah thought of Mexico, a place she had never been, and started building a sand castle in the form of a Mayan pyramid. Annabelle joined her, forming mounds of wet sand into various sized domes.
Sarah was showing Annabelle around Chicago that day. They wanted to go to the zoo later to see the fish pond and the aviary full of tropical birds of many colors. Sarah let the wet sand run through her fingers, forming little towers in the sand. They looked like custard cones, lumpy yet delicate, with their bases wider than their peaks.
After an hour, they gathered Sarah’s blanket and began to walk towards the zoo. Ms. Walker’s children ran to build their own castles by the water as their mother held back her tears. This is where it ends, she thought, thinking about her broken marriage and her thighs covered with cellulite and sunscreen. She watched as the girls’ castles dissolved into the water, a little more with each crashing wave, until there was nothing left of them.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Full Credit
I must start by saying that I've never blogged before. I used to write back in high school and haven't written much since. I regret that, but here it goes.
I will give full credit to Gregg Araki for coming up with the term "Doom Generation." I fall well within this generation and have a birthday between generations X and Y. Sometimes, this generation gap seems to swallow me whole. But enough about me. Let's talk about jobs.
A woman has a plan to grab a loudspeaker and stand in the middle of Union Square. (This woman lives in San Francisco.) She recently lost her job and lives with a roommate who has two cats, one of which gets lost on a constant basis. The woman stands in Union Square, holding her loudspeaker and asks why everyone has forgotten her generation. Her generation used to be called the "MTV Generation." Apparently this term no longer applies to those born just after the death of disco (1979). She is too old...and will turn 30 in two months.
She states her resume, holding her roommate's cat under one arm and the loudspeaker in the other. Graduated from University of California Los Angeles in 2002...majored in something that doesn't really get many job offers now but seemed fun at the time. Multiple years working with kids. Multiple years dating the wrong people. Multiple years going to class and wandering around campus feeding the squirrels.
As she steps down from the upside down bucket she was standing on, one man claps for her. Accidentally, she puts the cat down instead of the loudspeaker without realizing it. Her search continues.
I will give full credit to Gregg Araki for coming up with the term "Doom Generation." I fall well within this generation and have a birthday between generations X and Y. Sometimes, this generation gap seems to swallow me whole. But enough about me. Let's talk about jobs.
A woman has a plan to grab a loudspeaker and stand in the middle of Union Square. (This woman lives in San Francisco.) She recently lost her job and lives with a roommate who has two cats, one of which gets lost on a constant basis. The woman stands in Union Square, holding her loudspeaker and asks why everyone has forgotten her generation. Her generation used to be called the "MTV Generation." Apparently this term no longer applies to those born just after the death of disco (1979). She is too old...and will turn 30 in two months.
She states her resume, holding her roommate's cat under one arm and the loudspeaker in the other. Graduated from University of California Los Angeles in 2002...majored in something that doesn't really get many job offers now but seemed fun at the time. Multiple years working with kids. Multiple years dating the wrong people. Multiple years going to class and wandering around campus feeding the squirrels.
As she steps down from the upside down bucket she was standing on, one man claps for her. Accidentally, she puts the cat down instead of the loudspeaker without realizing it. Her search continues.
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