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Causing A Distraction

2006-08-22 - 8:40 a.m.

Two DVD Releases I Am Dying To Get: A.D. S3 & Lost S2

Listening To: Bjork, The Eels, Talking Heads, Blondie, Phish

Quote:"If the lacrosse team shows up, I'll be hiding in the car. In my sweatpants." - Bisa, to Kate & Zach

I was on my way back this morning from one of my last runs that I'll be taking in York for the foreeable future when I saw a ridiculously large pigeon on a telephone wire. [Not to be confused with the Mel Gibson/Goldie Hawn comic screen gem, "Riculously Large Pigeon On A Telephone Wire." Whatever happened to that Mel Gibson anyway? Nary a word in years!] Anyway, big pigeon. On a wire. And I'm running closer towards him. And soon enough I knew I'd be running right under him. And despite it being my birthday week (in which all spatial laws and time-bending muffins tend to favor me) I still didn't want to take any chances. So I made a loud caw noise. You know, like a crow. "Caw! Caw!" No one saw me. Or heard me. But the bird did. And it flew away. I don't mind cawing while I run. It's reading while I eat that I don't like. Wait - no. I love that.

But scaring that bird off isn't the only distraction I've caused. Hardly. I cause distractions all day. (and all of the night.) I feel like I'm either causing distractions or being distracted by some other distraction. I've never typed the word "distraction" so much until right now. Often when a friend of mind is telling a long story, or hell, even a short story, I'll ask all sorts of tertiary details and follow-up questions to each segment of the story. People tend to get annoyed by this. They just want to finish their story and would appreciate it if I stopped with the hectoring and let them get on with it. But I think I do it for two reasons. 1. - I really do want to have as many details as possible so as to paint a better picture in my mind. And maybe 2. - I just don't want the conversation to end. Ever. If I could have every conversation I've ever had concurrently last forever in a million gazillion different planes of existence than I would be right glad. Some would be painful, some would be hilarious, some would be troubling and some would be disgustingly and fiercely alliterated. But I would have no problem talking (and listening) forever and ever. I'm sure many of you could attest to this. Especially when I belabour a point during a fight (yes, you can put your hand down, I know you agree). It's not to be annoying, but sometimes I thrill at just the loud vocal representation of what's zipping around our brains at light speed. And if I'm the one telling a story? Jump in! Ask questions! I sure don't mind. I'll fill you in on every little detail that I can. I'll repeat the old stories. I'll tell you new ones. I'll make up stories on the spot that are only half true. Or 1/3 true. Your call. I'll repurpose your own story if you'd like. You're damn right I like the sound of my own voice! It's MY voice, who else's voice am I supposed to use?! I want to make the conversation last as long as possible! I just don't like the conversations to end, you know? Because I've had some conversations end and they've never started back up again. You know?

I've been on a mental see-saw with my birtday again. Now I'm back to looking forward to it. (My actual birthday, not the party - which I've always been looking forward to. A note about that in a minute.) On the 28th I just want to eat food and drink drink and read comics and watch movies with friends. Or Friend. Or Friends. Or something. But the BBBQ this year? Scaled down. Very scaled. Due to the new location, we had to cut back and bring things down to a less raucous level than in the past. [Meaning, sadly, Jeff had to cancel his planned, "eat a live goat" act he'd been working on all summer.] Shannon and Mackenzie helped me trim the guest list by being ridiculously pregnant and in a state that I figured would not lend themselves to close quarter birthday funnery. I guess Matt and Chad just had to take the bullet on that one too. I didn't invite any family this year either. Which will be different. Because, like clockwork, every year, K-Slopp is usually found snorting No-Doz in the corner so he can stay awake on his ride home at like 3 in the morning and Brad is busy with Kate, Aly, and some other no good squirelly girly no doubt giving dirty looks to some sort of human/caterpillar hybrid (because, "Stupid" is German for "human/caterpillar hybrid"). [See what I did there?] And Natalie and Bryan should know that there'll be a memorial blanket for them with candles quietly burning. There'll still be more than a bushel of Farmers, but that's not my fault, they keep multiplying themselves! Didn't I warn you all not to feed them after midnight?! Didn't I?! Yeah, even my own Dad and his much celebrated Harley won't be making the trip. So just a quiet little get-together with a Vegan or two, Sailor Jerry, and lots and lots of meat. Wait. Vegans don't like alcohol. This isn't gonna work.

Ok, I wrote this entire entry as a distraction so I could put off finishing moving all my crap to Dover. It worked. Now I have to go move the rest of my stuff. Does anyone have a spare chiffarobe? I don't need one of the new place. I'm just fixin' to bust one up is all.

It's been real,

Tendrilo

ps - Be sure to check out all the new quotes! To be found on your upper left - click "Quotes! Vol. 2". There's a bevy of new quotey goodness. A bevy I say!

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