November 17, 2008 @ 5:39 pm by sean
Here at the library there is a little girl at the computer next time mine, she may be 5 or 6, and as I walked passed to sit down I glanced at her screen and noticed a youtube video of two women making out. I’m not sure how to recommend she watch something a little more appropriate at a public library, that’s best kept at home unless she wishes to get kicked out.
I’m not a mandatory reporter, but there must be something going on at home that isn’t quite best for her.
Anyway, I can finally be a man, soon. Last Wednesday I was at Graham’s 318 in Geneva for my routine rest + latte before tutoring, and I sat down near the fireplace by a couch where a lady was sitting, and it turned out to be Gloria, one of the sisters who owns Elgin Books. We chatted about books and coffee shops and such, and I enjoyed happening across someone I knew at a coffee shop. I was at Elgin Books this weekend to buy a miscellaneous hard cover to make a book shelf with, and Gloria must have mentioned me to her sister, because her sister remembered that I had inquired last September about a copy of The Virginian after hearing a book review on NPR about it. They had one in their database, but it was never in the store. But Saturday, the hands of fate steered me in a different direction, and Gloria steered me to the Western section, where two copies of The Virginian sat – I even got a choice. Sancho Panza, it turns out, offers me no help. He got that governorship he wanted, turned out to be good at it, but ultimately gave up in response to the jokes the duke and duchess played on him, without his knowledge of course. First, however, I must finish that book, and then I can start the Virginian, which immediately eclipsed all other to-be-read books on my shelf.
I’m feeling strangely normal today. For once in a long long while I had the entire weekend off and for no reason at all. I had to drop off some milk Saturday, but that was it. Well, I got two calls also on Sunday. Saturday I ventured to Elgin during the day and made my book shelf in the evening, but was alone all evening. I caught some of This American Life, which was fantastic. Sunday I finally went to Second Baptist. It was a glorious return. From the moment I sat down there were the usual one-liner anecdotal revelations that seem to come so easily there. And the sermon was wonderful, as usual. Pastor spoke about the blind man who was blind not because his parents or he sinned, but so that the glory of God could be shown in him. The connection being that one’s circumstance isn’t necessarily a result of our actions, but so God can reveal Himself through our circumstance. I went home and the rest of the day was once again alone. I listened to the rest of Cartalk, and caught the full episode of This American Life. Napped. Went to the library Cleaned up my room. Talked to mum on the phone a while. Finished the book shelf. Had dinner. Nearly finished Don Quixote. Went to bed. Woke up today and felt different; normal. I’m not sure what kind of normal, or why.
I got to hardly think about work all weekend for once, and went into work having not been stressing about it the previous day. So I guess that was different.
Mum and I talked about me getting a computer finally. And dad called today to talk about it and he might even order it today. I have to remind myself that a computer isn’t going to solve my problems. Though it certainly opens up some opportunities that have otherwise been closed for a while – such as communication with the outside world on a Saturday night when I’m home alone.
I was recognized by someone (Gloria at Elgin Books) and spoke with someone not usual but with some familiarity.
I made a book shelf.
I got my bus tickets to and from home.
I got to email Amy and already even got one back.
I was invited to Wednesday Bible Study at church.
I heard a encouraging sermon, and got the general good feeling to be back at Second Baptist.
But I was alone the entire weekend, and I didn’t want to be. I didn’t even see a friend the whole time. From when I woke up Saturday until this moment now, I’ve not seen a friend. I saw Dave Sanders, I guess he is a friend kind of. I saw Gloria, more of an acquaintence. I saw my employees. But those were brief. The entire time I was simultaneously at the house and awake I didn’t interact with anyone who lived there since I left for work at about 3 on Friday and said good bye to Ian. Actually, he might have left before me.
While talking to my dad on the phone today about a computer, we mostly talked about his weekend hunting trip this last weekend. Apparently he only saw one deer, and great uncle Gary is the only one who got one. I think I might go next year, if I’m in Michigan. I’ve always been under the impression that I couldn’t kill an animal (a significant reason for my vegetarianism), but the thought of shooting a deer from a number of yards away doesn’t sound so bad, and not out of place for me. I’ve gone to where he hunts and helped set up his blinds and stuff. I love the Michigan out doors. I thoroughly enjoy skeet shooting with grandpa. Dr. Halverson once commented about how bold it is to actually stab someone with a knife, one would have to be right there – shooting someone from far off is one thing, but stabbing completely different. And so it is with shooting a deer. How strange in two posts Dr. Halverson came up both times.
Well, I started with a song last time, I’ll end with one today. Utilities, by the Weakerthans, is just splendid. The music is appropriate for the song, though I’d rather the guitar solo was different. But it’s the lyrics that make it. John Samson has some great lyrics, but I don’t usually like their music. Utilities and Left And Leaving are two exceptions. Great music and great lyrics. And Utilities, is a song about wanting to feel useful, like I do. Posting lyrics is lame without a link, but since I’m at the library without head phones I can’t check to see if this is a good version.
got this feeling that today doesn’t like me
oh, the air tastes like flowers and paint.
there’s a sink full of bottles and cutlery
and the car has got a list of complaints.
i just wish i were a toothbrush or a solder gun
make me something somebody can use.
we can wish on the pop of a lightbulb
or those photos lying yellowed and curled.
lose some boxes near abandoned electronics
in the corners of the basements of the world.
guess our wishes don’t do dishes or brake repairs
make them something somebody can use.
got a face full of ominous weather
smirking smile of a high pressure ridge
got more faults than the state of california
and the heart is a badly built bridge
seems the most i have to offer
doesn’t offer much
make it something somebody can use.