Last week, I had to park somewhere and ended up finding a spot in front of a senior center. After I pulled over and got out of my car to get some stuff from my trunk, another car pulled up behind my car. It was a very old, rundown looking car and it looked like something a gangster would drive.
While I was rummaging through the stuff in my trunk, the people in the car behind me stayed inside with their headlights on. Since there were a few valuable things in my car, I kept spying the suspicious vehicle with my peripheral vision. Suddenly, their car door opened. Startled, I slammed the door and ran across the street with some of my belongings.
When I looked back, I realized it was... an old couple going to bingo night. Now I know that gangsters aren't the ONLY people who drive 1965 Cadillacs. Old people apparently do too.
Last night, I had a dream that I had a little cousin who was half-white. My dad was mainly taking care of him, but there were a few moments I had to keep him. He was a handsome little toddler (even though he was imaginary), but his cuteness disappeared when I realized he had pooped his diaper while in my possession.
I'm twenty one now. I'm not super old or anything, but I think after living over a couple decades, one should know how to do basic housework, errands, duties etc. The "pleasure" of changing a baby's diaper is not a skill I have put to the test (yet). Couple my lack of experience with the fact that this was a dream, and it's easy to understand that I didn't really know what to do.
In any case, there were two points of interest during this "slow, mundane night at the dream factory." One: when I poked the baby's diaper, I felt its poop mushing around inside and it felt WARM. I don't remember any recent time where I felt localized temperatures in a dream. Two: I SMELLED its poop. At this point I woke up.
Based on my experience with dreams, if there are any sensations in a dream that feel really realistic, usually they are real. For example, that time when I heard a midi version of "Arabesque," while I was rollerblading through the woods in hot pursuit of a purple genie? That was my actual cell phone alarm going off. Or the time where I felt an uncanny desire to pour water into a plastic bottle while I was in a car and I missed so the water got all over the place? Well, that was me wetting my bed.
[It happened when I was little! Honest!]
In any case, I never found out what smelled so funny. I'm sure it has something to do with repressed emotions or something.
When I first came to college, I met a group of five or six people. Though I didn't idolize them, I thought they were all very cool and hoped that, someday, I would be part of, or at least an accessory to, their clique.
I never did grow close to them. Back then, I would often hypothesize the reasons for our lack of cohesion. Most of the time, I just assumed that my interests did not really resonate with theirs. As time went on, I went my separate way as a natural consequence to our lack of chemistry.
Now that I'm a few years wiser and have the benefit of retrospection, I've come up with a new, probably more accurate theory: This group was simply full of mean people.
Well, there is one exception (a person to whom I am still friends with), but the more and more I think about the rest of the individuals in that group, the less surprised I am that I never had a significant stake in its friendship. Each person in the clique interacted with each other very exclusively and wasn't exactly open to people like me.
I don't really know if anyone else had issues with them, but let's just say I'm pleased that I was able to move past my desire for their attention. I'm sure that's the way they wanted it anyway.
In other words, three girls who were so pretty that I was too intimidated to talk to. I know this sounds like one of those "missed connections" posts on craigslist, but I thought it would be fun to write about something of the sort since fall is beginning and I will no longer have my summer time crushes! Here's a little m-flo to compliment my whimsies.
T - Have you ever looked at a particular person and just said to yourself, "That weird dude looks like an aardvark"? To me, a lot of people resemble some sort of animal. I have a friend whose piercing gaze reminds me of a wolf. The rounded features and nearly nonexistent neck of another friend shows a strong likeness to a sea turtle. As for T, she looks like a puppy, and I don't mean yelpy Chihuahua puppy. I'm talking about sparkley-eyed, dog show blue ribbon Welsh Corgi. I talked to T a total of one this summer and it wasa simple "Good morning, T." Actually... I think I just waved. Looks like I didn't talk to her at all...
Tall Taiwanese girl in my game theory class - I never caught her name, but I was probably smitten because of that anonymity! She was tall and slender like a model, but she dressed like one of those Hot topic girls with about a thousand percent less intensity (oh and no make up). She would also keep her mouth closed when she smiled, which gave her a refined, soft spoken look. After a few weeks, she started wearing glasses, which, for some reason, made her even more attractive. I didn't talk to her at all and whenever I passed handouts to her, she wouldn't even look at me. OH THE MELANCHOLY OF UNREQUITED LOVE!
A - I actually wasn't afraid of talking to A. I shared an appreciable conversation one or two times on the bus and we ran into each other on campus every once in a while. Unfortunately, this doesn't make for a very noteworthy story. OH WELL.
I've had my share of frozen yogurt in the past few years. I still remember the first day I spent about six dollars on a pound of cold, sour paste, but that was just the beginning of my journey: A frosty, delicious journey in pursuit of a truly sublime spoonful of frozen yogurt.
When I was a juvenile yogurt connoisseur, my favorite flavor was cookies and cream. My first experience with cookies and cream was a roller coaster of emotion. I was excited that there was an ice cream flavor in the midst of all the inaccessible tart varieties. I quickly situated my sample cup underneath the yogurt dispenser, and as I pulled the lever, I was appalled.
Cookies and cream, one of my favorite ice cream flavors, is a slightly darkened white that is speckled with Oreo-like cookie crumbs and pieces. Needless to say, I was not at all impressed with the muddy gray stuff that was spewing sloppily into the small paper cup. After a few moments of skepticism, I took a bite.
I was instantly thrown into a flashback of my grandma using a teaspoon to fill a cracked ice cream cone with that sweet and creamy treat as I watched judiciously to make absolutely sure that she didn't give any extra scoops to my brother. This familiarity flooded me with delight as I replaced my sample cup under the dispenser for a refill. It was an incredible experience.
Well, incredible at the time. As I experimented with the same flavor at different yogurt stores, I found it to have the most consistent recipe out of all the flavors. Nearly all locations I visited featured the same cheap, syrupy flavor as well as the same dull gray color. I never got the same feeling as I did on my first time.
I don't dislike cookies and cream. I'll get it every once in a while, but after trying more unique flavors (like green tea tart), it's clear that cookies and cream's mindlessly sweet character is a bit one dimensional.
Interestingly, my relationship with pistachio flavor was the exact opposite of that of cookies and cream, but that's "on the next Arrested Development."
[To Arrested Development n00bs: that means it's not going to be in the next episode]
