Because I Like It

"Why do you wear that thing? It's ugly, and it makes you look fat."

I looked down at the beat up motorcycle jacket that I'd worn religiously for the last two years. Its leather was worn and torn in places, and it was several sizes too large. It still had the lingering scent of cigarettes and leather cleaner, a scent that I loved. I remembered when I'd gotten it, the last time I'd gone to visit my grandfather before he'd died. I'd gone without a coat, and when it came time to leave, he'd bundled me tightly into his motorcycle jacket. "I don''t want you to get sick, Sarah," he'd said to me. Two weeks later, he'd been in the hospital, and the next day he was gone, a loving memory.

I took another deep breath, taking in the smell of leather and smoke, the smell of my grandfather, and answered her.

"Because I like it."

Ugh. Really?

People are so dim sometimes. I was reading an old Dan Savage column and I put up a line from one of his responses as an away message:
"Confidential to Shelly: No, you're not crazy, and yes, your boyfriend loves you."
But, I decided it'd be funnier if I put "%n" in place of "Shelly." On AIM, this has the effect of inserting the screen name of whoever's reading the away message. Apparently I am on some random people's buddy lists, and things got crazy...
~
1:47pm
RANDOM GIRL #1: ?
ME: who is this?
RANDOM GIRL #1: your away message has my sn in it... who is this? I just noticed you on my buddy list and my name in your away creeped me out
ME: oh it's not you, when you put %n in an away message it automatically puts the sn of the person who's reading it in there
RANDOM GIRL #1: oh
RANDOM GIRL #1: haha sorry
RANDOM GIRL #1: i was just a bit confused. sorry about that
RANDOM GIRL #1: have a good one
ME: that's okay, you too
~
5:04pm
RANDOM GIRL #2: who is this
ME: this is Ashley...
ME: is this about my away message? because someone else IM'd me earlier...it's not necessarily your sn. when you put %n in an away message then whoever reads it sees their sn in place of it
RANDOM GIRL #2: haha kk
ME: haha no prob...are you in Soulie's hallway?
RANDOM GIRL #2: no i'm in my room
ME: oh I meant do you live in her hallway? because the first paranoid girl did :)
RANDOM GIRL #2: no
RANDOM GIRL #2: who is this
ME: this is Ashley, I'm a freshman
RANDOM GIRL #2: haha no i dk you or how i got this name
ME: yeah Idk either!
ME: sorry :(
RANDOM GIRL #2: that's fine
~
Seriously? People are so paranoid. I'm the one who should be paranoid! How did they get my screen name?! Also, they acted like I was the one doing something wrong when they were the creepers who had some random innocent (*cough*) freshman on their buddy lists. Augh. Some days I just don't know how people can fit such massive amounts of stupid into their heads.

Chili's, Act II

ME: You know, Pants once told me that waiters and waitresses are trained to come ask how everything is when your mouth is full of food. That way, you can't say it's bad.
MOM: Yeah? And where did she waitress to learn that?
ME: I don't knowww...she told me back in Girl Scouts...
MOM: Do you really think the waiters have enough time on a busy night like this to look around and see if everyone's mouth is full before they come over and ask if everything's okay?
ME: Probably not... [looks down at plate sheepishly]
[Everyone starts eating again.]
[Charlie, the waiter, arrives.]
CHARLIE: Everything okay here, folks?
[Everyone nods with their mouths full. Charlie leaves.]
ME: HA! Who called that?!
MOM: ...you did.

We went to Chili's...

ME: That was a really good dinner!
DAD: It ought to be for $60...
ME: Just once, can't we enjoy something without complaining about the price? All I ever hear is, "It ought to be good for $X..."
DAD: We work hard for our money!
MOM: It's just when you go to a place and the service is slow and the staff is indifferent and rude, it feels like you didn't get the best deal.
[to Dad] You had enough money, didn't you?
ME: Dad, maybe you should start stripping for old ladies again...haha!
DAD: Your mother doesn't pay me.
MOM: Hey!
[Dad laughs mischievously.]

Hmm

I just spent two hours analyzing ten pages from my text book. That is two hours of my life that I will never get back. I detest college sometimes, you know...

Something True

I saw something today on my way back to my room. It was etched into a column, as we classy people at college sometimes do, and it made me stop and think for a moment.

"It only takes one."

That's what the column said. And as I continued walking, I thought to myself, "My god, that is so true." It only takes one person in a crowd of people to stand up and say something is wrong. It only takes one person to lead a group. It only takes one person with a bright idea to change the world a little bit.

Of course, it could have meant that it only takes one bout of unprotected sex to transfer an STD. Or that it only supposedly takes one hit of crack cocaine before you're addicted. It only takes one slap to make you abusive. But I prefer to think that they meant something a little bit deeper when they scratched that in.

It only took one Oscar Schindler to save hundreds of lives. It only takes one well trained search dog to find a lost child.

It only takes one.

Going hunting.

An old man sitting on his front porch in Louisiana watching the sunrise sees the neighbor's kid walk by carrying something big under his arm.
He yells out, "Hey boy, whatcha got there?"
The boy yells back, "Roll of chicken wire."
The old man says, "What you gonna do with that?"
The boy says, "Catch some chickens."
The old man yells, "You damn fool, you can't catch chickens with chicken wire!"
The boy just laughs and keeps walking.
That evening at sunset the boy comes walking by and to the old man's surprise, he is dragging behind him the chicken wire with about 30 chickens caught in it.
At the same time the next morning, the old man is out watching the sunrise and he sees the boy walk by carrying something kind of round in his hand.
The old man yells out, "Hey boy, whatcha got there?"
The boy yells back, "Roll of duck tape."
The old man says, "What you gonna do with that?"
The boy says back, "Catch me some ducks."
The old man yells back, "You damn fool, you can't catch ducks with duck tape!"
The boy just laughs and keeps walking.
That night, around sunset, the boy walks by coming home and to the old man's amazement, he is trailing behind him the unrolled roll of duck tape with about 35 ducks caught in it.
At the same time the next morning, the old man sees the boy walking by carrying what looks like a long reed with something fuzzy on the end.
The old man says, "Hey boy, whatcha got there?"
The boy says, "It's a pussy willow."
The old man says "Hold on, I'll get my hat."

Bruises

I'm looking at myself in the mirror. And I'm thinking, good lord. Where do they come from? I've got one painted on my collarbone, a quick splotch of fading yellow. Along my shoulders and back, barely even risen yet from a slide down the stairs. Just above my left elbow, a deep blue, nearly black, giving me a twinge every time I bend my arm. Small drips of blue and green along my legs. A large one just above my ankle, the color of a thick, murky twilight. My left foot is covered with them, red and blue and yellow, all in different stages of healing. Where do they come from?

Sometimes I think there is more than one reason I don't have a boyfriend. Is it because I'm afraid of being dumped? Hesitant to share myself with someone? Or is it simply because I don't want him to see the bruises? Maybe he'd see them as a work of art, a painted canvas, a reminder of who I am and where I've been.

But I doubt that.