The End of the Rainbow

I drove through the end of a rainbow tonight.  It was on the way to The Mormon’s house, and there was this huge rainbow taking up the entire sky.  It had been a while since I’d seen one that big.  And then as I took a curve, there were trees in front of me because I was about to take yet another curve, and I could clearly see the rainbow against the trees a few feet in front of me, straight down to the ground.  Dude.  Straight to the ground.  Have you ever seen that before?  I didn’t know it was possible to see that.  I didn’t think they really touched the ground.  But this one did!  It was amazing!  I looked up, just to make sure it was the same one, and it perfectly matched up with the huge rainbow in the sky.  I actually found the rainbow’s end.  Alas, there was no pot of gold there…but it had to be good luck or something, right?

In other news, last week, after a six-month hiatus from school, I finally started my very first class at UNF.  I didn’t know what to expect from it–it’s a pre-req., and all I knew was that it was called Themes & Types in Literature.  I didn’t even know what the theme was until I got in there and discovered that it was drama.

We get to act in my class.  How bloody cool is that!?  I got to act today, too, and I felt so hyper afterward!  I only had two lines, but still.

We were discussing text and subtext, and the teacher, Professor M., asked for four volunteers to be broken into two groups and perform these brief, five-line scenes.  I went out into the hallway with the other three volunteers, and she informed me and this guy, Quentin, that we were to perform it as a long-term couple who were breaking up, despite the fact that neither of us really wanted to.  At first I couldn’t get into it, because the only experience I have with long-term couples is The Mormon, whom I’ve been with for six months, and I never intend to break up with him.  But then I just pictured him telling me he wanted to break up, and suddenly my two lines sounded angry, and I thought, Wow…I miss acting!

Eventually I just decided to play it sad, so after we finished performing–and the class loved it, by the way, and gave us much applause–Professor M. said, “Did you all see all the emotions on Ginny’s face?” and I was all, Hell, yeah.

I miss acting.  But we get to perform a scene with groups, I believe from The Laramie Project, which is exciting, because I’ve seen this play twice and thought it would be fun to perform.  I turned to Kinnebrew (this guy I went to high school with whom I know can act, because he was in drama with me) and whispered, “You are so in my group for that.”  This scene will make up 30% of our grade.

So yeah, I’m excited; I think it will be fun.

That night at work, I informed Bob that I was hyper, and he said, “Wow, that isn’t like you at all”–but seriously, not sarcastically.  And I thought, Bob doesn’t know me at all, does he?  We’ve only been working together for two years, for crying out loud.

We served, on the same row, egg noodles, egg rolls, and eggplant tonight.  I noticed this after I’d been standing there for about thirty minutes, and wondered who would be the first person to order nothing but those three items.  It happened to be my friend Shawn, who returned today because he has a Summer B class.  He thought this was very funny.

Tomorrow I have to buy books, pay tuition/fees, and get a student ID.

Then, as it is the weekend, I get to see my boyfriend.  People at the cafe keep asking me if I work Friday or Saturday, and I’m like, “Fuck no.”  I see him twice a week, and I’m not sacrificing either of those two days.  And I figured out a way to make myself not feel guilty about telling them I can’t work those days–as he lives an hour away from me, I feel that I can honestly say that I go out of town every weekend.  It sounds better than, “I only get to spend time with my boyfriend twice a week, and you can’t take that away from me.”  I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before.

I realized something interesting yesterday.  For my entire life, I’ve felt weird hanging out with my friends around my family, which is why I don’t like hanging with people at my house, and I feel awkward introducing people to my parents–it isn’t that I’m embarrassed of them; it is that I feel weird because I’m two different people around friends and family, and I don’t know how to act.  And I didn’t know how to describe this phenomenon until yesterday, when I was mulling over it, and the words, “Worlds are colliding!” floated into my head, and I realized that the entire thing had been covered on an episode of Seinfeld.  Go figure.  And now I know exactly how to describe it to people, because Seinfeld makes perfect sense to me.  I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before!

All right, that’s it for tonight, because my eyes are all blurry and I have a headache.

…Suddenly I crave a lemon.  How odd.

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Stalkers Anonymous Strikes Back…Again: Part 2

After about forty-five minutes, he appeared at his car, and the excitement really began.

He pulled over into the gas station parking lot (“DUCK, GINNY!” Monica and Lisa yelled, but I merely scrunched down a bit–I wasn’t too worried about him recognizing me, and besides, I was wearing dark sunglasses) and parked.  Then he went inside.

“I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t go inside for those slushies,” Lisa said, because a couple minutes before, we had been considering doing just that.  “It would have been like, ‘Oh, hi, Mark, how are you?  I didn’t expect to see you here!'”

