this morning i was sitting on my boyfriend's bed,our bed,getting ready for work at my 730am pace. slow. he was in the shower and i was mentally trolling through the day's activities,commute/finishing a book i ultimately both did and didn't want to end,work,lunch,work,commute,dinner,american tv on my macbook with my flatmate [i owe my life and sanity to you,illegal downloading],shower,bed,etc.
and then,out of nowhere,i had a flashback. you know those flashbacks that seem to erupt from nothingness,like you're flashing back to something you haven't remembered in years,something you haven't remembered ever,possibly? it was that.
it smelled like the grass did at my babysitter's when i was 6. of course,it didn't actually smell like that where i was sitting--it smelled of bachelor flat,stale air,sex sheets.
but out of nowhere i psychologically picked up the scent and thought about how nice it was when i was and i would go to kindergarten and then my friends and i would go to flora's,my favorite babysiiter ever who knew i hated hot dogs but was too lazy to make something different for me while the rest of the kids were eating hot dogs so she'd make me one and i'd cringe and then she'd say we had to race and i loved it and it was just me and flora racing to see who could finish their hot dog first and it was the best distraction and needless to say that now at age 22 i am a really big fan of hot dogs,and then we'd all play outside and then my mom would come pick me up and i'd ask her if i could watch full house only i called it 'michelle' because i could never remember the real name of the show and she would say yes [because when was it not on?] and we'd proceed home and she'd make this lovely dinner with a side of tomatoes because it was summer and we at one time had an actual functioning garden that produced monstrous monstrous tomatoes and then i'd play outside with my best friend and we'd hula hoop on the driveway while my dad sat in the garage half watching us and half watching the cubs game but mostly just smoking cigars and then i would catch fireflies like i thought they were going into extinction and my mom would find a mason jar for me to store them in and together we'd cut holes in the lid so they could survive and i'd collect so many and it felt like millions but in reality it was probably only 7 and then i'd set them on my dresser and i knew they'd all be dead by morning because i was a pretty realistic little kid but that never bothered me and ultimately life was just beautiful.
it's still beautiful,but in an entirely different way.
but i miss the firefly days sometimes for no reason but they deserve to be missed.
sorry for the lengthy one-sentence narrative. i just finished up story of my life by jay mcinerny,a terrific book written from the perspective of a semi-vapid coke addict who rights in a similar fashion. it has obviously propelled my love for run-ons.
and call it a day.
