someone like you
Thank you, Adele, for kind of-sort-of-almost exactly satisfying my feelings right now. I needed this. Cheers.
My client and I were hanging out in the dollar store parking lot as she smoked a cigarette, and I watched from the driver seat.
A woman,her ragged car parked across from mine, struggled to change a flat tire. Her male friend looked on and they tinkered with different rusty tools and jacks and wheels with little success.
The woman turned to my client and asked her a question that my client deflected to me.
“Do you have 14 inch tires? My friend has 16 inch tires and I was going to use his but they’re not the same…”
“I couldn’t tell you,” I said. “I really dont’t know.”
She continued to stare at me, sweaty skin, ragged black hair. She looked tethered. “You got a donut spare I could use?”
My first thought was trying to explain to my dad that I’d given away my spare tire to a shady woman in the dollar store parking lot.
“I can’t do that, no. Sorry.”
When we returned home, I told the story to another client and her staff. We all laughed at the thought of it, and my client joked, “what if I let her have one of the wheels off your car?”
“You’d have to walk home,” I told her, “we’d have to walk home.”
The entire night I’ve had the vision of a car with only three wheels. It would still stand and wouldn’t look entirely ruined, but it would be hard to drive.
My boyfriend and I separated last night, after a lengthy bout with long distance and life. Today has been a daze — and I feel like a car with only three wheels.
New dawn
New day
New life
A few weeks ago, I spoke with a professor who told me, in a time when I was in extreme doubt, something that has been keeping me going. She said, “when you’re at the point of frustration with something, and you want to give up, don’t; that moment means you’re close to finding the answer to your problem.”
So I’ve reached that point — wanting to give up. And I’m not frustrated because I don’t want to do this anymore, but because I’ve been so close to the answers for so long and I cannot by any stretch obtain them at this time.
oreos. stat.
It just occurred to me that I haven’t had an Oreo in two days.
So what. So what?! How did I go so long without realizing that I hadn’t indulged in one of my favorite things? How have I slept at night? How did my chocolately friends not crawl out of their box in the cupboard and drag themselves to me at 2 am as I pathetically watched Gary Busey scatter pepperonis throughout the streets of New York City before Donald Trump decided to kick David Cassidy off of Celeb Apprentice? Where was my mind?
Maybe I haven’t needed them, because I feel calm and collected. The Oreo remedy, practiced by the stressed and the hungry, the bored, the young and old, cookie crumb collectors and connoisseurs alike — eaten and enjoyed, no one dislikes an Oreo. They’re God’s gift to every kind, their greatness paralleled only by Oprah, the Slap-Chop, and toilet paper…and perhaps, Gary Busey, tossing pepperonis along sidewalks and crosswalks in proclamation, “I’m the pepperoni prophet!”
So now I’m sitting here with a sleeve of Oreos, a jar of peanut butter and a gallon of milk. I have some catching up to do.
walk & talk
I found this video via a twitter friend of mine. It’s so short and sweet, as it concluded I realized I’d been smiling the entire way through it.
Please enjoy!
Walk and Talk from Disselkøen and Knoll on Vimeo.
dogs. lasers. snows. shoppings. schoolstuffs.
That’s pretty much the “excitement.” The coolest thing about this week (and next) is that I don’t have a single “final” — the beauty of being a design major. The most uncool thing about this week is I have to turn in my design portfolio at the end of it (which is the equivalent of five finals. Come to think of it, maybe I’m not winning in the “finals” game?
xx
j



