Life as a Pariah

Since it has been a while since I have posted or even been around, perhaps I should explain. I think I have been sick for about a month now. First I had regular old sinus problems, and then the flu attacked me, only to ebb away into sinus problems again. Now, I apparently have strep throat.

I cannot remember the last time I had the flu. Aside from being born with a strep bacterium, I have never had strep throat. Needless to say, I am not really sure how to deal with these things and have spent a lot of time on the phone with my mom and sister in the past few weeks.

My friends have been good. One even brought me popsicles last night. He and my roommates are about the only ones who have not treated me like a leper or social pariah. Honestly, my friends and (especially) my roommates are the ones who should be most afraid of catching whatever ails me! I got some penicillin yesterday and feel better already, but my co-workers look at me like I am Satan reincarnated for coming to work! I am not contagious anymore! Especially since I do not plan on sharing fluids with any of them.

Any way, I still feel bad for being here in case I might give someone else something. So, I guess I should go home. I am far to exhausted to argue or reason with them anyway.

Paradise and The Pit

The street on which I grew up dead ends into a small body of water the owner named "Paradise Pond." The rest of us call it "The Pit."

The Pit was to my childhood what the old abandoned house and creepy cat lady are to more notorious childhood legends. According to neighborhood lore, the owner barred the entrance to automobiles a few decades ago after three drunken teenagers drove themselves down our road, making The Pit their own personal graveyard.

Stories like this one and rumors about drug deals and satanic rituals made The Pit off-limits to us kids, unless I was walking the dogs. Of course, making it off-limits also made it our favorite place to hang out. My friends and I spent many afternoons and weekends exploring The Pit and its surrounding marshland swamp. A few of our favorite hangouts were The Wall, a rusty, abandoned crane and a little fort we made in the nest of some hills.

The Wall was just that; a rugged cement remnant of some long-forsaken building covered with graffiti and over run with trees and weeds. In retrospect, it sort of reminds me of the Graffiti Bridge in Purple Rain. The wall is where the "big kids" hung out and where the drug and satanic action supposedly took place, so it was specifically off-limits. Although it was generally strewn with beer cans and cigarette butts, I have only one memory of seeing a bunch of trashed teens standing around a fire at The Wall and they didn't seem to be offering any sacrifices to me.

The crane wasn't really in The Pit, but in the marshy swampland on its outskirts. Every once in a while we sought out a dry trail through the reeds and spent hours climbing in and around the crane. Others might have seen it as an unsightly wreck or a case of tetanus waiting to happen, but to us, it was our very iron-oxidized fortress of solitude, moat included. Sometimes we would even bring a boom box and a picnic out there to make a day of it.

Our most secluded place, however, was a nest in the crown of a few hills, hidden from the prying eyes of the nearby trail. Here my friends and I would nestle down in the long, dry grass and share our lives. We would twitter about boys and vent about family. We would divulge our personal stories and unfurl our dreams of growing up and getting away.

Lately I dream less frequently of growing up and more frequently of getting away. However, the more I dream of getting away, the more I realize I have no stable place from which to take off. I have no crumbling wall of graffiti, no rusted fortress, no batted nest from which to take flight. The more I dream of getting away, the more I long for a take-off point. Perhaps, while in a state of growth, we dream of leaving the nest, yet in a state of being grown, it is the flight we dream of leaving behind.

Answers

1. Linger~ The Cranberries
2. Trouble~ Shawn Colvin
3. Fast Car~ Tracy Chapman
4. Nobody's Cryin'~ Patty Griffin
5. Poughkepsie~ Over the Rhine
6. On Fire~ Switchfoot
7. Oh My Sweet Carolina~ Ryan Adams
8. Title and Registration~ Death Cab for Cutie
9. Love Songs~ Fleming and John
10. When You Come Back Down~ Nickel Creek

Lyrics Quiz

So, I've been wanting to do this for a while, but someone said I need some tougher lyrics... so, here are 10. Give me artist and title.

1. "If you, if you could get by, trying not to lie, things wouldn't be so confused."
2. "You don't have to drag me down, I descend."
3. "He says his body's too old for working. His body's too young to look like his."
4. "He jumps in a taxi for the sky. He's off to slay some demon dragon fly."
5. "There are those who know sorrow and those who must borrow and those whose lot in life is sweet."
6. "I'm standing on the edge of everything I've never been before."
7. "All the sweetest winds, they blow across the South."
8. "'Cause behind its door, there's nothing to keep my fingers warm."
9. "Paint me a picture with images blurred, so I can see what I want to see."
10. "I'll be the other hand that always holds the line connecting inbetween your sweet heart and mine."

Go.

An Interview from Myles

Suzanne has a new game, called the interview, in which you get asked five questions, which you then have to post both questions and answers to your blog. And so, in an effort to detox from a half hour of the Inquisition and to satisfy Suzanne, the interview...
Here are the official rules of her interview game:
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
6. I will answer reasonable follow up questions if you leave a comment.

1) When given the chance to have veggies or meat, which do you choose? Does your stomach suffer from eating so much meat?

I would choose meat. I like it. yum. No, my stomach doesn't suffer from eating meat. You miss it, don't you little veggie friend? (although I do admit I like a good salad... though I'd probably have it with chicken)

2) When was the last time you passed gas in public and didn't claim it?

hmmm... that's a difficult one. I think I was gassy in Atlanta a few weeks ago, but I think I told my friends. No, I'm not going to tell complete strangers.

3) You're on a desert island with one book. What is it? No, it can't be the Bible.

I'd want an ibook with connection so I could get off the island... MJ had a good one with 1,001 Ways to Survive on a Desert Island but since he picked that I think I might have to be a typical geek and say Lord of the Rings. I know it's marketed in 3 volumes, but it's really all one book.

4) Which comic strip character is dying to get killed off? How do they die?

gah. I only read one comic and I don't want any of them to die! so, um... one of the cavemen in that prehistoric comic gets eaten by a sabertooth tiger... yeah.

5) Fill in the blank: I feel most guilty being alive when I see (blank).

I feel most guilty being alive when I see statistics on how many people die of disease and starvation a week (as many as a tsunami a week) and am throwing away my leftovers or buying a new lipstick.