When he came back to his car, we had moved to the end of the row, so as to be less visible to him.  He got into his car and backed straight into our previous spot and parked again.  And then he just sat there.  At first, we were unsure whether he had somehow escaped from the lot and we just hadn’t seen it (this really isn’t possible, but it seemed more likely than him moving his car into another spot and just sitting there).  So we pulled around into the Ruby Tuesday lot to check if he was still there.  He was, with his lights on, just sitting there.  We came back to the gas station after driving around a couple of times.  We parked at one of the spots so as to appear to be getting gas, then realized how suspicious that looked, drove around a couple more times awkwardly, and returned to our spot at the end.  And still he sat there.  We settled down to wait in our spot and just watch.

We were all a bit too relaxed, and only I was watching at the exact moment he pulled out of his spot.  “HE’S GOING, HE’S GOING!” I screamed, and the chase was on.

The traffic lights actually played to our favor this time, remarkably.  Monica didn’t have to run any.

The Bad Date drives like a bloody maniac.  We were going 80, sometimes a little over.  He had to have been going about 100.

We tried to stay in the right lane, because we honestly had no idea where he was going to exit, but knew that eventually he would have to exit from the right lane.  His exit, when he eventually turned, ended up being way further out than we’d expected.  And then suddenly, there was nothing.  We had the lights from houses, and that was about it.  He lives in the middle of nowhere.  It was very creepy.

Even when we got into the residential areas, he continued to drive at about 80.  At one fork in the road, we almost lost him.  There was no telling which way he had turned, and basically all we could do at that point was take a guess.

“Somebody’d better make a decision fast!” Lisa said.

I glanced one way; I glanced the other.  And then, “LEFT!” I said, and we turned left, and a second or so later, there he was, way down at the end.  “SPEED UP!” we yelled at Monica, and she did, and it was him.

For a while, I at least, and I’m pretty sure both Monica and Lisa were doing the same, was trying to remember all the turns we were making.  It actually crossed my mind that it felt a bit like Hansel and Gretel.  Amusingly, Monica later said, “We should have left bread crumbs!”

We did finally lose him, and after sitting for a moment in disappointment, turned around to head back.

Unfortunately, we had made so very many turns, none of us were completely sure anymore how to get out.  “This is where he was going to bring you, Ginny!” Monica said, in daunting tones.

“Oh, wow,” I said.  “That’s really creepy–I hadn’t even thought of that!”

Eventually we ended up at a brightly-lit gas station, and Lisa locked the doors as Monica and I got out to ask directions.  The gas station, however, was locked, so we turned around and discovered a car with two teenagers who were filling up, and we asked them instead.

We returned to the car and followed the directions, which led us, after many, many minutes, back to the main road, and home again.

Stalking is fun.  No wonder I’ve had so many stalkers.

Stalkers Anonymous Strikes Back…Again

Have you ever been on a stakeout?  Have you ever waited inconspicuously in a parking lot for somebody to get off work so you could follow him home?  It’s quite envigorating.

On Friday night, The Mormon, Katie and Duckie, Monica, and I gathered at Lisa’s house to watch old videos of Lisa’s from high school and from now.  Mostly, we watched our stalking video from last year.  And it was every bit as hilarious as we’d imagined it to be.

Sometime while watching the video and agreeing on how much we missed our stalking adventures, we decided to have one that night.  I took The Mormon back to my house, where his car was.  (On the way there, he said, “I learned a lot about you tonight, Ginny.”  “Really?  Like what?” I said.  “I’m not sure yet; I’m going to have to take this all home and process it.”  Then he kissed me.)

So we got out at my house, he told me to be safe, and I went inside, not expecting to find my parents both still awake at…I think it was then 11:30.  But there they were.  They wanted to know where I was going.  I lied.  I’m not proud of it, but I did.  I told them we were likely going to Monica’s to watch more videos.  And then I went to wait for them, as they were to pick me up, in the driveway, so they couldn’t come in and tell a different story.

As I waited in the driveway, a car pulled up and stopped in front of my house.  It was not Lisa and Monica, however; it was some guy in his 40s.  The light was on inside his car, and his window was down, and he was just sitting there, staring into space.  So I went close enough to his car to be able to call to him, but keeping my distance just the same.

“Can I help you?” I called.

There was no answer.  The guy continued to sit, staring between me and…some random point in space.  He looked like he may have been out of his mind.  I backed up ever so slightly.

“Are you lost?” I said.

Still no answer.  More of the creepy staring.  He definitely looked lost.

“Do you need directions to someplace?” I said.

