When I take the bus anywhere lately, I pay in cash. I do this because I have not yet had to take the T anywhere, and I do not want to buy a T pass. In doing this I have had the good fortune of treating the bus like a giant vending machine. Just like a regular vending machine, it is possible, and not uncommon, to fight with it about the receivable state of your paper money. I find it best to use something entirely devoid of creases- as though it has been flat ironed between the unyielding buttocks of Zeus himself. Sometimes the irksome little robot will spit it out at me several times before swallowing and suffering my ride along with me, puking and hiccuping with other less crispy commuter dollars.
I saw a picture of a baby on a friends web site. What went through my head was not 'cute! I wonder whose child that is?'.. it was more like 'Where did that come from..?' Squinty eyes, etc.. My sister has been talking a lot about babies.. birth.. having kids.. raising kids.. wanting kids.. It occurs to me that I may have to be a pretty close witness to this process should it ever come about. I am not excited about this and this makes me a bad person. Regardless of what I may think, I do inhabit the body of a young woman, and I may not find it to be entirely confusing and uncomfortable (experiencing a family member in pregnancy, not myself.. I'm getting to that). Like most things that scare me (to my chagrin, I was able to recently find out that were it to come down to being pregnant or having cancer, I'd prefer the latter) I have done some self educating about the whole shenanigan. This, in order to alleviate some anxiety about being at this point in life, where babies can potentially be more than just somebody else's problem.
My bark is far worse than my bite, though. I don't "get" babies.. they confuse me.. they LIKE me.. and most of them don't appear to have an agenda. I suppose it would be neat to hang out with one teach it how to do stuff.. like long division, card manipulations and how to navigate the night sky..
I would like to point out that when I google searched "What does it feel like to be pregnant?" before entering the final word to seal the google deal, the fun loving helpful search bot came up with some possible matches for my anticipated choice of words. Some likely candidates included 'what does it feel like to be high/drunk/on crack?'
Top of the list: "What does it feel like to be a bat?"
...
A different internet search taught me that the almost constantly cracked corners of my mouth are caused by brain damage.
The internet is so smart!!
This (babies and brain damage) brings me to Rosemary's Baby, which I watched earlier today. For those who don't know, it is a story about a young couple who moves into a New York apartment building and befriend an old couple- crazy neighbors, who, Rosemary later believes to be Satan worshipers hell bent on stealing her baby. Mia Farrow plays Rosemary. Thanks to her stint as a voice actress, I can't listen to her become impassioned about anything without overlapping "I'm a unicorn! I'm a UNICORN!!" in my head over the dialog. That her character is concerned about her crazy neighbors engaging in witchcraft and other such pagan activities makes these frequent outbursts and my internal overlay pretty silly. Tsk tsk..
I did laundry today. Also, I'm pretty sure I charmed a bank teller into giving me a free-for-five-years checking account even though I'm technically not a student, unemployed, and new in town. I like this because I dislike paying ten dollars a month for something that should be free, cannot guarantee at least a $750./day balance or a direct deposit from my imaginary job. That sentence was not structured very well.
Had a second interview with Wet-Interview-Place. I will come up with a clever name for it when they decide to tell me, one way or the other, if I can sell them a weekly number of hours of my life in return for at least the promise of stability.
Arlington Food Drive! Cleaning projects!! Byung Ja!!
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