paperback writer
hold a camera up to life

the oddest feeling in the world is that of enjoying the company of someone you are well aware you will never see again.

i went to my class-for-drivers-who-suck today.. all the way up in waldorf, "a trip and a half," as exclaimed by justin, who i will mention in a line or so. it was snowing and cold and miserable and i was not looking forward to a repeat of the mind-bendingly hellish boredom that was driver's ed.

after some ironically risqu� driving on the part of the madre and standing out in the cold knocking at the wrong door for fifteen minutes or so, i strolled in late and took a seat at the back of the small, sparsely populated room. i had no intention of speaking to anyone or doing anything but slogging through the material and passing the disproportionate ten and twenty-question tests after two and four hours of lecture, respectively.

but, for some reason or another, the guy to the left of me and i started talking, or rather, muttering under our breaths back and forth as the teacher ran through tangent after tangent.

after today i know:
-his first name (the aforementioned justin)
-his current school
-his school next year
-he grew up in hawaii
-we spent six hours talking and doodling and making bets about how many pages were in the book the teacher was following page by page(63... i ultimately guessed 80 and he 83... my prize was the satisfaction of winning. and i was content with that.)

by the tail-end of class, the teacher was regularly asking us if we were paying attention, and we would respond by showing her our notes, peppered with doodles and page-counting as they were.

but soon the six hours was up and the final twenty-question test was distributed. we answered, we passed, and we were done. i borrowed his cellphone to call my mother to tell her it was over and i needed picking up, and when she came i waved goodbye and smiled, and didn't look back.

as i was gathering my things to go i felt i should say something... nice meeting you? see you around? keep in touch?
there was nothing to say but goodbye.

so why did we bother with making a connection in the first place? what was the point of talking, sharing jokes, giving advice? (he told me to enjoy my senior year, i sighed and told him i'd try)

why, when i was planning on making the trek in the snow next door to checker's for lunch, did another classmate not only offer to drive me but asked me questions about myself and shared details of his own life?
what purpose does it serve me to know he's looking forward to his son being 18 so he can see him without a court battle, or him to know i want to major in theater and english but don't know where i want to do it?

there is none.

those six hours were suspended moments in time where the afterwards did not matter. we all had a common goal and a common obstacle to overcome in order to reach that goal.

justin and i shared a sense of humor and overall impatience with the pace of class. my other classmate and i shared a similar craving for checker's and to be our own boss in life. justin, another girl and i were about the same age. it was these small things in common that brought us together as people, even if only temporarily.

i vaguely wondered, as we drove away this afternoon, if these people will, like me, ever think of me or their other classmates and wonder where they are and what they did with themselves.. and if i'm the only one who dwells on past moments and people in my life like i do.

i certainly hope not. fond memories are what keep my faith in people alive.


p.s. i realize i have not updated on the following:

will hoge/edwin mccain/yet another contract signed in metaphorical blood
the show!!!
^also ihop
pittsburgh and family and the like
the cast party
how much i still hate college (or rather, the getting in process)

and you may ask me about any or all at any point in your life... though i should write them down as that's what i do. i write. and they should be chronicled as being fantab (for the most part) points in my life...
especially considering the unnerving amount of ANGST settling around all our ankles like a fog with the staying power of a cockroach... almost entirely due to the last item on my list.


snatch of conversation leaving the last samurai:

me: i hate war movies. i hate war movies so much... because i always leave them hating humanity.
joel: yeah, you're thinking, "imperialist american bastards"
me: it's not so much the imperialist american bastards.. it's the humanity part i don't like. if i have to be human, i'd rather be american.. i just hate being human to begin with.


it snowed!!! a lot!!! wow. maybe i'll finally get my white christmas.
of course, now i've jynxed myself and the weather will slam us with a heat wave for no other reason than spite.

but that's fine too. i hate the cold.

The current mood of bratnatch at
FIN. 1:37 a.m., Sunday, Dec. 07, 2003

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A work in Aberration.