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June 23, 2010 / Prof Cupcake.

reunions part one: or if i am that old lady that all of you are my dentures.

i’ve been hung over for aeons now and every time i move i move as the dinosaurs in the smithsonian must when late at night they stretch their  legs and stumble off there plinths to explore the museum. i imagine they play creaky geriatric versions of hide and seek in the Egyptian wing before retiring to the prehistoric man exhibit to chuckle at how ancient men wore throw rugs and called it fashion.

but i get ahead of myself. i’m hung over. still, making me liable to do that sort of thing.

its been a month of reunions. most recently i went back to st. andrews which let me tell you was rather amazing. the place as ever is the same only north point don’t serve no muffins no more and their is a cupcake place, which sucks, because cup cakes are not muffins though they are similar. there like big dogs and small dogs. only small dogs sort of creep me the fuck out and yap alot and are freaky and big dogs are lovely cuddly movable chez lounge. i’m not even sure why i dont like cupcakes. maybe because their are not huge cakes. it was a nice reprieve from the daily fear of my plann-less life.

see at the moment I’m not big into that life path stuff. I’ve organized nothing so far and i ended up with an interesting year and a whole lot of life experience, but the things ones peers can accomplish! The things ones superiors can accomplish! OH the things one can accomplish when they have a plan! i have such angst that my slight tan is really the only thing i have to show for the whole experience of a year going by, but never fear its time for life facelifting (it changes nothing but the superficial and these days the superficial seems to count for a lot). begone all the days spent wandering in total bugle mode where i freaked my shit and cried at infomercials. (what! it cubes and slices. OH THIS IS TO MUCH.) Now I am a successful 20 something year old with my whole life, (besides the last 23 years) ahead of me.

with just a wave of my magic wand when people ask how things have been, instead of saying: “holy fuck i am totally directionless i spent months aimless wandered america looking for something a bit like destiny and desire” becomes “i was exploring my natural homeland in order to recconect with the country i once called home in order to make an educated decession about where i should move and begin my career.” hey there the same thing, but in one i sound like i have a PLAN.

all these interviewers, and old teachers and even some friends, ask what i’m doing and when i say i have no idea, they look at me like i’m bat shit mental.

a year after graduating it was nice to go back, I miss the comfort and the love and fuck even the essays which were painful and joyous and punctuated by endless trips to the pub. but its not my town no more. it’s not my life and it was nice to see that i did not want it back. So sure I just wanted to run up to new graduates and old timers alike and shake them and ask how they managed to handle life with out literally flipping out all the time. i mean how have they learned this, where were the life lessons all through college? did i miss them, where the packed away in the subtext of Shakespeare, hiding in the folds of film noir? oh college you taught me how to feel, but how to live? i’m not so sure.


all i know is that one morning i saw this ancient woman with a face as wrinkled as time drinking a coffee, alone, waiting for her breakfast in a small little cafe. she spoke to all the odd strangers that past in a voice that made her sounds like she was the child of a basset hound and a tree frog, and when the waiter asked if she wanted any thing else as he brought her some food, she made odd gurgle noises before throwing her head back in a toothless guffaw and sliding her dentures in at the same moment. “ah thats why no one was saying hello to me dis morning, i left my teeth on the table. another coffee please.” i bet when people ask her what she has done over the years, she does not worry about whether her jobs were fascinating or her exploits captivating, if her plan paned out. I bet she just tells people that she lived. Her laugh was so clear and proud, her body so broken i could not help but marveled at the resolve some people have to get up day after day and to laugh along the way.

I hope i get that. that day where i wake up and laugh with the world even while afraid. if that happens all be fine. that is my plan.


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