I'm once again at a loss for words. I don't know where to begin or how to begin.
Shit's just weird.
Weird shit happens.
I try and ignore things... ignore the sequence of events... blame it all on coincidence... but it's just fucking impossible not to trip when things get too fucking weird.
I've been busy this weekend doing some hardcore third-world shit.
I've been hooked on cocoa nibs for years, but things reached a new level once Dad brought the actual raw cacao from Nicaragua... a couple of kilos, actually.
It took us a while, but we learned the trick to preparing cacao nibs: roast the cacao bean, let it cool, peel away, grind, add to food and drinks (and fall in love)!
We did small batches a few months ago, on our first try, and stopped because it was so damn time-consuming.
Our Nicaraguan friends told us we should finish up the roasting and peeling of the remaining cacao before summer, when the beans run the risk of melting in this extreme heat. This shit is too delicious to allow for this travesty to occur, SO, Mom and I dedicated these last few nights to peeling the rest of the beans.
This shit is TIRING. It also hurts like a motherfucker, since the skin of the bean injures the fuck out of your hyponychium after a couple of hours. It's what I imagine the fucking Olmecs did as a torture tactic on their prisoners.
Anyway, I've hit the hay pretty hard these last few days thanks to this nice finisher.
I have not really given a shit about anything. I just leave the kitchen and enter my bedroom, turn on my television for my light source (and background noise... I need it in order to get sleepy. This goes back to my childhood days in the ghetto), wash my face, brush my teeth, turn off the TV, and go to sleep.
Yesterday, I was extra tired, although in an extremely good mood after a very pleasant day and evening, and a hilarious night of conversation with Mom as we did the cacao peeling.
After saying goodnight to the little lady, I left for my room and did the usual television thing and pre-bed ritual. When I returned to my room and looked up at my television, I froze.
I initially turned off my TV after finishing up with my usual Saturday-afternoon ritual: watching the cooking shows on PBS-- they end at 5PM. I had not been in my room since then.
Upon once again turning on my TV, a little before 1AM, I noticed the TV was still on PBS but didn't care to change the channel-- all I really wanted was some background noise while I washed my face.
Why did I freeze after walking into my room and looking at the TV after washing my face? Because right there, on my TV, on the science program, ON PBS... was Darcy's face.
Goddamnit. You have to be fucking kidding me right now. How the fuck... what the FUCK?!
I wasn't hallucinating. It was really the guy on television (I even rewound the program to make sure I wasn't just imagining shit)... and of course I watched the rest of the show.
Shit like this frustrates me. I don't get it. It makes me laugh... but just... it... frustrates me. Exasperates me. Makes me wave an angry fist at the Universe because it's thinking this shit is so fucking amusing/funny.
Is this fucking normal? Does everyone encounter this shit? I know people go through that thing where you "see" your crush all over the place, in things that continuously remind you of the person... but I LITERALLY see the guy... and he's "real," not a celebrity, not a famous athlete, he's a regular hometown boy... all over the place. He was on my motherfucking television at one in the morning, for crying out loud!
It gets to the point where I feel a pain in my stomach... like someone just violently kneed me. I don't cry only because I'm over doing that shit... but I do always let out a light "Oh no..." as I feel a frown make its way across my face. I lose my hearing for a few seconds, and my face turns warm.
It's the universe digging its nail a little deeper into my empty chest cavity.
The jokes no longer funny, just hurtful.
I take a deep breath, smile after releasing a single giggle, and quietly sit on my bed.
I proceed to do what the universe has worked so diligently at beating into my head: in quiet resignation, I observe and admire what I know was never meant for me.
Je le regarde, le regarde, le regarde.
"Just another girl... Nothing more, nothing less."
Shit's just weird.
Weird shit happens.
I try and ignore things... ignore the sequence of events... blame it all on coincidence... but it's just fucking impossible not to trip when things get too fucking weird.
I've been busy this weekend doing some hardcore third-world shit.
I've been hooked on cocoa nibs for years, but things reached a new level once Dad brought the actual raw cacao from Nicaragua... a couple of kilos, actually.
It took us a while, but we learned the trick to preparing cacao nibs: roast the cacao bean, let it cool, peel away, grind, add to food and drinks (and fall in love)!
We did small batches a few months ago, on our first try, and stopped because it was so damn time-consuming.
Our Nicaraguan friends told us we should finish up the roasting and peeling of the remaining cacao before summer, when the beans run the risk of melting in this extreme heat. This shit is too delicious to allow for this travesty to occur, SO, Mom and I dedicated these last few nights to peeling the rest of the beans.
This shit is TIRING. It also hurts like a motherfucker, since the skin of the bean injures the fuck out of your hyponychium after a couple of hours. It's what I imagine the fucking Olmecs did as a torture tactic on their prisoners.
Anyway, I've hit the hay pretty hard these last few days thanks to this nice finisher.
I have not really given a shit about anything. I just leave the kitchen and enter my bedroom, turn on my television for my light source (and background noise... I need it in order to get sleepy. This goes back to my childhood days in the ghetto), wash my face, brush my teeth, turn off the TV, and go to sleep.
Yesterday, I was extra tired, although in an extremely good mood after a very pleasant day and evening, and a hilarious night of conversation with Mom as we did the cacao peeling.
After saying goodnight to the little lady, I left for my room and did the usual television thing and pre-bed ritual. When I returned to my room and looked up at my television, I froze.
I initially turned off my TV after finishing up with my usual Saturday-afternoon ritual: watching the cooking shows on PBS-- they end at 5PM. I had not been in my room since then.
Upon once again turning on my TV, a little before 1AM, I noticed the TV was still on PBS but didn't care to change the channel-- all I really wanted was some background noise while I washed my face.
Why did I freeze after walking into my room and looking at the TV after washing my face? Because right there, on my TV, on the science program, ON PBS... was Darcy's face.
Goddamnit. You have to be fucking kidding me right now. How the fuck... what the FUCK?!
I wasn't hallucinating. It was really the guy on television (I even rewound the program to make sure I wasn't just imagining shit)... and of course I watched the rest of the show.
Shit like this frustrates me. I don't get it. It makes me laugh... but just... it... frustrates me. Exasperates me. Makes me wave an angry fist at the Universe because it's thinking this shit is so fucking amusing/funny.
Is this fucking normal? Does everyone encounter this shit? I know people go through that thing where you "see" your crush all over the place, in things that continuously remind you of the person... but I LITERALLY see the guy... and he's "real," not a celebrity, not a famous athlete, he's a regular hometown boy... all over the place. He was on my motherfucking television at one in the morning, for crying out loud!
It gets to the point where I feel a pain in my stomach... like someone just violently kneed me. I don't cry only because I'm over doing that shit... but I do always let out a light "Oh no..." as I feel a frown make its way across my face. I lose my hearing for a few seconds, and my face turns warm.
It's the universe digging its nail a little deeper into my empty chest cavity.
The jokes no longer funny, just hurtful.
I take a deep breath, smile after releasing a single giggle, and quietly sit on my bed.
I proceed to do what the universe has worked so diligently at beating into my head: in quiet resignation, I observe and admire what I know was never meant for me.
Je le regarde, le regarde, le regarde.
"Just another girl... Nothing more, nothing less."
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