Friday, September 26, 2008

Someone Just Took My Apple

It was right here. I swear. I left my apple right here and now it is gone. I made sure to put a napkin underneath it so that the germs that hide on my desk don't merge with my delicious snack. It was a Honeycrisp. Those babies cost 2.99 a pound and are only in season for like a month. September... and a little bit of October but the October Honeycrisps don't really taste as good as the late September Honeycrisp.

So I guess I have to blame Otto (the guy who sits in the cube to my left). He's always talked about never having a Honeycrisp and always wanting to try one but never being able to allow himself to pay that kind of money for a piece of fruit. He supports McCain and loves Palin. Which makes sense because he's stupid. The dick doesn't even hunt and I bet if he did he wouldn't know how to skin or prepare any of the meat he killed. He would probably shoot a deer (on accident of course) and then just leave it there because he doesn't want to get his stupid car dirty. I hate cars. And I hate Otto: the Honeycrisp stealing, Sarah Palin Supporting, dickbag.

I think I'm going to confront him. I'll go right up to him and say, "Hey dick. Where's my Honeycrisp?Or did you spooge all over it when you were masturbating to those fake Palin pictures of her in that ugly apartment with the polyester skirt." And who the fuck thinks polyester skirts are sexy? Maybe when I was in Junior High and Mrs. Tattlebaum used to rock them but now... come the fuck on. If I ever saw some chick rocking that I would totally be like, what? Why are you rocking that shit? Don't you know it's 99 degrees today. Stupid bitch.

I just want my Honeycrisp back and everything will be cool.

Friday, August 29, 2008


James said you would never come over.
Yes it is.
So should I do anything.
No. Just stand there. I'll figure it out. You look familiar but I've been to a lot of places so maybe you just look like somebody I've seen somewhere. You haven't been in Prague, have you?
That's too bad. It's a beautiful place and not because it is inexpensive, I don't care about that materialistic bullshit. It's the architecture. The smell of the place. I'm a real fragrant person. The Doctor told my mother when I was a baby that I had a heightened sense of smell. People sometimes think I'm weird because I can tell if a place is going to be good - like a restaurant or bar or gallery - by walking in and smelling it. Do you think that is weird?
Me either. James never said you were smart. He knows I crave intelligence. So have you heard about the latest gallery opening in Latham, it's a small town south of Crakesville. Their showcasing one of my pieces. Would you like to come? I can put you on the guest list but you have to promise to come because I only get a few people to put on my list. I feel like some rockstar, putting people on the guest list. Isn't that stupid. Lists. Fucken lists.
I guess so.
Do you mean you guess you want to come to my opening or you think lists are lame?
The first.
Okay. I'll call James and put you on the list like some goddamned rockstar who sleeps with goupies and does lines of coke off their tits.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Sara ( The Beginning)

Sara was a girl who thought she knew what she wanted. She thought the world was a good place, love was easy to find, and that people actually cared for her. In the end, the world turned on her (or so she thought. Actually, the world kept doing exactly what it had been doing all along) and her dreams never materialized.

"There he is." She said.

"That guy?" James said.

"Yes. That's him. What do you think?"

"He's really tall."

It was the only compliment I can think of. The guy wasn't even that tall, maybe six foot one. He looked like someone you would meet at a one of those surfer clothing stores where 90% of the clientelle has never even paddled on a surfboard let alone surfed. He had two tattoos that I could see and and they both were black tribal bands, the type that hadn't been cool since 1998. I'm also pretty sure this guy wasn't in any tribe.

"He says he would totally marry me. Isn't that weird?"

I had to be careful because this question was not asked in a way that required an honest answer. She probably thought it was weird but in a good way; the way some girls think being spontaneous is weird or bringing flowers home is weird or having sex in a car right before going to the gym is weird.

"He looks okay. I think he's just trying to tell you he likes you a lot."

"Yeah, but I don't want to go and get married right now. I don't even know if I want a relationship. I'm just looking for something steady, someone to hook up with on a regular basis."

She wanted a relationship. She wanted a guy to come to her house, have sex with her all night and in the morning stick around to make blueberry pancakes and maybe be a positive role model for her two teenage boys. All great reasons to be in a relationship and things that every woman pushing 40 with two kids would want. The fact that she pretended that this was something she did not want made me feel uneasy. How can a person be that fucked up? How can someone consciously want to be a depressing story their friends tell to their other friends on drinking nights?

"So are you gonna go out with him tonight?"

"Yeah but I really don't want to. I didn't even get dressed up for it."

She was wearing a new blouse with her favorite shoes.

"Just go. Get to know him. Maybe you guys will fall in love or something."

They didn't fall in love. In fact, Sara did what she did with most of her dates: drank, fucked, slept. In that order. She woke up with the same sick feeling she always had after dates. She felt used but tried to tell herself that he was the one being used, tried to tell herself that she had wanted exactly what had happened to happen. She packed her pipe with some weed that her date had left on the table while he was trying to roll a joint the night before. She got high and forgot all about him and started to think about what she had to do for the rest of the day. Maybe, she thought, she could take her kids to the beach (she knew her oldest would decline the offer but felt it necessary to ask him as well).

"Morning Kaelan. Do you want to go to the beach today? Where's your brother?"

Kaelan was only 13 but knew when his mother was stoned because she always asked questions without waiting for answers when she was.

"He went to his girlfriends house I think. I'll go to the beach. Can we get breakfast at McDonalds first?"

"I hate McDonalds. How 'bout I make you something? We can do pancakes... with blueberries or waffles. I have that waffle iron I never use. Yeah, we'll do that, you can help."

"But that's going to take forever. We can be in and out of the drive-thru in about 10 minutes."

Sara thought about Kaelan's health teacher, who had mentioned that Kaelan's weight was becoming a problem. She shrugged it off as another authority figure trying to control her life at the time but now whenever Kaelan mentioned food she thought about the teacher.

"We'll make breakfast. It'll be fun, you can tell me about school and what you've been up to. Where's Kitty? Have you guys fed her? I swear, you guys don't help with anything around here. Kitty! Come here Kitty!"

"She's in the back. I'll go get her."

James is going to pretend like he forgot about my date on Friday and I'm not going to remind him about it. Fuck him. If he really cared about my life he would ask about my fucken dates and not be such an asshole about it. I'm totally going to avoid him today just to see if he really cares about me.



"So how did your date go? Was it a love connection?"

That dick. He's always joking about shit. I swear, I'm never going to tel him anything anymore.

"It was okay. I told you I wasn't really into him. He was kind of a dork. Didn't really have much to say."

"I told you he was lame. Who throws out the marriage proposal after the second conversation?"

"He did mention the marriage thing a few times. I think he realized it was weird."