Today…
…I literally did nothing.
Well, not literally. But if this was a movie, you’d notice that the plot just went nowhere today. Like an introverted montage of not too much, but hopefully contributing to a larger bit of character development. Hopefully.
I noticed that a lot of people on tumblr (well, a few) like Haruki Murakami. Good for you. He’s not for everyone, but I consider myself quite a fan. One thing no one talks about when they talk about his writing is his very interesting, very Japanese way of describing a character doing not too much. Of just indulging in the mundane aspects of life. The details. The ingredients of a lunch, the sandwich and the noodles and the beer and the music and the cat that sits there watching, quietly judging, and then will disappear somewhere around page 30 along with a piece of your soul that you didn’t even realize was at stake until, I don’t know, page 250ish.
I don’t have a cat, though. Some dogs, but no cats.
Anyways, today… Today was the day.
Today and today alone I am thankful for the quiet. It’s been a rough week and I just wanted some me time. I’m usually alone on Thanksgiving, the family always going off somewhere for a grand adventure or two and me… well, just not doing that.
I laid out three movies to watch today: Missing by Costa-Gravas, the Gonzo docu about HST, and Hancock. Can you guess which movie I ended up watching out of all of those?
Sigh.
Then I wanted to do a bit of reading. Dance Dance Dance by Murakami has been sitting on my nightstand since the weekend and I’ve shamefully only read a page or two here and there a day since then. I typically read quite fast. You wouldn’t be able to tell that from the glacial pace I’ve been moving at.
Meant to do a bit of writing today as well. That didn’t happen. Did some contemplating and vigil sitting and meditating over the last sentence there and trying to conjure up what follows it. Tomorrow, I promise. Yes. Tomorrow. Definitely then.
Currently chit chatting away with Lollipop about tumblepedia and which tumblrfolk we don’t care for (while taking the opportunity every half an hour or so to post another youtube clip or two). We privately discuss the people we do think highly of enough (it’s the same people we gush over way too much publically, at least that I do anyways), but we rarely talk about those that we just flat out dislike. It’s a short conversation, but we’re on the same page. I sometimes worry I’m better at finding the words for things I dislike and that all my eloquence evaporates when it’s time to sing the praise of things I truly adore.
The only thing I really did do today was take my dogs for a little walk, and then went for a long one myself. Cleared my head a bit and it was nice strolling through the neighborhood on Thanksgiving. Literally every house on the street has three+ cars parked in it’s driveway or in front of it somewhere. Just packed with friends and family and people gouging away on food. That was when I started my walk…
…on the way back, the people were slowly filing out of the house, but not to their cars, not yet. They were feeling too bloated from their feasts, so they were looking for fresh air and stretches. The gathered members of my neighbor’s family tried to start a touch football game in their front yard. It was sad and hilarious and one of the most awkward things I’d seen as I approached my front door. Lots of schlubby guys with big stomachs, one hand upon their full bellies as they haphazardly tossed their nerf balls into the air, not managing to toss them anywhere near who they appear to be aiming for.
The women in this family were staying back by the front porch. Some sitting on the steps, some standing around it. One woman was apparently telling a story while smoking her cigarette, constantly blowing the smoke into the other women’s faces, who kind of grimaced, probably half listening as they watched the kids running around in circles somewhere between the sad little football game and them.
Reluctantly, the men let one of the girls, probably around 14, into their game. They’re just humoring her, teasing her, not thinking she’ll add much to their game, and one of them carefully hands her the ball like he’s afraid she’ll get hurt just touching it. I was back several hundred yards, unable to hear anything, but if the girl was offended by the way they patronized her, she wasn’t showing it in body language.
Instead, she just waved her hand at them, gesturing for them to all push back, to go out for it, because she was going to throw it long. I could see their laughter, as they all took only a single step back, not thinking she could throw it that far. She took a few hops back, her knees bent, her arm back, her elbow at that perfect right angle, obviously knowing exactly what she was doing. The men suddenly sensed that she had an almost professional stance with the ball in her hands and they started backing up as quick as they could. The last thing they wanted to do was be shown up after teasing her so. I could see her head fall back as she was either smiling or laughing or both as they clamored.
Then there was the snap (is that the right terminology?) and she threw the ball up in the air, very high, in a perfect spiral. Not only was the ball soaring, but it was heading in the direction of the group of men, perfectly aimed and executed, something they had been unable to accomplish before her. The men kept backing up, all of their eyes up in the sky, trying to track the ball. It kept going higher and higher as it completed the first half of it’s arch and then started coming down. They kept backing up, out of the yard and into the street now. Around cars and back farther and farther.
Not looking where they were going, the men eventually ran into each other and tripped and fell into the ditch across the street, landing in a nice sloshy puddle of mud. One of the guys managed to avoid the initial group FAIL and instead backed into a mailbox and then fall on top of the other guys. They just sat there in the muddy ditch for a moment, probably moaning and groaning. Five seconds later the fall came down on top of them, hitting one of the guys either in the lower stomach area or the crotch, I couldn’t tell.
The tiny little quarterback just jumped up and down, her arms waving in the air, very proud of herself. I had a good laugh about this myself before walking back inside.
Anyways.
