All these years and I still can’t read other people properly.
How old am I, anyway? What does it mean to be the age that I am? I was talking to someone important to me the other day about my first wristwatch. It needed winding. I broke it because I wound it too much. I was only four or five.
But she said that she hadn’t seen a wind-up watch. Or something to that effect.
What does it mean to have been writing papers about the fall of the Berlin Wall vs. writing papers about something else? I wish I understood more about identity and identity formation. But I don’t suppose it would help me anyway.
I don’t even know what “help” means in this context.
It was a foggy day. You couldn’t see more than maybe a block when I went to the archives. A little more when I left, but then it was raining. Chris stopped me at the door and asked if I was still as straight as I’d been for the last week or two. I told him I was. He said I needed an umbrella.
I still don’t know what to do with my wind-up watch and the jokes we were all telling at school after Challenger. I remember watching that on television.
I remember watching Reagan and Carter debate on television before Reagan got elected. My parents were happy about Reagan. My mom was an election observer that election. I went with her. The ballots were paper and they got put into little metal boxes that we then drove all over Glendale. I can’t remember where they ended up.
I remember sledding at midnight to grandmother+grandfather’s house just after Kara had learned to walk. There was a lot of snow that year.
This is what happens to you when you work on your God damned homework too fast and give yourself extra time to think. You either socialize (badly) or you think too damn much.
And then you retreat. 😉