More creepy staring.  I was very creeped out.  But that feeling did not compare to how I felt after what happened next.

He turned towards me, stared at my face, and said, in a low voice, “Do you know Ginny?”

What crossed my mind here was that something paranormal was taking place.  Perhaps I was being abducted by aliens.  Maybe I was suddenly in another dimension where I did not exist, but this man was a dimension-hopper or something who had heard of me before.  Possibly he was sent to deliver a message to me from the future.  This is how my mind works.

But before too many seconds had passed, I did have the presence of mind to remember that there is a young girl down the street named Ginny, for whom I have babysat before, and that this man, who suddenly looks slightly familiar, might actually be her father.

So I said, “Well…I know her, but not very well.”

Again, he stared into space, still looking lost.  It eventually came out that Ginny (the other Ginny) was not at home and that he had been driving around looking for her.  I said I hadn’t seen anything, but I would of course let them know if I did.

“And what is your name?” he said.

“I’m Ginny.”

He looked lost again momentarily.

“I’m Ginny…[Brother]’s sister,” I said.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, before saying thanks and driving home.

A few minutes later, Monica and Lisa liberated me from my Driveway of Creepy Lost People, and we headed to Ruby Tuesday.

Although The Bad Date gave up and hasn’t called in many months, I feel no reserves about making him the subject of a stalking venture, because…well, you remember.

We arrived at Ruby Tuesday, which was closing at midnight, at about midnight, which meant we had somewhere between thirty minutes and an hour to wait.  During this time, we watched what may have been a drug deal, or at least, what might have been, if those two guys hadn’t been painfully aware of us driving around awkwardly and staring at them.  They stared at us right back, pointing and obviously talking about us.  Both sides were very confused as to the motives of the other.

His car was there; we recognized it and the license plate.  And we had the perfect stakeout position at the gas station next door.  First of all, there is no exit from Ruby Tuesday, which meant he would have to drive through the gas station.  But there was a row of shrubbery between the restaurant and the Gate, with one small opening, directly between his car and our spot.  So we had a clear view, but he did not.  And besides that, we had a completely different car this time (Monica was driving), and as it had been several months, he likely was not expecting to be followed again.

After about forty-five minutes, he appeared at his car, and the excitement really began.

I shall post Part 2 later.

Diagnucleosis

Some of this is old because I started writing it like two weeks ago and just haven’t felt like posting, so I’ll begin with that before I get to the current stuff….

While sitting here at the computer, I found a little list in my mom’s handwriting entitled, “[Sister]’s Prom”.  It has prices on it.  Apparently, these are all the amounts of money my parents spent on Psychobrat’s prom and expect to one day get back.  I am copying it here for your viewing pleasure.

dress – 252.00
nails – 53.00
hair – 60.00
make up – 44.00
Frederick’s of Hollywood – 64.20
purse – 17.12
trying to keep a spoiled brat happy for life – priceless  (Okay, I just threw that bit in there.)

total – $490.00

Now my main question is this:  What exactly did she get from Frederick’s of Hollywood that cost her more than everything else but the dress?  Perhaps more to the point, what did my parents purchase for her?  Be pondering that one; I sure am.

The Mormon and I watched Silent Hill, and every bit of it felt like one of my nightmares.   When I told The Mormon this, he said, “Wow…those must be some nightmares.”

I said, “Well, you know how my dreams go.  So when they’re bad…they’re bad.”

We were discussing the ending, and I said, “You see?  That’s exactly what I thought happened to me that night I took the wrong turn leaving your house.”

I have a few quotes that must be preserved.  The first is from the other night [now two weeks ago] at Jacksonville Alehouse, when Dennis was griping that neither Adrianna nor I had worn our glasses, and how much he generally liked putting glasses on:  “Maryann’s glasses are a kaleidoscope of truth.”

The following is the answer to the question, “What’s up?”, courtesy of Greg K-C at work:

“A perpendicular asymptotic plane to a parallel tangent plane to one point on the earth.  In other words, up to me is different than up to you.”

Being horrible at math, I have only the vaguest notion of what the above words mean.

These are a little older, from when Nicole and I were house-sitting.

First of all, I’d told Nicole that I had taken the house key to work with me one time in case we got locked out, but how I’d forgotten to first unlock the screen door, so it wouldn’t have done us any good anyway.

“That’s classic!” Nicole said.

“I’m a classy kind of gal,” I said.

“That’s a quote,” Nicole said.

And the other was from the night before, when we were trying to find something to go to sleep to, and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was playing.  There was some girl who looked vaguely familiar, and Nicole said, “At first I thought that was Sarah Michelle Gellar.”

