Hecho en China: a christmas list of relevations
2002-01-02 - 8:37 p.m.
Pre Sanctum: *This*, for once, is in very nearly chronological order.
Went for a short walk outside, because it was too warm in the house...went to smoke a clove on the courthouse steps, across the street. There was a leaf waiting for me, blowing in the wind. Upon closer inspection, I realized that one point of it had been stuck into the concrete of the building, on the underside of a single brick. There's no knowing how long that leaf had been there, hanging on one year after another. I decided, then, to start writing down and cataloging my questions...no longer can I wait around for spontaneous Answers to visit Mynd. You look into the glass doors and realize that you're just another kid, with a funky forehead. But another kid with a quirky smile. I've started to eveluate my options based on the number of hugs that await me down any given path. This is my life, and it's ending one leaf stuck in the concrete at a time.
I take it back. It seems, dear Archibald, that you can take the Step-brother out of heaven, but you can't take the heaven out of the step-brother. Sometimes I think that he is the sole person in this family that has kept Christmas an anual tradition.
Chistmas eve. Step-mother always does a special service on Christmas Eve, with candles and Silent Night songs and such. Pretty good service, considering that I didn't have to sign any forms or make any phone calls to get it...but I spent the whole two hours thinking about the whereabouts of Sister. She had left earlier that day without telling anyone where she was headed (she has her license now), and had been gone for nearly five hours. I had pretty much concluded to call the local police and have them search roadside ditches as soon as the service was over, but she showed up toward the end of the service, thank Allah's uncle-in-law.
Christmas. Pretty ordinary, with the exception that Sarah wasn't around...I got more books than anything else...
An analogy of sorts...it seems that intelligent life is found in the oddest oriffices of the universe. fick gizz two fuck ass pinch gizz two punch.
Somebody didn't call me when she said she would. Somebody called Lucy.
Left Christmas day for my mother's house, and stayed there a few days before heading over to Mitch's for winter camping. Mitch and his army-ranger cousin Dustin accompanying. Mitch got me a Patrick F. McManus compilation that would have come in handier if the sun hadn't set so early. Maybe becasue we couldn't get to sleep (it was a really bright night), and maybe because we had nothing else to talk about, we stumbled onto the subject of my family's messed-up-ness. Let it be known that Dustin was the first to coin the phrase 'brady bunch from hell'*, and this is only part of what made him deserving of the title 'qoo'. Not a bad wrestler/ninja either :)
After much pondering on the use of the phrase 'a hop, skip, and a jump away from such-and-such', I think I have discovered the root of the logic behind it. Let us consider the hop. A hop is an experimental movement in a direction...as if one is not sure of what one is doing, but seems sure of not looking too absurd while doing it. The skip, on the other hand, is casual�used only after one has become comfortable in skipping in/toward whatever is being skipped in/toward. The chance of skipping into a wall while not looking is observed to be much higher than that of hopping into a wall. This pattern of increasing chance-to-run-into-something-or-fall-in-a-pit-or-step-in-doggy-poo is carried into the elevated action of jumping. Jumping is often done out of necessity, or extreme want. Further, it has been observed that white men can�t do it. In the case of coke, then, we can see that the �hop� would be the first trial of the substance, the experiment. The �skip� would be the �fun time� for the user, before the drug has developed a tolerance in the user. The �jump�, the final step of addiction, would seal the user�s fate...as the children realize that the only way to make the head-hammer stop is to down another litre of syrupy liquid. As for the root of the logic behind the phrase �I�m gonna go see a man about a horse, eh?� The world may never know (although Mitch�s father has a pretty solid, yet rational, theory on it).
Played some games, screwed up a rubix cube, and messed around with logic proofs until New Year's rolled around. This year, I spent it with EmilyP and JenM (who I still think of as more of my sister's freinds than as Mitch's friends), Emily's boyfriend/roommate, a guy named Matt and a guy named Jared. Vodka and philosophy until 5am, and Denny's in the morning...and it was all pretty qoo.
All in all, I've met up with a great deal of people from places of the past. This is, indeed, my reasoning for naming this chapter of my diary with the name which I named it. I realized a bit more about each person, and things got a little bit clearer, like eating Kellog's (TM) again, for the first time (TM)...but really, there's no sense in boring my readers with the minor details of people that you most likely will never meet.
