The shitty thing about long pauses between posts is that too many noteworthy things happen and how on Earth am I to decide which of them to write about if I am uncharacteristically fortunate enough to remember them all? So what ends up happening is that when life is so kind as to fuck off and leave me alone for a moment and I have the chance to write, I write about the most recent thing that has happened, even though it may be the most trivial. Like the Blathering Breasties in the changeroom at the gym last weekend.
Sadly, I didn’t get a moment last week to tell you about the latest wonderful Airbnb guests I had and the beautiful bouquet of flowers they left for me as a thank you in my appartment. Yet another incredible testament of that wonderful side of humans we so rarely get to hear about. Or how I finally FINALLY had the courage to go through my closet and donate to Goodwill every single piece of clothing I have not worn in the past year (more than half of what I owned) and how really scary that was to do and incredibly good it felt afterward. Or how I started reading the book I had bought when I was still with the ex and bought specifically because of the uncanny parallels between the ex and I which now that we have broken up has markedly less appeal but which I started to read anyway and in a maybe-there’s-a-God-after-all kind of way the husband (my ex) DIES in the very first chapter.
Absolutely fucking brilliant.
And many, many other lovely little slices of life.
Instead I am going to share the amusing conversation I just had via the world wide web.
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Hey, Sailor (he listed his occupation as « sailor. » Clearly he takes this site as seriously as I do). What’s cooking? (Seriously, what are you making in that photo?)
Oh that ol’ thing?
I was making gingerbread for a gingerbread house.
I am really good at baking, but bad at making houses, it turns out.
You’re really good at baking, huh? Who says? Baking what? I’m just running out to grab a coffee before recess ends…brb…
People talk about my baking…
I haven’t done it in a while.
Cookies, banana bread and butter tarts are my area of expertise.
I don’t remember the last time I heard the word ‘recess’
Haha. What about the word « duty? » As in yard duty. The kids always say: You said duty! It also means poo. I agree with them. It’s funny.
Well I messaged you because it’s Passover and there are no kids here today so I am perusing this site which, as I have been saying as of late, is akin to the train wreck you can’t pull your eyes from. Generally. But I loved the expression on your face of your profile photo (I cringe at the word « pic »). It sums up how I generally feel about this site. Yet here I am.
P.S. Tell people I say « Hello…and I’ll be the judge of that, thanks. »
P.P.S. « Undisclosed body type » Just saw that. Fucking love it, excuse my English (I find it offensive when people swear and then say « Excuse my French. » It’s fucking English, excuse my English).
You should tell them they are right.
Yard duty does mean poop.
Cause you have to watch little shits on recess.
I wonder what that’s all about.
Goat sacrifices, I bet.
This site is ridiculous.
I don’t think its a healthy way to meet people, but here we are. Haha.
If you’re judging my baking, you have to literally dress like a judge.
P.S. I don’t even have a body. I’m just a head sitting on a platter.
Easy for tossing out an oops-by-fluke open window when, inevitably, something stupid is said. 😉 Perfect. Must be a challenge when baking, though.
I’ve explained Mine Self, but how does Thine Self have so much time for train wreck gazing today?
They are little shits, yes. Most are cute and hilarious. But to some I want to say: You will always be an ashhole.
Punting someones head out the window would be pretty invigorating after a boring conversation. I’ve been out with a few people I would have payed to toss their heads out a window.
Thine self? Haha
Did you LARP last weekend?
Well, I don’t work your traditional hours. Whereas you were home all weekend nursing hangovers no doubt, I was at work. So today is my day off. Its kinda ok outside today. Yard duty would have been alright, I bet.
How are you? Things here at school are good. Yard duty was nice; the sun shining on my face, the wind blowing in my hair. Furthermore, there were only forty kids instead of four hundred to ruin the bliss.
I’m not sure if I am embarassed or proud to tell you I don’t know what LARP is. Laugh at random people? If yes, then yes, I did do this last weekend. Lick a red pencil? If yes, then no. I am open to new experiences, however.
Well. Your turn, I guess.
Send money for candy.
Well heck, thats a lot of Jewish kids at that school.
I would have said I was Jewish just to get out of school today.
Those 40 kids must be the slow ones.
It’s probably best you don’t know what larping is. And nice that your guesses weren’t disgusting. Thank you for that.
I’m not sure if you can watch and listen to this…
but here’s some LARP background…
and yes I picture you doing this…
What kind of candy? I love Gummi things.
How on Earth do you know about this larping business?
I watched the video.
Short story for you.
I once met someone at a Sex Pistols concert.
He proceeded to mail me a letter, inviting me to an all-night Bean-a-thon.
As in Mr. Bean.
Like you, he seemed pretty cool at first.
Please tell me that video wasn’t a lead-up/feel-out for an invite to a sexy match of larping one evening.
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Like with the super funny email from Good Friend John I included in the post « I need a favour. Bitch, » I did have to go back and fix up a few spelling mistakes, as well as some improper uses of the word « of » instead of « have, » before secretly publishing our little conversation without this person’s knowlege or permission. But unlike with the super funny email from Good Friend John, I am clearly the wittier person in the exchange this time. Ha! Still, overall, I enjoyed it. But I shall stop there. And. I will let you know what. If anything. Transpires.
The funny thing is, as I was saying to a friend earlier this week, I don’t know if it is due to my age, or the fact that I know I am going away to Paris for the summer shortly, but now when I meet people, I no longer evaluate them/us for the long-term, or prematurely dream of our future, or really take it terribly serious at all. I just think: is this fun or not fun? If fun, maybe we’ll do it again. If not fun, we shouldn’t. If I get one good conversation, one pleasant hour out of it, then…mission accomplished. If it is painful, I really have a hard time covering up the fact.
It’s a gorgeous, sunshiney day. I am going to run and do The Baldwin Steps.
I apologize for the mediocrity of this post.