We lay in a park on a towel which reminds me of disco. We’re surrounded by bikes, sandwiches and sunblock. He is reading a smarter level of literature, while I sit with the safety of a NY Times best seller. There are people playing softball, churchgoers kneeling on the lawn, dogs running, there are layers and loungers, there is us and them. An hour goes by without a word exchanged by either one of us.
“It’s the ability to understand another’s situation, or feelings.”
“How about apathy?”
“The inability to do so.”
“To actually understand another’s situation or feelings. Relate to.”
“Ah. Ok. Thanks. Sorry to bug you.”
This is what I love about him. I realize He enjoys and is willing to answer nearly everything I ask him. And he does so without a sigh or a hint of annoyance to the interruption. He does so without judgement. It’s as if he’s excited (almost). And we sit in silence again, absorbing words written by two people we don’t know and never will. And we understand.
It occurs to me while lying in a park on a blanket purchased for 11 bucks at the local Polish five and dime, that I am experiencing the now of one of those times created better during the retrospect, the time where you say to someone else “that was a great time. I wish I could go back. I was happy then.”
You’re wearing orange pants again? :)
Yesterday was a lovely day, wasn’t it? I sat outside and read magazines and planted a few tomato plants.
It was amazing. So windy.
Freakgirl? Are you away from the fires? I hope. :( Poor Jersey.
Not close to the fires. I’m glad I wasn’t down the beach yesterday; sounds like a lot of people were stuck there because they closed the parkway.
her said it was a mess. Seems they just stopped traffic dead.
glad you’re clear. Totally sad.
Oh, by the way, yes I do have my orange pants on. (again). I think I’ll wear them all week and then go running on Saturday and wear them again.
I think that’s a splendid idea.
i think after you do that you should save them in a plastic bag and take them to work and tie them around the head of the person who stole your sandwich…
That, my friend, is a brilliant idea.
I’ll be all like, “YO BITCH?! YOU WANT SOME OF MY ORANGE PANTS? ONLY IT AIN’T ONLY ORANGE NO MORE, IS IT?!”
Nifkin, you should stay away from Oz. :)
You know, I bet the girl who comments on the number of days in a row you wear pants is the person who stole your sandwich. She was doing the old smokescreen…piss Mihow off about her pants and she’ll forget all about the sandwuch stealing.
Anyway, what I originally intended to comment on was the phrase “times created better during the retrospect.” I totally love that. So simply true.
you know what megami? that girl… the pant-commenter? she is actually the girl who (I was told) stole my sandwich.
I’m starting to think that megami was the one who stole your sandwich.
::stares at megami::
“Did you steal my sandwich? It has a moist-maker in the middle. Did you take it? Watch out for my pants, girl”
You shouldn’t say “moist-maker” and “pants” in the same paragraph, you know.
I love sandwiches. I have been known to get on the Greyhound for 8 hours just to get a rare, New York designer sandwich. And these days Greyhound is offering companion fares, so me and a fellow sandwich lover can take the trip for the price of one. Watch yourselves, my eastern seaboard friends.
This isn’t good for my rage.
:: sneaking away, snickering and chewing on a sandwich ::
hello my friend.