I haven’t posted a new blog thingity-thing in awhile.
Then I had to stop and ask myself a few simple questions…
-Have you not posted because you’re pretty sure no one reads your crap and if they do, it only serves to damage the already dwindling respect they had left for you?
-Have you not posted because until you start “Livin’ La Vida Lohan” all your stories are gonna seem super lame and boring?
-Have you not posted because all of your stories are, in actuality, really super lame and boring?
-Have you not posted because you’re just super lazy?
In the end, I determined it was most like the latter. As such, I bring to you, the fan of my blog – you know who you are – a new post! *cue balloons and confetti*
~I’ve determined that I really enjoy observing people, if for no better reason than because 94% of them are absolutely whacked out of their minds. In the last half hour I’ve witnessed an old woman wander into the library and stare at something hanging on the wall for a solid 10 minutes. What was it you ask? Was it a painting? Was it a photograph? Perhaps it was some other work of art or a finely crafted poster with an intriguing font?
No, no…she was staring at the pencil sharpener underneath the window.
Maybe she found it shocking that a modern institute that is always on the cusp of new technology such as MIT would have an old-fashioned pencil sharpener.
Maybe seeing that pencil sharpener jogged some long forgotten memory of a man named Tony…no, no…Stanley…definitely a Stanley…who was her boyfriend before he was called off to war and the night before he left he whisked her away to the backseat of his car, proposed and then proceeded to knock her up before hauling ass to Germany…never to be seen again.
I’m not one to make these kinds of judgment calls. All I know for sure is that after 10 minutes, I asked what her if I could help her with anything and she tilted her head to the side and looked at me as if I’d just asked for her blessing to euthanize Tom Selleck [Magnum PI Tom Selleck, not no-mustache Tom Selleck]…and then she let out this sort of snort-grunt-wild-pigmy noise and sashayed out of the library and into the lobby. Where she proceeded to sit for another 20 minutes, staring at the elevator buttons prior to finally entering an elevator and exiting my life forever.
In a situation like this I always wonder: Should I have been nicer? Could I have helped her more? Should I have asked for money? What are the odds she was on vicodin? Does she have a family to take care of her? Does she know how to make a pot roast?