I want an ipod so badly..

I am trying my best not to just cave and buy one, especially since I am not the person who sits around listening to music. When I am listening to music it is because I need a little bit of detachment, or because a soundtrack just seems appropriate. When I'm on the bus or cleaning house- there's always something on. But in the mall? At dinner? During school? Those are times when I need to be aware. My special place could get severely jostled if I'm looking inward when I should be noticing the runaway kiosk heading down the escalator straight for me.
Speaking of dinner, I don't know how many people have the traditional sit-down meal anymore. Growing up it was not a rarity to miss dinner- but it was at least for a special reason. Despite the attendance requirement there really wasn't (isn't) any semblance of proper family time. Dinner is sitting with nearly everyone (someone is always out of their seat getting milk, ketchup, salt, or whatever) and the radio blasting and the tv humming in the background. Before we begin, or sometimes in the middle if we realize it's been forgotten, someone has to say grace. Unless it's my mother speaking, (standing, not sitting, because she is ready to bolt for the salt/milk/ketchup/whatever) the the grace is short. Ten or fifteen minutes after the radio program's commercial break when we said the blessing, everyone is finished. Table deserted, food half-eaten, like the Aslan's table. The Metaphor continues, because not long after the tupperware is filled, the kitchen-trolling begins and the leftovers are picked over before they are even cold.
Further related to dinner, though not mine and far less enjoyable. To-day I got to work nearly exactly on time and in a good mood. The birds were singing and the sun was out but not too warm. When I got out of the car I heard a chip-chip-chip that seemed like a bird. There's a marshy preserve directly alongside our parking lot and I've always liked to look at it before ducking into the dark cavern of retail. There was something a bit off about the chirping though, and I thought the bird might be hurt or maybe I was lucky enough to have noticed a nest. I walked to the edge of the marsh (tick-tock, about to be late) and saw what I thought was a bit of hose. Then a squirrel making an odd face. (tick-tock-tick...) I hate the litter that is everywhere, moreso even because it is mostly ciggarette butts that create a sickening carpet on what was once a very nice oasis in shoppingland. (tock-tick-tock, oh my) But that was not the kind of sound a squirrel should ever make. Not even a foot from my feet there was a snake twisted around the tiny thing. It's face was shocked and towards me, lifted a little, still crying.
I paused, wanting to grab a stick and pull the snake away. Hours of The Crocodile Hunter made me toy with the idea of reaching for its tail. Finally I ran inside, a little late, and tried to be composed. I tried to tell the other cashier what I'd seen and couldn't. "There was a snake eating a squirrel out there" "wow, was it putting it in it's mouth? ... actually that's kindof sad." I nodded, and went to the bathroom because I couldn't stay there. I'm still crying now. And some people have asked why I couldn't be a vet...
On a lighter side, I really wish I had thought to date a book every time I read it. I don't like writing on/in/near books, but that would've been awesome. Also I wish that I had read Salinger years ago, if Sarah Brown's wisdom holds true.

-- G 'Bye, Sonya --

. ( 27.5.05 ) .