I just stood outside, in the cold, holding a load of very heavy books, for 20+ minutes to listen to a very eager lady go on about da good Lord and da great Jesus and da little-known she-God (aka The Holy Mother). I would’ve ignored her, but when she stopped me I thought she was asking for directions. And I’ve always felt bad for these “haveyoumetJesus”-ers. They’re like the people outside Albertson’s asking for donations for the orphans, except annoyingly religious and they’re asking for your soul, not money.
Anyways. Her breath stank. I better be getting some good presents this year.
Once there was a tiny Asian grandma. She wore baggy grandma pants and a baggy grandma shirt and a white grandma hat. She came to the playground by herself, without a grandson or granddaughter, no tiny person hanging onto her hand as her pass to the playground. I scanned the area, looking for some little Asian boy or girl she had come to claim, but instead, she plopped down on a swing and swung. She swung and swung, by herself, for a good 20 minutes, with other people’s laughing children running by her. When she got her fill of swinging, she went home, by herself.
College apps, research for my internship at JIE, journal/schedule for internship #2, AP government homework, papers to file for my mom, emails to send out, and a million side-errands I need to run. Busiest I’ve ever been during the summer, except I’m not really busy cus I’m not really working on any of it… and school starts in a few weeks, aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
"Once upon a time, New York City had a sixth borough.
"The Sixth Borough was also an island, separated from Manhattan by a thin body of water whose narrowest crossing happened to equal the world’s long jump record, such that exactly one person on earth could go from Manhattan to the Sixth Borough without getting wet. A huge party was made of the yearly leap. Bagels were strung from island to island on special spaghetti, samosas were bowled at baguettes, Greek salads were thrown like confetti. The children of New York captured fireflies in glass jars, which they floated between the boroughs.. The fireflies would flicker rapidly for their last few minutes of life. If it was timed right, the river shimmered as the jumper crossed it.