Friday Thoughts, by M

Due to my lack of words in blogging I might have to institute a friday thoughts post where it's required I stream of conscious everything going on so that, I find purpose in spilling words out into the void...

My week recap:
Monday: The girl was trepidatious about french. She knew the result of the mid-term wasn't going to be stellar. The class itself was an exercise in fighting inadequacy, team work, and patience. None of which the girl had right then. She went to Portos and had a Chicken Cesar Salad and bought a meat pie and chocolate croissant for later. But later came on the way to class as she, ferme'd her livre in disgust at the blur of words before her. She debated turning back. But she was already a meer 5 minutes away. And she made it to the parking lot, read a little and thought, no, sir, not today. Not at all. And retreated west, to her home, down through the dark canyon and back out, where she ate a brownie, and thought, what is WRONG with me.

Tuesday: The girl realized "Expelled: No intelligence allowed" was out on DVD, but hadn't the chance to get it. And the girl liked intelligent design theory. But she sat watching "BiggestLoser: Couples" instead. Watching everyone uncouple, drop pounds and workout despite knee injuries. She does not remember much else.

Wednesday: The girl parked at a failed parking meter in the shade, in the rare heat of October in Hollywood, where Sunday meters will no longer be free. Sunday has become unsacred, fettered down and just like any other day of the week. She met with a man about a prayer community at church, and all the ways in which prayer can invade the lives of its people. They touched on healing. She felt bad after saying, you're a mess. But after all, she was also a mess. They touched on interceding, unburdening, fellowship and the holyspirit. They touched on retreats to Mexico and the waters of Baja. They touched on leadership for prayer and all the ways in which it should be, prayer, of paramount, but to the girl was far from being anything like. She did not think they were all on the same page. He paid for lunch, and it was good. She tried not to let it bother her that the restaurant got a B. She walked back to her car, no ticket, and was 10min late to a pitch meeting. She did not watch the lion being shot because he was eating his trainer, but she did watch a sea lion leaping waves beside a surfer. And she went to class and it didn't seem so nerve racking. She got a C- on her midterm and when in an exercise in class, she said, "J'ai oublie, frequemment..." the teacher added, "faire devoirs." And this was true. And she smiled.

Thursday: The girl knew the parents were returning to her now ordered and peaceful abode. So she watered in the morning. Took the dogs for a walk. Did the dishes. Thought about selling albums on e-bay. Her brother called her from Vegas and that she was missing out on her niece. To which she said, "hopefully I'll get to see her when she's walking and talking." She did not say that, she did not think much of him as a brother. That 4 years and no visits does just as much damage. That because you love your daughter does not mean the girl feels loved in the same way, or that she wants to be enveloped in the circumfrance of your distant family life, and the niece be the only reason to share your life with her. Perhaps she wants to be loved for herself and her interests, perhaps she wants her brother to ask about central america and how she will be leaving in 48 days, to take an interest. She told you anyway, like she told you before. And you said, don't get leeches. And she said, I'm going to marry a druglord instead.

Friday: The girl woke to the cat pawing her face, awake. She knocked him off the bed once but he did it again. She does not know how to stem this enduring yet, infuriating new and successful habit of his. He runs each time to see his foodbowl full. That is all he wants each time, and for her to groom his face. Which she does. She goes outside and watches the mums unfurling yellow and burgandy and the bees all round, doing their good work, and plays with the dogs, and thinks, work awaits me, along with a check, and her color me mine, sugar bowl, pictures forthcoming, and she thinks despite this nagging internal dialogue of hers about things to accomplish over the weekend, people and the communicating and the not communicating, mortality, therapy, invoices, her irritation over pettiness and the trashing of sarah palin, her annoyance at the screeching behaviors of john stewart who she liked, the Office, strange dreams, no massage, and the word for unfortunately is malarusement in french makes her smile... like bad amusement, or almost like happily bad... but anyway now she doesn't remember what else because all the words have taken her thoughts away, and made her breathe deep and wait for yoga tonight, and money in the bank, and her sugar bowl, glazed and waiting.