A New Kind of Day
I had a very exciting day on September 7th that was full of delights that I often daydream about. It was an adventure, something different and more extensive than a normal day. On that day, each second seemed to linger as each one was noticed. I was hoping that my friend… my boyfriend… my friend that’s a boy… my—I’m not really sure what he is right now—could come with me. He couldn’t, and didn’t try to contact me, which was when I started to believe the possibility that he has been avoiding me… sad, yes, but exciting too. I mean, if you think about it, there must be something interesting going on if someone wants to avoid me. I must be a ferocious beast of some sort. Grrr! I wish him well and wonder if he thinks of me. I see him only at night, in dreams of strange and altered places that become fuzzy and distorted as I wake.
The original plan was to take our bikes on the ferryboat and explore the wonders across the bay. Though, Gaby and I ended up taking our bikes on Bart first, which was quite a challenge. The singsong voice came on the speakers saying, “clear away from the doors”, just as we came to our first stop. Gaby and I then awkwardly shoved our bikes around in order to make room for the new passengers. It was only until we realized that by clearing away from the doors, we were blocking the people that were trying to exit. No! They shall never leave the compartment of hell! Anyway, it was a dance of wheels and falling, and holding on for dear life.
If I could have a moment in time where it stayed in the moment and did not pass into future thought or action, I would have enjoyed wreaking havoc on Bart. I would have loved to swing about on the holding bars, or to climb around over seat tops, or to ride my bike up and down the isles, or play loud music and dance while the Bart shot along above the city.
After arriving in San Francisco, we rode around the waterfront for a while. My mother made me bring the biggest, most hideous jacket imaginable. In that fluff jacket I felt like two people… and admittedly warm. It was funny because she made such a fuss about the jacket but neglected to notice that I was wearing flip-flops. Oh mummy.
Gaby and I decided to step into an odd building at pier 39. It was a whole room filled with old games and mechanical gismos from the later 1800s. I had my fortune told by a stiff plastic woman in a box dubbed “grandma fortune.” I got chills as the wheels began to turn, and the figure began to move behind the glass. Grandma had a blank stare, but none-the-less she seemed to be staring at me. Perhaps it was just that I was the right height for her “gaze.”
The ferryboat ride back was lovely, though we spent too much time in the mechaniqué museum so we had to rush quickly back to the station. I love boats so much. Maybe in a past life I was a sailor, or a pirate. I learned to swim when I was four and I have always adored the water. Whenever I go to the beach I run straight into the water and then swim out beyond the waves, feeling the lull and power of the sea. Someday I want to learn to sail.
The original plan was to take our bikes on the ferryboat and explore the wonders across the bay. Though, Gaby and I ended up taking our bikes on Bart first, which was quite a challenge. The singsong voice came on the speakers saying, “clear away from the doors”, just as we came to our first stop. Gaby and I then awkwardly shoved our bikes around in order to make room for the new passengers. It was only until we realized that by clearing away from the doors, we were blocking the people that were trying to exit. No! They shall never leave the compartment of hell! Anyway, it was a dance of wheels and falling, and holding on for dear life.
If I could have a moment in time where it stayed in the moment and did not pass into future thought or action, I would have enjoyed wreaking havoc on Bart. I would have loved to swing about on the holding bars, or to climb around over seat tops, or to ride my bike up and down the isles, or play loud music and dance while the Bart shot along above the city.
After arriving in San Francisco, we rode around the waterfront for a while. My mother made me bring the biggest, most hideous jacket imaginable. In that fluff jacket I felt like two people… and admittedly warm. It was funny because she made such a fuss about the jacket but neglected to notice that I was wearing flip-flops. Oh mummy.
Gaby and I decided to step into an odd building at pier 39. It was a whole room filled with old games and mechanical gismos from the later 1800s. I had my fortune told by a stiff plastic woman in a box dubbed “grandma fortune.” I got chills as the wheels began to turn, and the figure began to move behind the glass. Grandma had a blank stare, but none-the-less she seemed to be staring at me. Perhaps it was just that I was the right height for her “gaze.”
The ferryboat ride back was lovely, though we spent too much time in the mechaniqué museum so we had to rush quickly back to the station. I love boats so much. Maybe in a past life I was a sailor, or a pirate. I learned to swim when I was four and I have always adored the water. Whenever I go to the beach I run straight into the water and then swim out beyond the waves, feeling the lull and power of the sea. Someday I want to learn to sail.
posted by Integrity at 10:08 PM
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