The Weird Kid
Friday, September 12, 2008
Flip Side
I am a camel. I have filled my hump. Two weeks of experience to sustain me. But it is not a thorough analogy. Water refreshes a camel through a burning trek, and my life is not a hell like that. And I don't feel refreshed. I just feel filled up, heavy and sagging like a rotten biblical wineskin.
I have enough to blog myself into oblivion. Miserable stuff and incredible stuff that made my pupils dilate. Of course you're more likely to hear the miserable, because it needs telling more. For every whine, please understand there were three deep laughs and one "wow, this is amazing."
Jump right in.
Part the First "Imez leaves the Shire."
Smudge fell asleep 15 minutes before the plane landed in Pennsylvania, so I didn't have to see her questioning look dissolve into panic as I ran, truly ran, away from her. Sean walked beside me down the corridor, toward our different receptions, and because I knew I would not see him for 2 weeks I could not look at him then. I kissed my sleeping kid in her stroller, grabbed Sean's neck as a goodbye, and ran away with my bags. And Smudge's bag. Didn't find that out till about 80 miles later. Anyway.
My friendship with Leon is my deepest, and he may read this now, so you won't know all about him you might otherwise. That's just the way it is. He kept me for the first week of my journey. He goes to dental school, and lives in an apartment that is so perfect you won't see the like of it in movies. A set director would worry that the arched style and severe cleanliness would be inauthentic.
Leon builds strategic beauty around himself, a environment of stone and clean art. He had three red apples in his kitchen, sitting where they sat on purpose. They could be eaten, but that's not why they were put out. His bathroom shows no sign of messy, sweating life, nothing un-beautiful, nothing plastic but an electronic toothbrush, a tiny tower to future greatness.
The perfection, the heights in which he dwells, is a fortification. An irreproachability in a world that has spent every moment examining him for flaws and stabbing him where they were found. He unrolled what appeared to be an expensive micro-fiber faux-lambskin blanket for me the first night, from it's original packaging. Even his throw blankets were higher than necessary quality.
I said, "My god. Have you ever even been in a Wal-Mart?"
"Yes. I have. And it was awful."
Oh, look what I have poured out, already. I'll stop for tonight. But it's gotta come out sometime.
I have enough to blog myself into oblivion. Miserable stuff and incredible stuff that made my pupils dilate. Of course you're more likely to hear the miserable, because it needs telling more. For every whine, please understand there were three deep laughs and one "wow, this is amazing."
Jump right in.
Part the First "Imez leaves the Shire."
Smudge fell asleep 15 minutes before the plane landed in Pennsylvania, so I didn't have to see her questioning look dissolve into panic as I ran, truly ran, away from her. Sean walked beside me down the corridor, toward our different receptions, and because I knew I would not see him for 2 weeks I could not look at him then. I kissed my sleeping kid in her stroller, grabbed Sean's neck as a goodbye, and ran away with my bags. And Smudge's bag. Didn't find that out till about 80 miles later. Anyway.
My friendship with Leon is my deepest, and he may read this now, so you won't know all about him you might otherwise. That's just the way it is. He kept me for the first week of my journey. He goes to dental school, and lives in an apartment that is so perfect you won't see the like of it in movies. A set director would worry that the arched style and severe cleanliness would be inauthentic.
Leon builds strategic beauty around himself, a environment of stone and clean art. He had three red apples in his kitchen, sitting where they sat on purpose. They could be eaten, but that's not why they were put out. His bathroom shows no sign of messy, sweating life, nothing un-beautiful, nothing plastic but an electronic toothbrush, a tiny tower to future greatness.
The perfection, the heights in which he dwells, is a fortification. An irreproachability in a world that has spent every moment examining him for flaws and stabbing him where they were found. He unrolled what appeared to be an expensive micro-fiber faux-lambskin blanket for me the first night, from it's original packaging. Even his throw blankets were higher than necessary quality.
I said, "My god. Have you ever even been in a Wal-Mart?"
"Yes. I have. And it was awful."
Oh, look what I have poured out, already. I'll stop for tonight. But it's gotta come out sometime.
posted by Imez at 8:07 PM
1 Comments:
Did all that cleanliness make you feel a little worried? I'd be so terrified I'd spill red wine on a white carpet. Actually being around so much cleanliness would make me feel kinda dirty. I wonder what deep things are running around Leon's head to make him so clean. Interesting thought.
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