I replied, “She does resemble her a bit.  That girl is like a Monet–if you squint, she’s Sarah Michelle Gellar.”

As it was, at that point, a little after 3 a.m., Nicole and I both found this comment insanely funny.

Now on with the current stuff.  I’ve been sick.  It started when we all went out to dinner to celebrate with some of our co-workers who were leaving.  Normally I’m too much of a germaphobe to eat after anyone, but that night I thought, ‘Eh…what the hell…they’re my friends!’

Well.  Adrianna is still getting over mono.  And that night we went to the Town Center after dinner, and I collapsed right in the middle of it.  We were just walking and then suddenly I felt like I couldn’t stand up anymore and I had to sit down in front of a store window and I thought they were going to have to carry me back to my car.

After eleven days of a sore throat, I finally went to the doctor for a mono diagnosis.

 

It perfectly explains why, when Nicole and I were house-sitting, I was having chills and was so sore and tired I could hardly move to even take a shower.  I will probably experience this lovely sensation many more times over the next month or however long it takes.  When my symptoms are finally gone (this usually lasts anywhere between two and six weeks), I could continue to experience bouts of this for months to come.  It is also advised that I get no exercise for the next few months, either, because the threat of rupturing my spleen and killing myself continues after the disease becomes dormant.  So there goes my whole get-physically-fit plan that I’d been all gung-ho about.

The only two times I remember somebody I know having mono:  This girl in fourth grade who missed six weeks of school, and another girl in high school who missed a month.

There goes the last break The Mormon and I were going to have together until next summer.

 

Slow Work Nights

I had a dream about The Mormon this morning.  We were lying on Mulder’s couch (because of this episode of The X-Files that Brother and I were watching last night) and he was kissing me (The Mormon was; Mulder wasn’t around), when he looked up over my head and said, “What was that?”

“What was what?” I said, and turned around–both in the dream and IRL.

What it was was the sodding sprinkler again; it had just turned on and was making its creepy, fingers-scraping-the-wall sound across the outside of the house, right behind my bed.

I sighed and closed my eyes, because I was so tired I couldn’t keep them open.  But even though I was that sleepy, the sound prevented me from falling back to sleep for quite a while, and I tossed and turned, thinking, “OMG ZOMBIES…no, it’s just the sprinkler…OMG ZOMBIES…no, it’s just the sprinkler” over and over, every time it went by my wall.

Finally I did manage to get back to sleep, but The Mormon had apparently, by that time, given up.

Tonight is my last night of work for the next six weeks.  I’m looking forward to it.  Then I start back up with both work and school…I’m finally officially enrolled at UNF (took long enough).

Yesterday was eventful.  First there was this academic achievement awards ceremony thing at FSCJ which I attended because The Mormon was receiving two:  One for Service as a Communications Tutor and the other for Sociology.  And then we had our party at Jax Ale House last night after dinner for Jose, Carolina, and Enrique, who are all leaving the cafe.

The cafe was so slow last night, and it’ll be even more so tonight.  Even though it’s a steak night, I’m not expecting even 100 customers.  I’ll take a book or something.

And after work we’re having our final Movie Night of the semester at–well, I’m assuming at Michelle’s.

Anyway.  I don’t feel like writing about dreams right now, so I’m going to close the entry here.

Situationally Ironic Jealousy

As I am determined not to get screwed over once again, I have just gotten through browsing the class schedules and making a list of all the classes that are available in my time slots.  There’s plenty–I should have no trouble registering for classes for this summer or autumn.  I also intend to know the registration dates for the duration of my time at UNF well in advance.

Of course, I don’t think there’s financial aid over the summer, so I will probably only be taking two or three classes, but it’s okay, because I’ll launch back into my normal four-classes-per-term come autumn.

Oh, one more thing, I suppose:  Milo is jealous of The Mormon.

Cortney told me when we were in Orlando that Milo, after having met The Mormon twice, declared that he doesn’t think he’s a very nice guy and he just doesn’t like him.

May I point out that, of the two times they had met, the first time they talked for about twenty minutes and were actually getting along quite well, and the second time, he saw The Mormon for about two minutes, one of which was spent kissing me.

So, with this knowledge, I finally remembered to tell Katie a couple weeks later–a couple weeks later, mind you–that Milo is jealous of The Mormon.

Katie said, “Oh, yeah, I spoke to him about two nights ago.”

“Did he mention it?” I said.

“Yeah, he said he met The Mormon and just wasn’t impressed by him.  He said, ‘I don’t see what’s so special about him.'”

That statement more than anything else gives it away.  And the fact that he’s still concerned about it two or three weeks later.

