Train station.
Aggressive pigeons.
Ew. A guy spat. I hate it when guys spit. Why do guys spit? Is it a masculinity complex? It is SO not attractive.
Homeless man with the Bible. I want to buy him a sandwich.
Woman checking her face in a compact. Maybe she’s going to see her boyfriend. Maybe they haven’t seen each other for days or weeks or months. She looks excited. I’ll bet she hasn’t seen her boyfriend for a long time.
Boy with mini faux-hawk and UCSD sweatshirt tapping his feet and hands to the upbeat music coming from his i-Pod. He looks bored. I would talk to him but I would rather watch people.
Ooh! Guy in a Navy (?) uniform (it’s tan with the little sailor-like hat… I think it’s the Navy’s new uniform). I’ll bet he’s going home today! He looks excited too.
Old man picking his nose. His name is Andres. Well, his hat has “Andres” embroidered on it. I will call him Andres regardless of whether it’s his real name or not.
Policeman! R. Anderson. I like policemen. I hope Tyler’s dream of becoming a cop comes true. He would be such an amazing police officer.
Navy man looks tired now. I’ll bet he wants to go home really badly.
Cute couple sitting behind me. The woman is crocheting something blue. I’ll bet she has grandchildren. She looks like she would be an excellent grandmother.
I probably should be writing my essay for humanities.
I like San Diego. It’s a really pretty city. It’s a mix of city and country. There are SO many amazing trees—I love it. Greg does too, which is great because he lives here now.
I’m not sure how the whole train thing works… this guy told me I don’t buy my ticket until I board the train. I hope I understood him correctly. It would suck to miss the train.
Trains are loud. Who rides the train in California nowadays anyway? I feel like I’m living in the 20’s. I’m going to board the train and Humphrey Bogart is going to run alongside it telling me he’s in love with me and doesn’t want me to go back to my home in Georgia. He’ll keep running until the train reaches top speed, and he’ll slowly stop running as a single tear rolls down his face. I’ll look on him with sadness as I kiss the glass window. My ruby red lipstick will stain the glass and then the credits will roll.
The woman sitting next to me has a really cool straw baseball cap. She’s the same woman who was looking at herself in the compact a few minutes ago. She works here collecting trash. She’s putting on lipstick and eye liner now. She’s really pretty. I feel bad that she has to collect trash. Why can’t people just pick up after themselves? Local governments have supplied us with a surplus of trash receptacles; is it that hard to walk an extra five feet to a trash can? I think not.
My Monster isn’t cold anymore. I want water. My texts aren’t going through to people so no one is answering me. I’m listening to a song that reminds me of my ex.
Isn’t time a strange thing? Six months ago I was nowhere near as happy as I am now. I felt like there was just something missing but now I seriously feel so content and so complete. I seriously have such an amazing life with such amazing friends and family. I’m so lucky!
The Navy man got on his train. There he goes, heading home to his long lost love or his mother who has secretly cried in the bathroom every night over his absence for two years while he’s been away at war. Actually he’s probably just been at Camp Pendleton for basic training, but that’s not as exciting of a story.
Super cute little boy weather a turtle shirt. His grandma is holding a white and a purple balloon. Maybe it’s his birthday. Or hers?
I can’t read what I’m typing. The sun is really bright. There are probably a lot of typos. I think I’ll post this as a note on facebook. I’ve never posted a legitimate note. Has anyone really? Facebook notes aren’t really a popular thing.
Clarissa told me I’m “prec” (pronounced like fresh but with a ‘p’). She’s a cute girl. I like the sound of that. You’re so prec! People at UCSD are super cute. I have a new twin. Her name is Lis. We don’t really look all that similar—we determined that the similarity pretty much ends at our round faces. She has really pretty blue eyes and I only wish I did.
A really nice woman with red streaks in her hair just asked me about my computer. She liked it and didn’t mock it for its size like boys do. Boys are just jealous cause I can say, “mine is bigger than yours.” Haha I’m so funny. Not.
I love seeing couples. It makes me happy to see that love actually does exist. Although not all couples you see are necessarily in love, you can expect that they have the potential to be—I think that’s such a great thing to be capable of. I love loving people. I love being loved too.
Text to Tyler isn’t going through. I would resend it but I feel needy and lame when I do that and I don’t want to.
I just had a lovely conversation with the train station officer and R. Anderson (the aforementioned police officer). They are super nice and fun to talk to. I was sitting on the total wrong side of the train tracks and had to walk a really long way around to get where I’m supposed to be. I’m sitting with the grandmother of the little boy I was talking about earlier. Their whole family is here now and they’re all super cute together.
It’s weird how I have now interacted with almost all of the people I was writing about in the beginning of this ridiculous little montage. It’s like life—we’re all interrelated in some way. I think that’s fabulous. It’s the whole six degrees thing. I know someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows Brad Pitt. I do not particularly care about Brad Pitt, but Greg does, so this association could make him happy.
I think Crocs are such silly shoes. They look super cute on babies and toddlers though. Perhaps my children will wear Crocs. I am so excited about the prospect of getting married and having a family. I think it’ll be so much fun. Hopefully by then I’m mature enough to take both advancements seriously rather than pretending like I’m playing house. I loved playing house when I was younger. My preschool boyfriends got very used to playing house every day before school, at school, and after school.
What lucky kids those boys were. Not.
I wish writing essays for school was as easy as writing random thoughts and observations. If that were true I would be almost done with my humanities essay which needs to be at least three pages by Tuesday. It is currently less than 0 pages. I say “less than 0” because I haven’t even brainstormed for it yet. I’m such a failure. It’ll be good though. I’ll find some inspiration.
I have had the urge to listen to my old Avril Lavigne CDs for a couple days now. Why? I don’t know. It’s a strange urge to have at age 18 when the world is at my feet. I could be out traveling to exciting new places, meeting exciting new people, and learning new languages—but no. I would prefer to stay at home and listen to my old Avril Lavigne CDs. I love college.
Wouldn’t that be cool if someone read this blog and decided that I was this amazingly talented, innovative person whose thoughts and ideas could change the world, and they paid me millions of dollars to go sit in various random public locations to watch people and ponder the ways of the world? I think I would quite like that. My odds are probably pretty good too, considering all the ridiculous things people are paid to do nowadays. Unlike some of the random weird people in reality tv shows, I will not flash people. I will make my money and claim my fame honestly and conservatively with my top ON, thank you very much. ♥
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment