I had a baby too. His name is Onion. He is 2 years old, he has fair hair, he has one red eye and one white eye, he is very pretty and his name is Onion, dear lady.
Yesterday was possibly one of the last in a grand sequence of last days. The past week has been something wonderful, terrific and awesome. I am suddenly living out my final week of High School, only without the yearbooks and in a much more expensive setting. How funny that smack dab in the middle of this Big time, Matt and Amy have a baby.
On this notion of final days of high school, yesterday could have been labeled Senior Ditch Day (regardless that it was Saturday and St. Patrick's day to boot). A collection of my dearest buds all got together in town, we played football on the street, then packed a cooler and headed off up North to discover one of the hugest beautiful, secluded beaches your heads could imagine. We hiked down in the windy sun and cliffs to find the thing, and then set up a post from where we climbed, played beach football, ran thru the monsterwaves, built a sandcastle, and loved every bleeding second of this conscious world.
Topping it off, I threw a barbecue at my house in the evening, and what a success it truly was! Kai baked us up some manly burgers (mine being the Boca variety), we laid out the fixings and devoured the spread so our beach-empty bellies could feel young again. Then we played some video games, bombed some irish cars (ahem), and finally the fellas left Daniel and I. But that didn't stop us! We then walked downtown, and I stood frozen in a wild position up on some crates, in front of a line of barhoppers- and Daniel announced my act to the drunken spectators.
"He comes here every Saturday, and he only talks to girls."
People were trying to break my frozenness, up on the two crates, and eventually some hippies came by and played harmonicas to my little frozen act. 10 minutes into it I was satisfied when a pretty little drunk girl came up to me to solicit my company in joining her inside the dance bar, and offering me a smoke of her cigarrette. This fixed my heart happily, and my desire to be frozen melted. I hopped off the crates after she left, and went to find my ringmaster. I didn't go in the bar, but instead Daniel and I trekked back up Beach Hill to our happy wallpapery abode above the beach.
So there it is, another day. Sorry guys. Happy Fire-hunting!
*Mig
3 comments:
Mikie that sounds like an absolutely fabtabulous day! It couldn't be more picture perfect and you described it so well. I've been a bit of the melancholy lately so I won't wax long on the passage of time and major events in this short life of ours, but can't wait to see you this week! I love you, Mom
hah short! nah, it's not short is it? I mean, if you've been alive this whole time and you're still alive now, then nothing's either long or short...but we instead don't have any real language to use or symbols to imagine to better describe what it really is. So instead, just think, CIRCLES.
thank you, circles, with growing older in between...but you're right - it seems that the same type of sequence occurs and I won't go into what that is, maybe in private...love you and reading about your days...you blessed, beautiful son, Mom
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