I think this is just about perfect.

Psychobrat and Spidermonkey are going to the prom tonight, so they aren’t in school today and will probably be coming in and out all day long.  Blah.

Oh, we have ice cream tomorrow at work.  Not looking forward to that one, but hopefully it’ll be rather slow.

I think that’s everything….

Paint Jeans, a Grievous Dream, and a Trip to a Frightening Dimension

I got new paint splotches on my paint jeans tonight–red and white ones.  This is very exciting for me, because it is my oldest pair of jeans, and they were starting to seem so old and tiresome, but now they will feel newish again.  The novelty is back.  I heart novelty.  Novelty is a great word and a great thing.

For anyone who’s wondering, the paint appeared when The Mormon (who is so extremely hot, by the way, and greater even than novelty) and I were painting his bookshelf.

The Mormon lives way out in the middle of nowhere where my GPS doesn’t work, and I left his house tonight at about 10:30, and as I was driving along, I was listening my voice messages.  All of a sudden, I noticed that the road seemed…different.  While it normally seems dark and empty, it was now even more so.  There was nothing on either side of me.  I kept driving, thinking I must have just been imagining things; the farther I went, however, the more it just felt wrong.  There was nothing, and I couldn’t escape that horrible feeling that I had somehow ended up in another dimension.  Now don’t get me wrong, finding myself in another dimension could be a really cool thing, but I think I have to add to my list of irrational fears that of accidentally ending up in some freaky dimension where all there is is a road that just keeps going and there’s nothing around, and it just keeps going and going forever with nothing and nobody to speak to.  This is what I thought had happened.  So I called The Mormon.  No answer.  Tried again.  Still no answer.

Okay, I thought, let’s just calm down and think about this rationally.  I knew I had made a right turn, so if the fault was mine, and not that of the multiverse, then it meant I’d just made the wrong right turn.  If I approached the huge Watson building, I would know that that was what I had done.

The huge Watson building appeared, and, assuming that it was the one I was thinking of and not an alternate-dimension Watson building (a Bizarro Watson building, if you will), I pulled into the parking lot and turned around.

Things were going fine, until I got it into my head that I had been driving for way too long and started freaking out again.  Where was the end of the road!?  And then I hit a dead armadillo and screamed very loudly.  But everything was fine a few minutes later when the end of the road finally made itself known, and I made the correct right turn and was on my way.  The Mormon finally called and explained that his cell phone was on vibrate and he had no idea it was ringing (although he was quite concerned when he saw I’d called three times, as he is well aware of my tendency to get lost).

That’ll teach me to check voice messages while driving.

Well, no, not really.  It’ll just remind me while I’m doing it that I shouldn’t be.  But I happen to enjoy getting scared.  Gryffindors convert fear into energy.

There are student elections going on on campus right now, and all across the green, there are these big wooden signs stuck in the ground that read:

ARE YOU IN GOOD HANDS?  VOTE ASSURANCE

We were joking about swapping the piece that read, “HANDS?” with the piece that read, “ASS” so that the sign would read:

ARE YOU IN GOOD ASS VOTE HANDS?URANCE

This was all going to take place in the middle of the night; it would have been great.  We could have gotten away with it.  Unfortunately, nobody else wanted to risk getting community service over spring break, so we didn’t do it.  It would have been such fun.   I was telling The Mormon about it, and I said, “We’re going to dress all in black, and wear ski masks–”

He interrupted me at this point, looking seriously concerned, and said, “Oh, don’t do that! That’s a capital offense.”

I laughed and punched his arm lightly.  “Don’t worry, I’m only joking,” I said innocently.  “We don’t own ski masks.”

I had this horrible tragic dream that Gary was going to die.  It seemed to be back in high school, because Ms. M. was there, as well as all the drama kids.  And Gary had won all these medals for acting and stuff, but they were all broken and laying in the dirt, and nobody really saw them there, but I saw them and reached over sadly to pick them up.  Ms. M. was just talking to us all, explaining what was wrong (I’m not really sure what was wrong) and how much longer he had (like a day).  It was so sad.

So I went inside to my locker, where Gary was at his locker right next to mine (Gary never had a locker right next to mine, but that doesn’t really matter, because the school looked nothing like ours, anyway).  He was pulling stuff out of it, and when I got there next to him, he said, “Hi, Ginny,” and I said, “Hi, Gary…so…I heard.”

“Yeah,” he said.  “Ginny…before I go, there’s something that I have to tell you.”

And then that was it.  I woke up.  I never found out what he was going to tell me.

I’m going to go and watch The X-Files with Brother.  He’s been waiting so patiently.