Ade (agentfroot) wrote,

  • Mood:

You can ignore this if you want. I'm just using this as storage space for random ideas.

Even clicking around his web page, she knew she loved him. The torn edges of his high school collages, the flashing gifs, the lonely aching creeping through old, slightly cheesy poetry. "Update more often," she thought.

He walked into Barnes and Noble on Thursday afternoon, and his old girlfriend's novel glared at him from the Bestsellers shelf. "I bet she made me the villain and changed the name," he thought. Still, he felt pride swell in the back of his throat and thought about calling her up, asking for an autographed copy. She'd remember him. How could she forget?

Joe's roommates found him under a pile of words. His body was fine, but his mind had shattered.

I want to go to Hawaii NOW, dammit! Or at least somewhere with culture. Everybody writes about America. I want to go somewhere interesting, somewhere that hasn't consumed my life. On the other hand, traveling makes me nervous. Or, as Hedwig says, "travel exhausts me." But there are interesting things here too. Like in Vermont. Barn Rock Harbor, the old willow behind Knight and Mary Jane's stone house, the farm down the road with the fierce smell of Holsteins and the fields of cattle corn, wandering around Button Island among the ruins of the old house the hippies burned down, slicing my palms and heels on those damn zebra mussels, the Adirondack chairs, the upper class New Englanders at Basin Harbor Club, Emma used to love Wilden, "At Wilden, Welcome Ever Smiles and Farewell Goes Out Sighing," Don Willard's old boat (The Dolphin), fishing with Uncle Jon at sunrise, frolicking in the bushes with Erin and Matt and sometimes the other kids when we were younger, wearing our bright pink shorts and flip flops, the pictures from when Elizabeth and Caroline and Jason and Allison and other family friends stayed at the lake, lobster cookouts with the Willards and Macks, lots of old ladies in their gaudy jewelry, my Nana's friends, the pink and blue armchairs, evening walks with my mom and Nana and sometimes my sister or aunts or other relatives, jumping on the trampoline at the Rising's until dark even though the girls basically ignored me, some kid asking if I wanted a whittled stick when I'd rather whittle the stick myself, driving the boat over to Westport Marina for gas and food and a trip to the gift shop, getting my first bra at Fishman's (which no longer exists), band concerts in Vergennes, Liz's store, Jon and Kathleen kidnapping me and taking me to the aquarium (that was Vermont, right?), Pop Pop wearing the inflatable boat as a hat, my "clam sanctuary," coughing and sputtering for air after clam-diving, building boats and scuba diving at the pool during those museum classes, Champ's chips (they're terrible), the summer Heather came with us and all the adventures, biking to the Harbor store, some kid asking me out and planning to stand me up because the kids were mean to me that summer (I knew he was lying), dancing with Uncle Clarke at the Harbor Club, etc.

Whoah, that was a huge list. I want to write about Vermont now. Hey, finals coming up. Bah. I still have time to write. There's always time to write.

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