solitaire and suction cups

"Where's the pad of paper? You lied to me."

"Look, it's right here!"

"Now what am I supposed to do, cut open my finger and write with the blood?"

"Here, here's your pen. You're so violent."

Minutes later, I was offered a homegrown chocolate chip muffin, which I accepted with open arms. I retrieved a glass from the cupboard and filled it with ice, and then shuffled to the sink, where my train of thought ran off the rails and erupted into an inferno, and I decided to wash my hands instead of add water to my cup of ice. A notepad, pen, muffin, and glass of ice water sans water in hand, I ambled to a chair.

"I forgot to put water in my glass."

"Isn't that the sole reason as to why you just got a glass?"

"Yes."

Today has been a dark day in the history of Super Mario Kart. I came to Resa's around 7:30pm with the intent of helping her clean, because I was so wrought with boredom that I was willing to. However, with Resa's parents occupying the room that was to be subject to cleaning, one thing led to another and before I knew it the Super Nintendo was flicked on and I was being tossed a controller and the Super Mario Kart theme fell deaf under the System of a Down CD. We laughed, we cried -- we laughed because we cried. Our respective Super Mario Kart hit lists grew exponentially, and within seconds Princess Toadstool had laid a mushroom before me, rendering me dinky, and soon thereafter I found myself flattened given Bowser's sheer magnitude of weight on wheels. Resa was forced to backtrack after becoming trapped behind a wall, and when everyone had sped past her and into the pixelated horizon, her cart puttered onwards and she queried in a meek voice, "Where is everyone?" Seconds away from the finish line, I rounded the corner in a tangle of fury and an acceleration in my inventory, and after declaring something about zipping past the finish line of doom, I rose from fifth to third place. In the silence that followed, I laughed so that oxygen failed me, and my eyes filled with mirthful tears.

Present:

Afterwards, Resa and I trudged downstairs to the entryway with the intent of walking to an undetermined destination. Resa commented that her legs would be cold, gesturing towards her shorts.

"You should wear snow pants."

Resa scoffed at this. Recognizing this as a response to an inane suggestion, I immediately volunteered to wear the snow pants instead.

On a roll, we were eventually both decked out in snow pants, winter jackets, hats that provoked fits of laughter, and, to gift wrap the entire ensemble, sandals.

We made our way to Nick's house, and he debated whether to let us in, gaping at us in horror from the window adjacent to the door.

"Jim told us we could look at some sows out back," I drawled, knowing that my dripping-of-hick hat would accentuate my monotonous comment.

He then let us in, and after drinking flavored carbonated water and temporarily gaining control of his computer, we left just as mysteriously as we had arrived, but not before I had nonchalantly attempted to steal Nick's shoes in the process by slipping my sandal-adorned feet into their imitation-suade depths.

At one point before Resa and I had decided it was time to leave, Resa announced that her favorite flavor was water, and that she enjoyed water-flavored popsicles.

"It's called ice, buddy," I replied, not tearing my gaze from the computer. In an attempt to ammend herself, she added that ice doesn't come with sticks, but her comment was lost amid laughter.

Today's been slow. I woke up at noon after falling asleep around two in the morning, and ventured outside the house only to purchase an iced coffee beverage and drive in endless, sickening circles jotting down phone numbers of apartment complexes with vacancies. Because Pat will be here in about twenty-three days, I offered last week to scope out some places that he could afford. Since then, I've been drifting between the TV and the computer.

Needless to say, I'm about to wet my pants. I can't handle such lofty degrees of heart-pounding excitement. All I need now is a game of solitaire. I'm pressing a suction cup against my forehead, a suction cup with a piece of wire and a small Looney Tunes figurine dangling from one end. You know that frog that busts out into song and dance when only a select individual is watching? That's the one.

Now that I've stooped to such regrettable levels of intoxicating boredom, I think I'll do some biology worksheets.

And I think I'm the only person who would purposely get lost just to give myself an excuse to finish listening to a song on the radio.