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.