September 25, 2002
Black Friday
So. Pepe the Jedi, otherwise known as Jill's Pet Turtle, finally ate today. And his water is nice and toasty and he is currently ramming into the side of his tank in vain efforts to attack the other turtles that are quite obviously only his own reflection.
I feel better, now that I have finished my Political Science paper. I will feel best, however, once I call Mike and profess my lunacy to him.
Yesterday, when he was supposed to be gone, he was not. So I rode back to Cincinnati with Kelsi and met up with him at the library. We searched in vain for Arsenic and Old Lace, but due to the cursed circulation standards of Hamilton County libraries it had been discarded.
We retire to his home, where, being the pasty individuals that we are, we dragged pillows and stereo onto the porch and basked in the sun to the sweet tunes of the Smashing Pumpkins, 'Adore.' Kasey interrupted out relishing of the sweet weather by shouting some obscenity from his porch. It was decided that we would venture out into the great wide world in search of a place for frisbee golf. Off we went.
The backwoods of Kentucky opened its arms to us, and we infiltrated a certain sports park so as to use one of their fields. We threw the frisbee to eachother. I am nightmarishly bad. Mike, Kasey, and his girl Katie are all fairly good.
I had fun anyway. It got so dark that we could no longer see the black frisbee, and our laughter went spiralling up into the purple and navy blue sky, bumping heads with the clouds that covered the starlight we had hoped for.
On the ride back home Mike pushed up the arm rest and beckoned that I come and sit alongside him. I did so, shifting gears when necessary as his hands were occupied both with the wheel and my hair.
I was sad. I cannot help it. Sometimes... sometimes things inside start crumbling and then I am fumbling and I cannot see that path formerly so clear. There is something in my way. I think it is me.
So I was foolish. Friday isn't far away. And it isn't him I'm sad for. It's me. It's me and these decisions I make both blindly and aggressively, these decisions that have both infinite sway and no meaning whatsoever. I can't dictate life, not even my own. That both scares and satisfies me.
So I was sad.
I shall appease myself now by remembering giggling in his bed. I am slung back in his arms, hanging over the edge.
"I'm falling! I'm going to fall!"
Mike smiles wickedly, sweeping me up and kissing my lips.
"You already fell." Another grin. "For me."
astera at 12:12 p.m.