| chicken bar and DD girlfriendshttp://www.springerlink.com/content/q2531833802h3337/fulltext.pdf Twenty minutes ago I thought I had lost my “kiwi gator” planner. (I like Chris’ words to describe it) Well I almost burst out crying and I was screaming. My mom said look in your room carefully and for the fifth time I did, and found the poor thing camouflaged with the floor title underneath my bed. I kissed it right away after retrieving it. I don’t care about germs; I love my planner that much. Without a planner, I’d feel flibbertigibbet-ish. (I think I am using the right choice of word because I remember laughing about this word with Win on the phone. It means, unsteady, rickety, or trembling.) Anyway, Today was supposed to be the billiards day, but it became our (Chris, ikea and me) …super blubber awesome Dunkin Donut girlfriend day…. The story goes… Uhem had a blind date with an Asian chick at Hunter. I’d hate to be called that, but I am jealous, and therefore I’d rather assault his date to relieve some inner pain than be nice and accept her presence. I’m sad not because he gets to go on a date with an Asian-chick-from-Hunter because I don’t go that way, but it’s the fact that he has a date now, and may soon forget me. He won’t have the time to chill with Jak and me and his precious friends anymore, and then sooner or later, jak will find his date and I…well, poor little Jenny. That is the deal with guy friends and god brothers…or is it? Xes is better than friendship to a male right? Well, I wish him the best. So after dumb Math class, chris, ikea and I planned to go pool. We found stev and ate lunch together. Sitting in the Chicken Bar felt like a scene from a James Dean movie…except with more Mexican and Chinese people and crappy chairs. Stev’s new hair cut is really handsome, but he will fail to believe it. Ha, then we walked back to Hunter. I finally know the advisor’s name and hope I’ll be partially exempt for Chinese and Italian. Ikea checked the billiard places in Manhattan and saw this Fat Cat place. She read the description to me, “cheap and safe pool place in Manhattan,” (you shall soon see the irony) and we decided to go there. So Chris, Ikea and I took the V to West 4th, and walked over to 7th Ave South. Since I haven’t been to 1 train Christopher Street for a long time, I was surprised to see so many sex shops. Then we found Fat Cat on the opposite street. I started to have doubts going, and linked arms with Chris. We saw the New York Fetish shop with the hookie boobies, sexy police customers and…was that a creamy colored leather belt for whipping? Anyway right opposite was Fat Cat. Ikea walked over and before I started complaining, she said, “Oh Shit, it’s closed.” Inwardly I gave a sigh of relief. I don’t feel like going pool without a guy because whenever my father goes, I can just imagine a bunch of mid-age hairy man playing pool in the place, a place vile for teenage girls, and so a movie is played in my unconscious; Freud was almost right. So, Chris and I made it over this time, and I read the signs covering the door. Someone was apparently shot there that’s actually why it’s closed. The Irony you see is that Ikea and I read online that it was a “cheap and safe place…” Uh Huh. Indeed. So what do we do? We jumped into the DD shop for rest. Chris got a white hot chocolate which tasted mad good. Ikea was a bit disappointed a first, shown her frown and everything, but we just continued to talk and dig in depth in the conversation. We observed the scene across the street. With the truck that was unloading more sex toys before New York Fetish gone, we saw the... (Was that a hotel?) Climaxx place. We joked, “Yup, you go to NY Fetish to buy fun and achieve the purpose at the hotel next door.” HAHA. Chris, Ikea and I ended up staying at DD for four hours. I mostly just sat on my asses in a twirled position; at least those two got up to buy bagel with cream cheese. Yup, that’s how we spent our afternoon; talking and laughing like more than maniacs. The man in there had to tell us, “Girls will you keep your voices down?” We annoyed the hell outta the Donut workers probably. LaLa. I am jolly. I still want a boyfriend, but I won’t go “hunting” anytime soon, or “be fished” anytime soon. Yeah, there’s our sophisticated phrase…ha-ha (Chris) I won’t a guy’s bait and submit to mediocre teenage love. I know I am a teenager, and I want to be loved, but…it just doesn’t feel right to be his trophy candy or him my teddy bear. There should be more substance in the relationship; definitely not marriage but you know…conversations, companionship, bond, and trust…and chemical reaction. =] Maybe like the narrator’s love for Louise in Written on the Body. Whoa, what an exceptional work. I can’t summarize, or rephrase how the narrator described his/her relationships and love and sex, but it felt like I could believe in unicorns after reading this book. The powerful use of imagery, face bloated like gerbil, “she opens and shuts like a sea anemone”…and I just knew this person had great sex. Sex, love, relationships, displacement, void, redemption… I love what I’ve been reading. Such beautiful literature, and then there’s such pensive questions and commentaries posed by the narrator/the author. “Contentment is a feeling you say? Are you sure it’s not an absence of feeling?” “don’t mix the heart with the liver.” “Written on the body is a secret code only visible in certain lights; the accumulations of a lifetime gather there…I didn’t know that Louise would have reading hands. She has translated me into her own book.” Anyway…besides the narrator’s wanton lifestyle and the obfuscation of the gender, a very sensual, brilliant and lovely little book. |
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