First Line

I want to write a story. Short or novel, I'm not sure, yet. Here is the first line:

Eveline was twelve years old when she walked in on Big Brother and Blonde Girl doing it on the old ratty couch in the basement.

I wonder where it'll go... Thoughts?

A Veggie Burger With Bacon

"I can well imagine an atheist's last words: 'White, white! L-L-Love! My God!'-and the deathbed leap of faith." --Pi Patel

There was no leap of faith. No flash of life before my eyes. There was light, though. A lot of light.

But I guess I'll start from the beginning. After all, I'm trying to make an exciting blog post based on just moments of action.

I saw Scott Pilgrim tonight, which may have been one of the better movies I've seen lately. It was deliciously geeky and absolutely fun. Interestingly, there was a little boy sitting in front of me with a hat seven times larger than his head. I'm not sure if he ever did see the movie...

Had a short dinner at Chili's afterward. Noticed that The Boyfriend was still wearing his pants from when we were doing spackling/painting in the basement. It reminded me of that commercial "guys have there own way of freshening up, and we have ours..." I seriously need to steal those pants and burn them. Or at least stitch up the huge hole in the ass. And the groin. And the knee. And the pocket. And the other knee. And the - Oh fuck it, they're getting burned.

I want to complain about how cold it was at Chili's and how it took the waitress to long to seat us, but it seems petty now.

After dinner, we went to my house to install my cable box while waiting for my mother to return home. You see, today is her birthday. Unfortunately, she had to work all day and put down one of our horses. I told her we'll rain-check her birthday and celebrate it on a proper day. A day that doesn't suck. Or at least a day that is painfully average.

Comcast still sucks. Nothing new there. No cable. Still.

Every Sunday, I join a friend of mine at her apartment for True Blood. I'll have to tell a story about her cats at a later point... I think one of them is a robot. Well, anyway....

I guess the whole point of this post is not about my dinner or the movie or even the fantastic episode of True Blood. Tonight, I almost died.

The Boyfriend was driving us south on a very well-traveled four lane road. If you're in the area, you know the one. As we are driving, I realize that the two lights in front of us are unusually bright for taillights. In fact, they're most certainly headlights. And they're moving. Towards us.

"WHOA! WHOAWHOAWHOA!"

I didn't know what to do! I had no idea if there was anything to do! Were we in the wrong? We were most certainly on the right side of the road! Perhaps we have switched to British traffic rules for the weekend and somehow I didn't get that memo!

So The Boyfriend begins to frantically honk at this little dark-colored pickup truck. It doesn't slow down. We're slamming on the gas. I'm wondering if I'm going to die without having accomplished something amazing on the same day that my mother lost a horse - a horse and a daughter in the same day? No, that's just cruel!

With the end in sight and this vehicle still plowing right for us, something even more unusual happened. He swerved. Into and over the median. Back to his side of the road.

...

Did that just happen?

Am I dreaming?

Hullucinating?

Does this shit really happen to people?

Our hearts were racing as we pulled up to the light and stopped. A car pulled up next to us and some goofy gentleman, who I am certain has too much money looks at us.

"Hey, head's up! That guy sure was crazy, huh?"

...

Yes.

He was crazy.

Thank you for clearing that up.