That was the first thing that came into my head, be prepared for STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS! More like a trickle. If there was anything to be said, I would have said it. No actually, I would have hemmed and hawed (what a great expression that is) and then I would have said 'um' a few more times, and then thought about what I was going to say some more, and then tried to phrase it, with the end result that you ran out of patience and finished my sentence for me! I stand in the way of good conversation. I also try to stay on the phone as long as possible, there is something so beautiful in the awkward way people try not to seem like they are hanging up on me, because I'm sure not hanging up! People are awkward and beautiful. Have you ever noticed that? Watch someone eating a sandwich. Watch someone eating anything, really. They are very self-conscious, and disgusting, sort of, you can hear chewing noises and see down their throat. A great thing to do is to try and make eye contact with someone while they are eating, and see their gaze slide away, embarrassed and full of enjoyment. I love how we think that we are so fragile that we can be shattered with a glance! Walking along down the street, carefully avoiding each other, eyes on our shoes, nervously we put our hands in our pockets, we take them out again, we ruffle our hair. Being a human is probably the best game I can think of, because we forget we are playing and we start taking ourselves seriously! Could that be the theme of this blog so far? Hmmm....
I've been in a good mood lately because of the rain. About twice every day for the past month it has been raining in Poughkeepsie, and there is something about the sky just before, just after, or during a thunderstorm, it makes me very happy to be alive, and to be wearing a yellow raincoat, and to be wet/notwet inside/outside, any combination of the above, possibly with a mug of tea and a movie, or barefoot in wet grass. Also, puddles! The smells are better, the sunsets are definitely better, and it's soothing to listen to when I fall asleep. All of which leads me to the conclusion that I should move somewhere like Wales. Oh, Wales... of course I would live in a cottage, and it would downpour regularly and then one day a young, freshfaced Welsh shepherd would knock on my door, carrying a lost lamb and wearing a wool sweater (because damp wool has such a Nice smell), and I'd invite him in for tea (hem hem).
The answer to the drunken sailor question is you press-gang him, of course, but it's suggestive isn't it? In my childhood I was exposed to an unusual quantity of Irish drinking songs. I've no regrets, I won't be the sucker who has to buy the whole pub a round because she kept clapping when the chorus was over. But my true weakness is for folk ballads. Songs that wear their hearts on their sleeves, and are damn proud of it too. Unabashed sentimentality, that's for me, with a bit of antiwar propaganda here and there.
I suddenly had a paranoid moment of realizing how impersonal the internet is, and how little control I have over machines. Why am I trusting the computer? It could kill me with its little finger. If it had a little finger. (WHY is THAT an expression? English, I tell you, it's pretty weird, yeah, hehe.) But the worst is bathrooms that are fully automated. If machines suddenly developed consciousness, a sadistic sense of humor, and a grudge against humans, bathrooms in which the toilet flush, the running water, soap and dryers are all electrical would be an absolute nightmare. Be afraid! Be very afraid!
...And that's my story.
And then we went and had pasta.
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