Last night was a lazy night in alone for me and consisted of a lot of story writing, Top Chef, and a few movies that fall under our “Drama” section of our movie collection–the least watched collection of movies in our house, as I think they are only viewed by me, because I am the only person in this house that loves dramatic movies and actually doesn’t think sobbing through a movie is a bad thing. Last night I didn’t sob, though.
I was too busy considering the ways I may be forced to fight crime in my neighborhood. So there I was sometime around midnight, multitasking between Scent of Woman and keeping my right eye on my front yard, where the motion sensor light kept going off and giving me a heart attack, because yes, I am 30 and afraid of the dark and kidnapping, German, knife toting intruders, surely the only thing that sets off motion sensors. So first it was the light, then it was shrieking and then it was gunfire and by gunfire, I mean fireworks. Then more shrieking and then my bushes started to move and jesus fuckme christ, I knew what was going on. Those goddamned kids that spend their days smacking tennis balls off walls in front of my house were trying to blow up my mailbox again with fireworks. I flew off the couch and quickly considered grabbing something scary looking off the knife rack but instead let the two killers out the front door and just yelled loudly, hoping no one actually jumped back at me from the bushes.
No intruder. Just rowdy, loud kids, yelling obscenities at me that I don’t understand, running away fast as the sidewalk pop, pop, popped with little fireworks they had dropped to the ground. I wanted to assault them. I considered chasing them for two seconds but then remembered I hate running and it’s really not worth chasing a bunch of 16 year olds hopped up on German adrenaline from their big, 3rd place win. Congrats, Germany. You’re not number one, but at least you’re something.
So there was that. I also did some writing and browsed a bunch of blogs to see what other people were writing about. In stalking other bloggers, I cam across this website and it fascinated me.
Smith Magazine, some online magazine I had never heard of, is featuring this brilliant concept of creating your own six word memoir. As memoir’s biggest fan, I am in love. I could read these forever. It’s fascinating to read how people wish for the world to see them, or maybe just how they see themselves. http://www.smithmag.net/sixwords This is jump up and down on the couch with happiness good stuff.