132192148225

I have a snapshot -- a Polaroid -- of an elephant. I collect elephants. They are my power animal. They are very big -- they have a presence -- and they are very strong, intelligent, resourceful, and for the most part mellow. But when seriously provoked or in times of necessity, they are fierce and destructive. Unstoppable.
So, I have a large elephant collection. Probably in the range of forty to fifty these days.... I have figures, jewelry, novelties (erasers, watering cans, candles, just a whole grouping of less typical things), I have art work, and Christmas ornaments. Lots of things. And someday, when I have my own house, I will have elephants all around me! In the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom, the dinning room! Probably even in the kitchen. And somewhere in all of that... there will be a little, dirty Polaroid picture of an elephant.
An elephant from a carnival or a circus of some sort... with two people on in -- a mother and her little son. I found it in a parking lot. I found a memory from somebody else's life. A snapshot of a moment in their life that they may have cherished, or loved, or thought was something very fun and special. But then their memory got blown out of the car door or window, or it flew out of a book.. maybe fell out of a purse. And, well, maybe they don't remember it anymore. Because they don't have that photograph to remember it by. But it's not a memory that goes un-cherished. I love that picture. Two, happy mother and son, at a carnival got to ride the elephant and get their picture taken. I put it up at my desk as if it were my own memory. Maybe someday I'll even have my own picture of me on an elephant to put next to it.
I love having those little peaks, those snapshots into other people's lives every now and then. It gives me perspective on the universe. I think it's the same reason why I like garage sales. I find it especially funny when I find something at a garage sale that matches something I've had in my house. Usually it's a dish pattern on a plate or a bowl, sometimes it's the same cookie can... I love knowing that these things that are so familiar to me in my childhood were so familiar to someone else. Once at a garage sale, (and this may be my greatest regret!), I saw a small framed photograph of a close-up of about four or five elephant asses crowded at a watering hole. I didn't have any money, but I commented on it, and the lady laughed. I told her about my collection, and she said, "Yeah, I love that picture. I was hoping somebody would come along and think it was funny too." I didn't go back to get it. I really would have liked to have it, though. I would hang it in the bathroom.

Lottery

Ideally, I think it would have been nice to have gotten some work done in the four hours I've been sitting here trying to learn how to sleep with my eyes open. ...As creepy as I think that is, there are too many people around the office for me to get away with napping under the desk. God willing, I'll have all this done by tomorrow afternoon. I disapprove of how auxiliary things are interminably put-off as new work, with sooner deadlines, arises. Things like building a résumé and ordering new contacts and researching for long-term projects and filling out W-2 forms... and sometimes sleeping or eating.... these things are on hiatus. Permanently?
...That one kid owes me money.
I can't wait till spring.
My grandmother used to say, "Don't wish your life away!" but in my opinion, it makes things go faster. Which we both acknowledge is exactly the point. We just view it differently. I think it would be to my benefit to pass through some parts of life more quickly than others.

Let's go to Virginia Beach. I think it would be wonderful! A change of scenery... a break. It would be warmer. Pleasant. We would have fun. It wouldn't be warm enough to swim, but we could go out to the bars, maybe see a movie... I don't know what we would do, but I know it's what we need. We just need to get out of these dark, moldy basements. I would very much like to take some leave from the war against ants. I've stayed on the Front too long. ...And how I now hate the ants.

I was recently in conversation with a friend, and I noted how disappointed I was that I no longer had any desire to rule the world. I said that it was the only thing I was suited for.
...I wasn't lying.
It was the only thing I was suited for, and now I'm not suited for anything...
That's what I said. And I still believe it. There was a time when I was the mafia, and the C.E.O. and the hero, and the sidekick. I was very powerful once... but I am no longer these things. Now, I don't know what to do with myself. It was easy when I was incredible. I could have done anything. But I lack the same will I used to have. I can still do anything, but I can't do it for myself anymore. I need someone to tell me to do it, and then I will do it for them. I don't know what I want for myself anymore. And once, when it was very clear to me, I knew everything. I had my life planned out to the most miniscule details. But I don't care anymore. I want a house someday, and a family. I want a job somewhere, and a paycheck. I want a résumé and a pair of cowboy boots. I want the time to soak my infected earring in saline solution... because it really hurts, but I have to attend to the more immediate things that keep coming without any breaks. But again with the hiatus.

I think I miss my phone that has the button that pauses time. That can come in handy, you know.

A little less cream and sugar.

I wonder how many times the world will spin before it spins itself upside-down. I, for one, am anxiously awaiting the polar shift. I expect it to happen within the next couple hundred years or so -- quite soon! in the grand scheme of things, any geologist will tell you. I am convinced of its approach. And I wonder if that... is the thing....

I always wonder why I am living in this time. When you die, and you walk to the bus stop of heaven you have to wait there until you decide which bus you want to get on. And then you have to wait for the bus. The bus to whichever time, space, place, universe you want to go to. When you are at the bus stop, you know everything. But by the time you are born into your choice world, you know nothing. By then, you have to trust fate enough to keep lead you on the path your life is supposed to go. Well, whatever else that means, it means that you're living where you are for a reason.
What is the reason that I am here now!? Is it stem cell research? World War III? The OSU Buckeyes' most amazing season ever?! I wonder if it's because of how far the world has come in technology -- this explosion! of information sharing and computer development -- in just such a short time, giving us walkmans, to discmans, to ipods, and digital cameras, and cell phones, and cell phones that are digital cameras! Everything with a whole, tiny computer inside.... I wonder what other things might happen, and in my lifetime!, that would make this lifetime worth living in. What could I possibly think the greatest thing in the history of the entire. universe. could be... that I would choose now.. over any other time. anywhere.
This is all a little watered down, but, well, I hate the details. It involves a lot of time in the dark. And I am very afraid of the dark. ...Although, I became a little less afraid after spending so much time in it. Your eyes adjust. ...But it doesn't make it any less dark -- just more bearable.

So. To review. It is at last, once again, Friday. I will finish my German work while at work today, go to class, and go to my doctor's appointment. Then I will donate plasma, and get drunk, and probably die because of all that. On Saturday, I will meet with a landlord to see some places, and study for midterms. And all in the meantime, I will stress, and worry, and wonder. I will love my man, and cook him food, and iron his good shirt. I will call my parents, and talk to them about money and apartments. And for myself, I will watch Lawrence of Arabia. And then I will feel empowered, and strong, and warm... because it happens in the desert. I swear to god, someday I will get to a desert.

And now, I leave you.