Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Mold and mold but no mould

Is it still considered a donation if I "left" my old issue of NY magazine in my job's break room and it just happened to be all crinkly from getting wet via an open window in my car and a rainy day? And it is missing pages due to god knows what. I didn't intentionally leave it in there but I'm afraid everyone will think I did since I do sometimes leave recent issues behind when I'm done with them. The crosswords are usually already half finished by me which, if I'm being honest, would annoy me if I had picked up a stray magazine. I hate looking at in flight magazines and discovering pages missing or crosswords done. Meh, I don't actually think anyone reads it anyway. I just feel a bit grotty having left it in there.

Speaking of grotty, here's a PSA. The library doesn't want your moldy encyclopedias from Aunt Misty's basement. The collection you hold in your possession as part of her will, likely thrown together in 1981 by some sweating lawyer named Marv, stinks and is out of date and if, while you are packing it in bags to bring to your library and you find you are holding your breath so as not ingest spores of mold, just throw it away. Ditto for romance novel paperbacks that reek of cigarette smoke. Aside from the fact that they are odoriferous, they make me think of old women in housecoats, drinking sherry in a creaking rocking chair, feet enveloped in thick white gym socks and furry slippers, Wheel of Fortune blaring in the background,chain smoking and ruminating over Fabio's abdominals. Those are not going to be added to the collection. They are disgusting, despite the fact that your Aunt Misty was probably a lovely woman though she could have used your help cleaning the book collection in her basement, you ingrate. After all she did for you!

No, thank  you.  

In other news, the majority of my thoughts have been focused on one person. I'm in the stage of infatuation that tints everything in my world with a strange, but familiar color. But because I don't know him very well at all, because I have had a LOT of time to conjure up the person I think he is and just enough alone time with him to add a dollop of reality to this mold of a person I've invented, all of my thoughts are, in the end, only half formed. Or distorted versions of the original. I'm learning the actual black and white of him very, very slowly. So slowly in fact that I've fashioned my own transparent color sheets to put over the screens.

That's from this cool website, btw.

I've also been thinking a lot about how it is exactly that people truly get to know other people. All the people I currently know in my life seemed to just happen to me. They were there, I got to know them. And that was all. Seems so simple when it has already happened. When did this get so complicated?

I'm off to go in search of something more simple. A streamlined activity. Late night yoga? Late night french fries? A warm bath? Maybe I should borrow some romance novels from work and smoke in them. I'll let you know what I decide.

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