2004-10-19
Random
The sound of my footsteps echo in the black, tar-like parking lot as I'm heading towards the car right after the bell rings. I hear someone's voice calling me from afar and I turn around to look and search and see no one, really, only John coming towards his car in the far distance and waving at me.
"What are you doing today?" He asks, shouting.
"Nothing, really..."
"Let's go to that Italian place..."
And so I get in the car and follow him, only we stop at my place so that I can leave my car there. We go to the Italian place amidst the bustling, laughter, and chatter of the summer heat.
Amidst the street corners peppered with art college students probably talking about their damned portfolios. We take chairs and sit down, ordering two Pellegrinos.
"I haven't had coffee today," I tell him.
"No wonder you looked to pissed," He responds, with a chuckle.
"I'm trying to stop. I understand it's bad for my health," I respond.
"So is starving yourself..."
"I've gotten better at that"
We drink and watch the street outside on this autumn day; two ladies pass by the large, glass windows, walking their dogs. The marina is only some distance away and I just sit back and try to close my eyes--trying to drown this splitting headache that has just developed. John says something, yet I don't hear him. The afternoon has an autumn-like taste of crispness in the breeze--the breeze that brings back memories of five years back...we sit and simply don't care what's going on.
We run into Samantha and invite her to join us, only she's late for meeting Zoe, who doesn't want to leave the spot she's because according to her, it's so damned pretty.
John and I decide to attempt and actually do something that afternoon, so we decide to go skateboarding because the water's getting too cold for any sort of water activity at the beach. Although, I did suggest that we take the sailboat and spend the afternoon fishing (or pretending like we know what we're doing). Neither of us have ever been sailing by ourselves, and we decide not to, for fear of something disastrous. So...we decide on skateboarding.
Walking out to his car he begins digging in his pocket for his keys, and I hear him muttering the words, "shit...holy damn". Asking him what's wrong, he says the keys are not in his pockets, and since we're close to his car, I can hear the motor running.
"Oh..fff..." I begin, not finishing (too unlady-like).
"How in the hell did I leave my car running? And the fucking keys inside?" He asks himself.
So the motor was running because both John and I were--at that moment--two teenagers working on four hours of sleep a night--basically, we're walking zombies. Since we're downtown, we walk to a hardware store only ten minutes away to get a wire. Perfect idea--it worked, and 45 mintues later, we break into the car.
Only, we begin driving and some guy's shouting at us. I look back and see that in all our excitement, John's left his backpack on top of his trunk. He stops at the light whilst I nonchalantly step out of the car to grab his bag. I get in the car and start laughing hysterically...
"Oh...it's not funny," he says, "Stop that..."
"Oh, but it is..."
We go to the house of the lead singer in his band so he can pick something up (his lead singer's hot) and then we decide to go to Greenroom later on that day. Yet, since we're both hungry, we stop at my house. My mom's already there--cooking; and I stop by and she says, "Oh my, John...your hair's gotten quite long"
Whatever.
We eat some Paella at my house and drink wine--now my headache gets worse.
With some time to spare, we decide to drive to the park and skateboard. I try out his new longboard, which, is pretty easy to skate with. After an hour of skateboarding and somewhat stumbling from doing never-before-done tricks (which, does, lead to falling on one's rear), we sit on our skateboards. There's a truck behind us, which, has been there since we got to the park. Another ghetto-fabulous type car rolls around. The man in the white truck gets out and steps into the other car to talk to the man briefly. He steps out.
five minutes later.
John and I are still contemplating life whilst perching on our skateboards. Another car rolls around, the man from the truck gets out again, and they all roll off.
I stare at the empty parking space...
"Yes, Libet...you've just witnessed your first drug transaction..." Says John.
"Oh, ok..."
We continue skateboarding.
At seven at night we go to the Greenroom at school to watch the skits, which were wonderfully done. Yet, the headache gets worse.
Fast-forwarding to later on that night, I stumble through my front door with my head pounding and this horrible feeling of nausea consuming me. With all of my clothes, I stumble into bed, still feeling horrible.
But here I am today, all better now, and having to go to school in a few minutes.
Someone please tell me what the point of this entry was...