crazy like a fox!
No shoes, tiptoes, slow movement, even better crawling on the floor, make sure there are no shadows, is my bracelet hitting the cement floor and making that sound? I hope my cell phone doesn't ring right now....
This is what pathetic sounds like. School ended early on Friday and I was just enjoying some alone time before the locos came over to make my life wonderful/challenging/crazy all at once. But some other kids came over to my house early wanting to play. Not now. Please not now. I just want to eat my spaghetti, look at photos, listen to English music without explaining the lyrics in Spanish and read a magazine in peace. I heard their footsteps coming. I turned off my music immediately, threw my magazine behind me and dropped to the floor.
Pathetic, no?
I heard, "Cati? Cati? Are you there?" I just kept thinking, "Invisible, invisible, you're invisible". It's a game I used to play in college. I used to think that if I believed hard enough that I was invisible, I could almost be invisible. To quote Seinfeld, "It's not a lie if you believe it." I did it a lot in my Spanish literature classes because my Spanish was horrible then and I wouldn't be able to express myself or what was happening in Borges' poetry. (Not too different that my current situation.) They kept knocking and started hitting the gate. I ran to a corner, stayed there until the voices faded while believing I was invisible. After, I ran to my room and closed the door knowing that I would be safe, at least for a little while.
I'm being selfish, I know. But I am not a free babysitter. I do want some time to myself before I breakup fights over who is the strongest, which movie is the best, who gets to drink the last of my Zuko strawberry punch, and preventing kids from looking under my bed and stealing my stash of Eclipse gum. I can't help but laugh at myself as I think about crawling on the floor in a skirt with no shoes trying to be as silent as possible. It's all part of the adventure.
This is what pathetic sounds like. School ended early on Friday and I was just enjoying some alone time before the locos came over to make my life wonderful/challenging/crazy all at once. But some other kids came over to my house early wanting to play. Not now. Please not now. I just want to eat my spaghetti, look at photos, listen to English music without explaining the lyrics in Spanish and read a magazine in peace. I heard their footsteps coming. I turned off my music immediately, threw my magazine behind me and dropped to the floor.
Pathetic, no?
I heard, "Cati? Cati? Are you there?" I just kept thinking, "Invisible, invisible, you're invisible". It's a game I used to play in college. I used to think that if I believed hard enough that I was invisible, I could almost be invisible. To quote Seinfeld, "It's not a lie if you believe it." I did it a lot in my Spanish literature classes because my Spanish was horrible then and I wouldn't be able to express myself or what was happening in Borges' poetry. (Not too different that my current situation.) They kept knocking and started hitting the gate. I ran to a corner, stayed there until the voices faded while believing I was invisible. After, I ran to my room and closed the door knowing that I would be safe, at least for a little while.
I'm being selfish, I know. But I am not a free babysitter. I do want some time to myself before I breakup fights over who is the strongest, which movie is the best, who gets to drink the last of my Zuko strawberry punch, and preventing kids from looking under my bed and stealing my stash of Eclipse gum. I can't help but laugh at myself as I think about crawling on the floor in a skirt with no shoes trying to be as silent as possible. It's all part of the adventure.
posted by Kathryn @ 9:11 AM
1 Comments:
At 10:59 AM,
owl e. said…
haha, kath.
Have you seen the Noah Baumbach movie, Kicking and Screaming, about what happens when you graduate college and don't leave?
There is an awesome scene where there is a knock at the door and this guy drops to the ground, makes his friend drop to the ground and insists that the knocker is "the cookie man," a cookie seller who is notoriously hard to say no to. So they lie on the ground while the knocking continues and whisper, "GO AWAY, COOKIEMAN." It's much better to see it, but ... that's the best I can do in text.
I miss you and Honduras. I often wish you were around to hang out in the Ukrainian Village with me or at Let's Pet Puppies. And congratulations on the one-year. I hope your next year is great. When you end up making back to the city, windy one, I expect a bottle of plata to remind me of all that awesome cheap rum I've missed.
m.
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