Cracking Open This Tiny Window On My Life
It's odd how the mind works. Since I left Augusta, I've left a circle of friends that were a bit apart from those normally cataloged here on the blog. All of them were residents of the apartment where I lived so we sometimes got together on weekends to do things in town or hang out in each others' apartments (Yes, even before Castro died). One in particular drew my attention. Sarah, who I think has been briefly mentioned in various posts but never fully described here. The last day or two, for whatever reason, had me thinking of her. I left Augusta around Christmas. When I left she was away in Texas visiting her family for the holidays. I never said goodbye to her. I never called her. And I have not seen nor spoken to her since (for reasons I won't detail here). I still have her book on Palestine. It's in the trunk of my car.
She had not always been my neighbor. She moved in during the last year I was there. We first met while doing laundry. After that I was sure to do my laundry on that day of the week, at that time. It worked. I got to know her fairly well. Chatting with Rebecca about all this yesterday, I remembered an entry I made in a notebook I keep (handwritten too, imagine that in this day and age). It's not an account of how we first met but an account of how we came to know each other and the start of a weird pseudo-relationship that lasted a month or two before we went back to being just friends... kinda... Anyway I put it here as a backup and to let you read something not about motorcycles or dogs or traveling or geocaches. It was originally written in August of 2007. I've edited it a bit to make it less debaucherous and to clean up some grammar and punctuation.
"...We'd played pool and had a lot of beers. Somebody suggested we figure out how to get on the roof. I knew where the attic door was. I went up first, followed by Sarah. We found an opening and I climbed out to a nearly full moon. Sarah came up, I pulled her through. (She later claimed I bruised her foot doing this but thats nonsense). Old Man Don followed precariously. I was certain he would fall as he hung over the hole in the roof with every limb struggling for a hold. "Three points of contact", he said, "that's all you need." And it was all he needed. Finally Apple Andy came up. We surveyed the roof. Not as many air conditioners as apartments it seemed. We were up there for hours. Sarah telling us about her brothers and the tattoo on her shoulder. Don telling and retelling the same stories we'd heard before. ... The stars were hazy but visible through the city lights. We picked out the Big Dipper, tried to find the North Star and identify Venus. Or was it Mars? We argued about which way was North. I was right, none of us are astronomers. Slowly I felt closer to her. She drew me in with her glances, her touch. My arm found its way around her delicate waist. Andy and Don seemed oblivious, more interested in the stars, unaware of this new gravity. It seemed improbable that we should settle, as we did, on her apartment floor. ... The sun would be up soon. We slept for awhile before going to breakfast with Don at the cafe. "What a crazy night!" he would tell us. It brought him to life but left me dreaming, and with so many questions."
And that's all you get. Now back to motorcycles, dogs, traveling, and geocaches.
She had not always been my neighbor. She moved in during the last year I was there. We first met while doing laundry. After that I was sure to do my laundry on that day of the week, at that time. It worked. I got to know her fairly well. Chatting with Rebecca about all this yesterday, I remembered an entry I made in a notebook I keep (handwritten too, imagine that in this day and age). It's not an account of how we first met but an account of how we came to know each other and the start of a weird pseudo-relationship that lasted a month or two before we went back to being just friends... kinda... Anyway I put it here as a backup and to let you read something not about motorcycles or dogs or traveling or geocaches. It was originally written in August of 2007. I've edited it a bit to make it less debaucherous and to clean up some grammar and punctuation.
"...We'd played pool and had a lot of beers. Somebody suggested we figure out how to get on the roof. I knew where the attic door was. I went up first, followed by Sarah. We found an opening and I climbed out to a nearly full moon. Sarah came up, I pulled her through. (She later claimed I bruised her foot doing this but thats nonsense). Old Man Don followed precariously. I was certain he would fall as he hung over the hole in the roof with every limb struggling for a hold. "Three points of contact", he said, "that's all you need." And it was all he needed. Finally Apple Andy came up. We surveyed the roof. Not as many air conditioners as apartments it seemed. We were up there for hours. Sarah telling us about her brothers and the tattoo on her shoulder. Don telling and retelling the same stories we'd heard before. ... The stars were hazy but visible through the city lights. We picked out the Big Dipper, tried to find the North Star and identify Venus. Or was it Mars? We argued about which way was North. I was right, none of us are astronomers. Slowly I felt closer to her. She drew me in with her glances, her touch. My arm found its way around her delicate waist. Andy and Don seemed oblivious, more interested in the stars, unaware of this new gravity. It seemed improbable that we should settle, as we did, on her apartment floor. ... The sun would be up soon. We slept for awhile before going to breakfast with Don at the cafe. "What a crazy night!" he would tell us. It brought him to life but left me dreaming, and with so many questions."
And that's all you get. Now back to motorcycles, dogs, traveling, and geocaches.
posted by outpostbabu at 2:17 AM
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