employed hipster: now with 50% more hip.

Quick Hit: I'm not dead yet...

...just counting down to my last day of classes (TOMORROW) and my last day of school (FRIDAY) and my flight back to Boston (FRIDAY)!  Oh glee and exaltation.  Here are a few snippets from 3rd hour which should tide you over until I post pictures of the various wet t-shirt contests I hope to be viewing whilst in Provincetown this coming weekend.

Jules: Hey, Kee, do you love me?
Kee: Yes, why?
Jules: Can I have a Starburst?
Kee: You can kiss my ass.
Jules: Will that get me a Starburst?

Ren: What's a saggy taint?
Jules: Omg, really?!
Ren: I'm going to call you that from now on.
Jules: What do you have that I don't? (Note: Jules is male, Ren is female)
Kee: PUSSY!
Ms. Eh: KEE!!!!
Kee: I mean....VAGINA!

Quick Hit: Keep the Drive Alive! (baaaaby)

I'm going to print this out and glue it to my dashboard to keep me from swerving into a guardrail at 5:30 in the morning.

Lazy Sunday.

From the paper journal:

10:30 am - At the park, reading The Blind Assassin and watching a father and son explore a drainage ditch in front of me - the son in awe.  The phone in the house behind me is ringing, strange to have such mundane domesticity punctuate the busy race of the city dwellers walking, biking, skating, golfing, and "relaxing."

A little girl on an orange banana seat bike - she cannot stop riding - the forwardness of motion is overwhelming, unrelenting.  She's wearing glasses and a pink helmet and talking about how she never wants children.  She's probably around 11 or 12 and a hilariously clever little know-it-all.  The boy (James?  her brother?) is uncomfortable without his training wheels - he teeters unsteadily in stoic, exquisite panic.  The father and son continue to explore the ditch...

A mismatched couple (my knees are warm and poking through the wide gaps of last night's jeans).  I break, nobody talking, nobody walking by - a pause.  I remember a certain set of sounds, a deep mystery - a story without end.  Very serious - a rhythm without reason.  An apology - for what I do not know - for now I no longer know myself. 

You can only save so much from a house about to collapse - this moment, and the remembrance thereof  - will come with me as the ceiling crumbles and the wall curls like burnt paper under the weight of delicious decay.  My feet are burning...it's time to walk.