bored
she was bored.
the few people she could talk to had nothing to say. this resulted in hours worth of phone calls in which she felt obligated to continue providing topics of conversation, especially when the other person fell silent. each time it took her quite a while to realise that she was effectively doing that thing she calls "chattering mindlessly", like so many insipid women do, and the other person was simply obliging her. she felt vaguely embarrassed, and then remembered that the other party always has the option of terminating the conversation. she accepted this, terminated the conversation, and wiped the makeup off of her cell phone, each time wondering if either she or the other person had benefited from the call. she doubted it. and she felt worse off.
disappointed by the phone (she never was a phone person, anyway), she turned to the computer. other than the usual spams, her e-mail held nothing. while checking her five different accounts, a couple of times her phone alarmed that she had received text messages wishing her a happy holiday. interesting that it didn't deserve an e-mail anymore-- just a text message. actually, it was not interesting. it was boring.
she absentmindedly chewed a lock of hair (a disgusting habit, if you asked me, which you did not. why do people chew on things?) as she turned to blogs. she had joined the blogwagon back when it was popular, and she holds those who have fallen off in disdain. she made note that anyone who had started dating was capable of blogging only about dating, and that was boring in the worst way, or they had stopped blogging because they had found in dating something else to do. she looked at the card her boring boyfriend had sent (the same christmas card he sent everyone, she noted) and shrugged.
and that was it. she was so bored by others she was forced to turn inward and start working on improving her own life. she tried to think of some unique new year's resolutions.
she got bored with that. she called me.
i was cleaning my fridge and kitchen at the time. "why?" she asked. i answered, "because it was dirty. and i'd otherwise be bored, because i'm not allowing myself to do anything 'til my place is clean." she painted her toenails and leafed through shopping catalogs while we talked about holiday brunches, pop music, lotion, the doggie-in-the-handbag phenomenon (we share disapproval), the color pink, words that are overused or used incorrectly, how beautiful we each think the other is, and men. so we talked about nothing, really.
you can talk with me about nothing any time, dear. i just hope mine was a conversation after which you feel better off.
she did say it was okay that i blog about her. it would give her something to read.
the few people she could talk to had nothing to say. this resulted in hours worth of phone calls in which she felt obligated to continue providing topics of conversation, especially when the other person fell silent. each time it took her quite a while to realise that she was effectively doing that thing she calls "chattering mindlessly", like so many insipid women do, and the other person was simply obliging her. she felt vaguely embarrassed, and then remembered that the other party always has the option of terminating the conversation. she accepted this, terminated the conversation, and wiped the makeup off of her cell phone, each time wondering if either she or the other person had benefited from the call. she doubted it. and she felt worse off.
disappointed by the phone (she never was a phone person, anyway), she turned to the computer. other than the usual spams, her e-mail held nothing. while checking her five different accounts, a couple of times her phone alarmed that she had received text messages wishing her a happy holiday. interesting that it didn't deserve an e-mail anymore-- just a text message. actually, it was not interesting. it was boring.
she absentmindedly chewed a lock of hair (a disgusting habit, if you asked me, which you did not. why do people chew on things?) as she turned to blogs. she had joined the blogwagon back when it was popular, and she holds those who have fallen off in disdain. she made note that anyone who had started dating was capable of blogging only about dating, and that was boring in the worst way, or they had stopped blogging because they had found in dating something else to do. she looked at the card her boring boyfriend had sent (the same christmas card he sent everyone, she noted) and shrugged.
and that was it. she was so bored by others she was forced to turn inward and start working on improving her own life. she tried to think of some unique new year's resolutions.
she got bored with that. she called me.
i was cleaning my fridge and kitchen at the time. "why?" she asked. i answered, "because it was dirty. and i'd otherwise be bored, because i'm not allowing myself to do anything 'til my place is clean." she painted her toenails and leafed through shopping catalogs while we talked about holiday brunches, pop music, lotion, the doggie-in-the-handbag phenomenon (we share disapproval), the color pink, words that are overused or used incorrectly, how beautiful we each think the other is, and men. so we talked about nothing, really.
you can talk with me about nothing any time, dear. i just hope mine was a conversation after which you feel better off.
she did say it was okay that i blog about her. it would give her something to read.
posted by CamoBunny at 23:17
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