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Saturday, February 11, 2006 · posted at 9:52 PM

"And come to think of it your eyes are different. Hers weren't as dark as yours. Your hair's darker, too, of course. Actually you don't really look like her at all."
"Wow," I said, having long ago perfect the art of saying things in a tone that could be interpreted as genuine.
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Now, after all of this, Mr. Jolly wanted to talk. I considered telling my mother about him, having a laugh, but decided against it. Sometimes I kept important things from her so that later, when she discovered them, she'd be struck down by the feeling that she didn't really know the first thing about us, her very own children.
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Sometimes it seemed to me that our television was more of a person than an appliance. It was the best member of our family, the older sibling I'd always wanted - the bright one, the pretty one, the one who kept up with current events, the one who told all the jokes. We were happier when the television was there. When it wasn't - when we were in the car, at school, at Friendly's - things weren't the same between us. We fought. We drifted off into our own dull thoughts. We felt the smallenss of our lives.
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"These bracelets are real conversation starters!" she said. "You wouldn't believe how many people stop and ask me about mine. Every day someone asks!" I had seen this with my own eyes. My mother had developed a speech that explained the entired history of her life and she loved to give it, fingering each charm like a spokesmodel. She didn't seem to see the bracelet in the same way that I did, as a chain of abandoned dreams cobbled in miniature.
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It didn't take Teddy long to figure out that he could expand his repertoire, as our high school was a wasteland of embarassing afflictions.
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The gas station was a small birck building with its windows boarded up. Vandals had made their mark on the boards with spray paint. I WUZ HERE, someone had written. And, on another board: FUCK YOU. It seemed to me they had covered everything, written a history of the world in two sentences. This was pretty much all there was to say.

- Christie Hodgen, Hello, I Must Be Going



	Saturday, February 11, 2006 · posted at 9:52 PM "And come to think of it your eyes are different. Hers weren't as dark as yours. Your hair's darker, too, of course. Actually you don't really look like her at all." "Wow," I said, having long ago perfect the art of saying things in a tone that could be interpreted as genuine. ---------- Now, after all of this, Mr. Jolly wanted to talk. I considered telling my mother about him, having a laugh, but decided against it. Sometimes I kept important things from her so that later, when she discovered them, she'd be struck down by the feeling that she didn't really know the first thing about us, her very own children. ---------- Sometimes it seemed to me that our television was more of a person than an appliance. It was the best member of our family, the older sibling I'd always wanted - the bright one, the pretty one, the one who kept up with current events, the one who told all the jokes. We were happier when the television was there. When it wasn't - when we were in the car, at school, at Friendly's - things weren't the same between us. We fought. We drifted off into our own dull thoughts. We felt the smallenss of our lives. ---------- "These bracelets are real conversation starters!" she said. "You wouldn't believe how many people stop and ask me about mine. Every day someone asks!" I had seen this with my own eyes. My mother had developed a speech that explained the entired history of her life and she loved to give it, fingering each charm like a spokesmodel. She didn't seem to see the bracelet in the same way that I did, as a chain of abandoned dreams cobbled in miniature. ---------- It didn't take Teddy long to figure out that he could expand his repertoire, as our high school was a wasteland of embarassing afflictions. ---------- The gas station was a small birck building with its windows boarded up. Vandals had made their mark on the boards with spray paint. I WUZ HERE, someone had written. And, on another board: FUCK YOU. It seemed to me they had covered everything, written a history of the world in two sentences. This was pretty much all there was to say. - Christie Hodgen, Hello, I Must Be Going	Recent Posts Cringe - it's not just a reading at Freddy's Have ... Faith without FearAt an especially dark time, I as... Booty Nomad Something seemed off about her descrip... The Big HappyThere it was. My first composition bo... Generation MeOrdinary people can also find a taste... Miss American PieAbout the time I started being gr... Speak. I need a new friend. I need a friend, perio... Cinema Paradiso.Sooner or later a time comes when ... Year of the Dog. My favorite chapter books when I ... Grab on to Me Tightly as if I Knew the Way.Trudy a... Morning news babie goose ryan bluemouse daves son dawntaught desiree diorama emily escadawg galveric high entropy invisible cube jepgato kyellow lilly mhuang mogbert nudream starfish + coffee verbivore Archives March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 January 2007 March 2007 April 2007 November 2008

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