h1

Musings Whilst Attending a Pot of Couscous

August 4, 2009

A few quick thoughts that demand public iteration, admittedly of moderate worth and less coherence–

Non Sequitur #1:

There’s a front moving in and bringing with it something more than a breeze but less than a wind. After a long, tangled day that has admittedly come close to kicking my ass, walking through it was pretty much wonderful. I think there’s a kind of mesmerism to motion, and a sort of magic, and that little bit of moving air went a long way towards recharging me.

Non Sequitur #2:

I have a scouting party of Texans with me tonight. I hesitate to call them an invasion or an occupying force–that will begin next month–but at the moment, my apartment is home to three denizens of the Lone Star State. The single greatest reason this amuses me? There’s a friend of my cousin’s boyfriend who came with them–and claims to know one of the J’s that makes frequent appearances in my life. Even if they don’t know each other, they’re from the same small town in East Texas (and, apparently, two-thirds of said town’s population has relocated here. Maybe I *should* call it an invasion!).

Non Sequitur #3:

I am eternally taken aback by how *hot* my cousin is, in the sense that I’m shocked that her internal body temperature has not yet led to spontaneous combustion. When we were little and she’d spend the night, the wee hours would find her curled into a ball at my back. The wee hours would find me waking up with the covers kicked off, haunted by dreams of lava flows and Dante’s Inferno. Said waking was generally followed by much shoving and “Get OFF, LACE! You’re ROASTING me!” Then I’d get in trouble for making the baby cry.

It’s bloody hard being the oldest.

Which reminds me–

Non Sequitur #4:

I received a call today from brother J (the older little brother, who’s finishing up college), who had discovered something disturbing about brother M (the younger little brother, who starts high school next week). Kids these days, shall we say, are growing up fast, and J found himself in a position of needing to, um, be a big brother, and offer counsel about how to make wise choices. J wanted to let me know what was going on, and also tell me that he didn’t want to be a Big Brother Handling Uncomfortable Situations anymore (this is the second coming-of-age issue in a week). I laughed.  About time he had his turn.

THEN I received a call from Mom, who had discovered something disturbing about brother J, and felt that I was in the best position to firmly offer him counsel about making wise choices. I suddenly realized that I didn’t want to be Big Sister Handling Uncomfortable Situations anymore.  The Universe laughed.

Non Sequitur #5:

Our email was down at work until about 3:30. This simple fact, however, rendered our office the dystopian vision of an apocalyptic wasteland, it’s inhabitants the zombified remnants of a once-advanced population, now incapable of communication and stymied by the most mundane of tasks. We staggered from desk to desk, gaping in horror at melting faces of executives abandoned by their morning Variety, by event invitations held hostage in the aether, by annotated charts and summarized contracts rendered uneditable in the black of the server non-space. A few brave souls tried to retain the accoutrements of civilization, pausing at a cubicle here or there to extend a battered scrap of paper. “I’m emailing you the allocations,” they would offer, and watch helplessly as those further gone than themselves turned, expectantly staring at a flickering inbox. “I don’t have it here. Did you send/receive?” would be the reply, and the nomads would move on, roaming endlessly in search of fellow productive humans. From time to time, the technocrats would emerge from their hallowed shrine, clad in long robes and bird-billed masks like the plague doctors of yore, and stand before their temple. The religious would gather below, and wait eagerly for their wisdom. “Blackberry service is also down,” they would intone. “But can’t you call T-Mobile?” responded the crowd hopefully. “We know not the length of the outage, but webmail and remote access will not avail you. We will come again in glory, to announce the return of service.”

Okay, time for dinner.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: