backyard crowing


I am Switzerland.

I'm in Chipotle alone on a Saturday night. They ran out of rice, so I'm waiting until they have it again to order my burrito.

Oy, I haven't written since the ice age. Tonight I saw him (David) again, in the cool black hat he loves so much. As soon as I saw him I felt instantly aware of my genuine army shirt--it's the first time I've worn it out, and some people tend to look at me strangely. Pochenke.

I like the thing, it simply requires some guts to pull off. Guts and lipstick, I suppose. He sat on a bench talking to a couple of people I don't know, said he was waiting for a friend...I can assume he means girlfriend, if I decide to be realisic. Or pessimistic? Who knows?

I keep hoping he'll walk into the restaurant and see me, and maybe say hello. Or more, I don't know. What I wouldn't do to be out with him now...but that's emo. Not that I don't like the genre, I'm just not in the mood to be teased for feeling glum, or depressed, or whatever emo kids are anyway.

Oy. Here I go again, and I haven't begun to study this weekend. Shame on me! Not an ounce of studying! Not a chapter, not a unit, not a MINUTE, if truth be told.

I'm sure if I went into the army my facebook profile political status/preference would no longer be "apathetic", as being in the military means being at the forefront of all that is political, but I've no idea where I would fall on the scale of left and right if I was indeed in the service. I suppose I'd be a moderate. I am Switzerland.

One thing I've noticed about wearing this shirt is that when I walk past the homeless people on Guadelupe, they don't bother me, perhaps because they're known to wear this kind of thing.

nighttime - 2006-01-28


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