Last night I found two things from my past: A list of things that I planned to accomplish in life circa my 16th birthday, and a poem I wrote freshman year in college. Naturally, I decided to post both.
The New Year
I was embarrassed when my phone rang
as we were paying for the motel room.
I fumbled in my pockets wondering
why I was concerned with this woman's
opinion of my ringtone as I stood next to
a boy saying “just one night”.
I had waited three years to ride in his Jeep.
She and I had scanned the parking lot,
awaiting its arrival every weekend.
And now I saw the empty cigarette packs,
video game cases, and the tiny stuffed
frog that scattered themselves about,
decorating his dashboard.
It was more than a game for me but
I still enjoyed playing and when
the time would come to confess,
I would lie.
And she wasn't here to look for the
blue moon through the clouds and
she wouldn't be taking a shot of rum from
the strange man in the room next door
at midnight and talking about convenient stores
with strategically placed gift shops that
reek of pink and red.
But I was there to tuck him in when
he started to panic and I was the one
taking a drag off of his cigarette and I
made sure he put on his sweatshirt before
going out into the cold but I
never had any interest.
"Life List"
1. Lose 60 pounds - Sorry, kiddo. Don't think that one's going to happen.
2. Forgive My Dad - Eh. I've started to, I suppose.
3. Learn Russian - I switched to German!
4. Get Bellybutton Pierced - Check.
5. Dye Hair Red - Check. Preferred the natural, obviously.
6. Start living instead of just existing - I think I do this as much as I possibly can while not stumbling further and further into debt.
7. Be in Maxim Magazine - I had unbelievably high standards for myself, clearly. I prefer self respect at this point...
8. Do the Splits - Fail.
9. Go on a road trip with no predetermined destination - And that's how Allibeth and I ended up in Canada!
10. Watch imdb's 100 worst movies - I still think this is a good plan. Who's with me?
First off, I'd totally watch the 100 worst movies too.
ReplyDeleteI actually enjoyed the poem quite a bit. It seems to sum up this disenchantment with the romantic dreams of youth (especially when it's put next to a list of 16-year-old dreams for yourself), because the girl finally gets the guy she has longed for for 3 years. She now sees the tiny details of the interior of his Jeep that she had fantasized about before as some kind of white horse upon which her shining knight rode.
But now that the narrator has gotten the guy, she seems almost disinterested. Because the reality can never match the fantasy. The guy seems weak, while the narrator is merely cruising along the surface of life, taking a drag from a cigarette while she watches her good-looking but ultimately spiritually empty boyfriend sleep. Am I to believe that the two females in the story are two versions of the same person?