Sunday, June 06, 2004

Yesterday I was bored and had nothing to do and I was depressed because I had a sleepover at Dante's house (and Dante just _makes_ me depressed; especially when his house is involved, because it has a freaky evil presence that keeps me on my toes), and so when I got home and the house was empty, I did the unthinkable and cleaned the kitchen.

Now, just so you know, I'm going to be the worst housewife in the history of housewifery when I grow up and get married and find a beautiful husband with the uncanny ability to eat his wife and then promptly regurgitate her, because I am a slob. (No, he will regurgitate me because I would rather not be digested, as alluring as that sounds. I will be a bad housewife because I am a slob.) My house frequently looks like it was hit by a hurricane. My game controllers are strewn about in such a mess that my mom cannot tell a GameCube from a Saturn; and, of course, the dishes pile up to be as big as a mountain, because my mom is a slob too and was kind enough to pass the gene to me.

So! I go to thinking. Actually, I got to not-thinking, which helped, because I was very stressed out that day. You see, I had been at a friend's graduation at the hippie school, and I felt sad because I was going to graduate from No-Name U., the community college, with nobody who will recognize me to present my diploma. (Besides, their high school graduation will have, like, five people. This will be a distinction for me, oh girl who volunteers to go to college early, but it won't be very glamorous.) The teachers also talked about everything wonderful about the students they were graduating, and I thought... since I'm so private all the time, and I don't really talk all that much... what would they say about me, oh girl who was intellectually asleep at her time in the school? Even if I did come back just to graduate here, what would they say besides the usual things that I'm nice and I like videogames?

Oh, but I met Amazing Girl there, who will henceforth be referred to by nothing but Amazing Girl. You see, AG can talk, write, paint, draw, and think better than your average, um, 270-and-a-half-year-old, and I've always looked up to her while we were both at the school (not very long). She also has a beautiful boyfriend, naturally, and they're engaged to be married (engage! Make it so!), and she's going to study to be a nurse and a painter and then buy a farm and live there forever and ever and have lots of babies (she is also very blunt, which is one of the best things about her; if she needs to tell you something, she will). I was amazed by this vision (nothing, but NOTHING, like my fantasy of being a trashy housewife/novelist that everybody thinks is a ditz but is actually happier than everybody else) and told her, "you've planned out the most wonderful life!" I was tempted to say something like, "It's Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life for Amazing Girl" but that would be both cheesy and obscure, although that is what I do best.

So! Back at home, moping about this and various other things, I tried to clear my mind and think about nothing at all. This helped, because later I thought... now that my tenant has moved out (sad...), and there's nobody to clean the dishes, and I want to be a housewife when I grow up, and I want to buy Harvest Moon so that I can do boring chores and stare at butterflies and think about boys... I ought to do the unthinkable and clean the kitchen. Fifteen Jet Set Radio songs later, the sink sparkled with no-dishedness, the cupboards were full with our full supply of things on which to eat, and our dishwasher had another load ready to go. I had completed level 1 of Harvest Moon: Leticia's Dishwasher. Life was good.

Now... I just need a boyfriend.


(No no no! I am perfectly self-sufficient, or at least me and the Sonic action figure that stares at me lovingly from the top of my computer. You do love me, right, Sonic?)
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