Oh, bite me, existentialist lead-off questions.
Let’s start somewhere better.
Let’s get off on the awkward left foot.
A fact! A bit of trivia, for your estimating eyes alone.
I love the sound and sensation of cracking bones.
Or ‘ligaments,’ if you’re gonna go picayune particular on me.
Q. Don’t trifle with me. Who, precisely, are you?
Sophia. Twenty two, now. Too late for sugar mountain.
(Neil Young reference. +8 Friendship if you caught it.)
Graduated Philosophy major, English and History minors.
I love children’s movies because they’re such naked parables.
I laugh hearty and hard. Like, beef soup hearty, with biscuits and everything.
I love 5 AM. I like being awake exactly then, because it’s so secret, so hush, so heroic.
You eat cheerios, and listen to music, and the day begins. No flash. No fireworks.
But there was that lonely hour, when you might have been the only one awake,
and no matter how the day goes thereon, you have that private miracle.
And I rather like that.
Q. What else do you like?
I miss Reboot, and The Brave Little Toaster,
and that secret sense that that what you touch may also touch you back:
the toaster marvels over your pastries and strudels, the tanning bed over your pasty knees.
I used to like waking up on rainy days because it used to mean, “Relax, babycakes.”
“Go clinomaniac, get yourself under the covers, catnap to heart’s content.”
I like when my dog nudges my hand for a loving pat, and getting mail unexpectedly.
Q. Spare us the rant. What’s your journal like? Diary of the century? Move over Anne Frank?
Tumbleweeds, currently, but getting on track, shortly.
I rant, I rave. I get sweet on teenage dreamboats.
I might wax philosophical, or go gaga over rain boots.
I argue and comment to myself en quotes. “Like so.”
It’s an expression of audience-awareness, and my last resort before laugh-tracks.
As you’ve perhaps noticed, I abuse italics like nobody’s business.
For those interested in a little action-adventure, I’m applying to graduate schools at the mo'.
Which is more for something to while away the next five years than anything else.
Either way, I'm going to try to do something incredible in the next two years.
That's more personal mantra than diary advertisement, promise.
Q. What do you want in a friend?
You know those comment conversations that last days?
I want those. I never had them, due in large part to my lag in getting to them,
and sometimes owing to disinterest on readers’ part. Whatever.
I’d like some friends like that.
I’ve had some good ones, and through this community!
A few more would be wonderful.
In a similar key: add me, if you’d like; don’t if you don’t.
But I hope you do.