The Shooting Star He Saw

Let's try to get a lot covered in a short amount of time.

In my life, I've seen an episode and a half of Gundam Wing. This does not effect the fact that when, in what I've dubbed the "Traveling Bus Incident", I lost forever my copy of Endless Waltz, the feature movie, which was all I knew of the series.

The as-yet-mystery girl at work shot a star through the heavens tonight when she remarked off-hand that, come Valentine's Day, her boy will be, quote, "Long gone." Granted, I caught only this small piece of what I'm sure is a contextual disappointment. Still, one smiles, doesn't one?

"This Tornado Loves You," one of my new favorite songs, came on the Chain's radio shortly thereafter, renewing my faith in the people paid to find the new music partly responsible for the contemporary, upbeat atmosphere our customers ABSOLUTELY WANT to bathe in. Yes, it's sarcasm.

Also, Verde scores the laugh of the day, maybe the week. Around attractive coworkers I am obliged, while distributing silverware, to present a particular instrument and ask, point blank, "Wanna fork?" To which she answered, quite unexpectedly, "No thanks, I'm full." Perfect, perfect. Spike Mulligan is satisfied.

Resurrected some old poetry and a short story that could potentially place my mind, Where is my mind?, among the celebrated ranks of Lewis Carrol's madness. I'm a little sleep deprived, which probably contributed to my appreciation of the works, but perhaps I'll polish them off and throw them up here, for any body's future...well, whatever. When I'm taking shortcuts I remember the shortcuts I took, and things I did on purpose before are only emphasized now. I remember reading the poetry on a well-rested afternoon and writing it off.

Katharine did not ask me out to the bar tonight, because she went home with her once-again-not-ex. I had a small crush on Katharine--you can read about her back in November. If I had done something about it, I might have spared her another bout of heartbreak or two. Or not. You never know. What I am saying is that the opportunity for Lovely and I to repeat Katharine's now classic example is past, for a fairly specific reason.

The Shooting Star He Saw. I don't want to reach up and touch that star, I'm happy basking in it's warm, friendly glow. But that doesn't mean I don't entertain the thought of taking aim and overextending myself, you know.