The Afterlife of Closure

TEXT MESSAGE CONVERSATION:

SARA:  I’m sorry if I hurt you.  You can talk to me if u want anytime.

REI:  Yeah.  We should talk, later.  In person.

SARA: I wish ud tell me now.  But whateveru want.  Id like to retain at least one friend.

REI: Sara?  Just a friend?  Really?  After all the times we cheated?  You really think it’s that simple?

SARA: R u gonna tell?

REI: Why don’t you?

SARA: Because it would be the end of my life

REI: For someone that thinks being romantic is a sign of emotional immaturity, that’s a rather melodramatic (and emotionally immature) declaration.

SARA: The life i have planned in my head and heart would be nullified

REI:  Wow.  Just, wow.  Do you honestly believe life often goes as planned?  It often does not.  This is not a bloody fairy tale.

SARA: So we werent friends?  Are u gonna tell?

REI: Are you even seeing what I’m typing to you?!  Or am I just some inanimate object you’re talking to just to validate your own twisted reasoning?

REI: I want to be your friend, but I can’t be your dildo anymore.  You need to have some balls for once and do something definitive.

SARA: No im trying to talk to u

REI: But you’re not “actively listening.”  You’re talking in circles.  You might as well be a tape recording.  This is not a dialog.

SARA: I thought we had gotten through it to just being friends.  I just want to be your friend!  Is that definative?

REI:  You sound delusional.  Seriously?  What about yesterday?  Or the week I moved in? The cycle’s not broken.

SARA: I am.  Or at least im trying!

REI: “I am trying” is also part of your usual tape recording.

SARA: So what should i do?  Go home for the summer?  Stay in denton and be friends?  Or breakoff cnntact or what?

REI: What do you think you should do?

SARA: Then i dont know what u want from me

SARA: Maybe its jurt my state of mind right now

REI: Sara, it’s ALWAYS your state of mind.  You’re always running.  You’re a coward.

REI:  Sara, you need to come up with your own answers and decisions, for once.  I think you know what I think you should do, but you don’t want to do it.

SARA: Ur right I dont

REI: Well that’s your own choice, I guess.  Goodnight.

Olive Oil

The following are snippets from an IM conversation involving RHPS, languages, sweet-nothings, politics, and time-paradoxes:

*After lots of geeky talk about time loops and Buddhism…*

Cookie: Yeah. I like to link different story/film genres together and add philosophy to the whole thing. Bad habit.
Mousse: Yeah, I’m more down to earth than that. xD
Mousse: But I guess that makes sense since I’m a Taurus.
Mousse: Your head is in the clouds. xD
Cookie: ROTFL.
Cookie: Well, you have your moments too, I think.
Mousse: Yeah.
Cookie: But your head is my heart and my head is your heart.
Cookie: My head’s in the clouds, but my heart is firmly grounded.
Cookie: Your head is on solid ground, but your heart is sailing away on random gusts of wind.
Mousse: xD
Cookie: That’s why we get along together so well, I think. Our differences and similarities harmonize so well.
Mousse: True, true. Seems like it.
Cookie: Hmmm. I wonder what your Rising Sign is? Or your Midheaven?
Mousse: Dunno.
Mousse: I’m not that well-versed in the astrology. xD
Cookie: Well you not only have to know your day and month of birth, but also your time, place, and year to find out those things… that’s why most people don’t know them.
Mousse: *smiles and watches you get all animated while you talk about one of your little pet subjects* :)
Cookie: My head’s in the clouds again. xD
Cookie: I’m a geek AND a dork.
Mousse: aye, and an adorable one <3

…Later in the same conversation…

Cookie: Yeah.
Cookie: With its own ups and downs… and “dry spells.”
Mousse: …
Cookie: …
Mousse: Huh, I think I may be a big pervert.
Cookie: No, I thought the same thing. xD
Cookie: That means we’re both perverts. <3
Mousse: Well it’s nice to know I’m not alone. xD
Cookie: Mel. YOU. ARE. NOT. ALONE.
Cookie: That could be either comforting or creepy, depending on the circumstances.
Mousse: Well, I’m sure in a horror/alien story that could be rather creepy.
Cookie: Ewwww. Probing awaits.
Mousse: You can probe me anytime. <3
Cookie: <—Overactive imagination.
Mousse: Haha.
Mousse: Wow.
Mousse: That just sounds so wrong.
Cookie: xD!
Cookie: Wow, what a FINE young Earth specimen we have here!
Mousse: =o
Cookie: We’re going to have to run a FULL DIAGNOSTIC on this one, I think.
Mousse: Ww-what’re gonna do? <.<
Cookie: We’re going to tie you down to a table and use our vast alien… brains… and… vaguely-described prodding devices… to find out what makes you TICK!
Mousse: =o
Mousse: D-don’t. Probe me! *walks backwards towards the door* >.>
Cookie: MWAHAHAHA.

Dun Dundundun Dundundun, Shiny Scalpel! :D

On the way into NCTC, I get a call from Lindsay down in Brazos Valley…

After a few minutes of conversation: Lindsay can’t see it, but I’m sitting down on a concrete bench and pulling up my pants in an oh-so-discreet manner.

Me: *sighs with frustration* “You know, I’m starting to think that they do this on purpose.”
Her: “Do what?”
Me: “Design jeans so that the back end’s easily exposed.”
Her: *a very sarcastic tone* “NUUUUH, ya think? Over twenty-one years of living and you’re just now figuring this out, Rach?”
Me: *squeaks* “But no one wants to see MY ass! And no matter where I get my jeans, they all have the same desgin flaw.”
Her: “Did it ever occur to you it is because your ass is big?”

Somehow the subject changes to that of how generally insane 90% of college professors seem to be, and that of how TA’s can be wildcards. We both agree that it’s a near universal fact.

Me: “So I guess I’d fit right in if I became a junior college professor, eh?” *half-joking*
Her: “If you say so…”
Me: “But then I’d have to give up my dream of being a librarian and tatoo artist.”
Her: “…”
Me: “What? Librarian by day, tattoo artist by night?”
Her: “No, just… just no.”
Me: “Why not?”
Her: “Rach, I love you, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you near me with a tattoo gun.”
Me: “But, getting paid to inflict pain in artistic ways? Awesome, right? =DDD”
Her: “Hell no. Here’s the scenario: I’d drop off a preliminary design of mine, come back a week later, and you’d go, ‘Lookie all the modifications I made! =D’ And there’d somehow be wings and all manner of weird shit coming out of my pawprint.”
Me: “You won’t let me draw on yooouuuu?” *mock whine*
Her: “No, I won’t let you DOODLE on me.”
Me: “So it’s not the needle so much as the random doodling on flesh. So if I was a doctor instead–”
Her: “AGAIN. I love you, but you’re not gettin’ ANYWHERE NEAR ME with a scalpel.”
Me: “Hahaha, yeah, I’d be like that one dude from Scrubs…”
Her: *starts singing shiny scalpel song because in a freaky way she knows EXACTLY what I am referring to*
Me: xD “Yeah! But doesn’t that mean I’m the best one?”
Her: “Fuck no.”
Me: “Gawd you’re being mean today. First you say that I have a fat ass and NOW you’re saying I can’t be a tattoo artist or surgeon! Damn, Lins!”

Vanilla Soy for the Sleep Walker

“Anne, are you at Art Six?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a guess.”

“I haven’t been here in over two days, though.”

“That’s not exactly a record, now. Seriously.”

Snapshot

Setting– 1/2 bedroom efficiency apartment. Very diverse residents in complex, some college students, some struggling families, even a dude next door having a quiet jam session on his guitar a few nights a week, and three Mexican bachelors having an awesome time upstairs. Two futons, one hide-away love seat, one very small kitchen, bathroom, and TV. Just a… tad crowded for three humans, five cats and a dog.

Shit Happens…
Sunday Morning
ANNE: [comes in] Hey, I’m home.
CORY: mmmfff…
KODIE: did you stay late at work?
ANNE: a little, I was talking to my relief…actually, I came by about 45 minutes earlier, but the second lock was locked so I figured I should drive around a bit…
CORY: [laughing and mumbling] what?
KODIE: why’d you do that?
ANNE: well, I thought it might’ve been a sign that, I, uh, shouldn’t come in…
KODIE: oh, don’t worry [laughs], we don’t get it on this early in the morning
ANNE: uh, ok
KODIE: besides, we don’t have any condoms
CORY: thassaright…
ANNE: …alright…[wheeling towards back room where her bed is] though there’s other things you could– oh, nevermind, I don’t want to know
KODIE: nope, Cory doesn’t like foreplay
CORY: [waking up now] yup, I like only one thing…
ANNE: uh, yeah, thanks for sharing
CORY: the other night when you were at work, though–
ANNE: you know, you two share more than enough personal information about your sex lives, and I really don’t need to hear any more. Just because I’m… unattached at the moment…
KODIE: we need to get you a man, Rachael.
ANNE: whatever, I’m going to bed. It’s, like, 1pm now.
CORY: the fuck… no it’s not… it’s closer to 10am
ANNE: [waves it off]Wake me up when you guys want your dinner, kay?

Sunday Afternoon
KODIE: Rachael… Rachael, it’s 4pm. Weren’t you gonna make dinner?
ANNE: [still asleep in bed, sprawled out on stomach]hnngr…
CORY: [comes in and shuts the door behind him] she’s still alseep? I went to…what the hell?
KODIE: What about spaghetti and salad?
ANNE: [eyes still closed] I worked last night.
KODIE: And cake? Triple choco-
CORY: [fishing though belt bag] lookit all this shit… hey, Rachael, lookit all this shit!
KODIE: it’s stuff from his work, Rachael
ANNE: [turns head away on pillow, eyes fused shut] hhhnnnn…I dun care.
CORY: [pulls out some nuts and bolts] ahh, here we go. See this, Rachael? This is from work. See, this is a nut, and this is a bolt… [demonstrating]
ANNE: …[curls up into a ball] what… the fuck…
KODIE: Oh, look, Rachael, he’s giving you sex ed. For free.
ANNE: I don’t wanna know!!
CORY: …they go together like this [makes highly-exagerrated and suggestive grinding noises]
ANNE: yeah…well, well, what if they get stuck like that, huh?
CORY: [shrugs] well, then you’re both screwed
ANNE: … [laughing quietly under the sheets in spite of herself]
KODIE: we need to get you a man, Rachael
ANNE: ….yeah…then maybe the two of you CAN LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND LET ME SLEEP, for once! God, I’ll make the fucking dinner already.