burger and fries? i think not.

my day is over. as of six o' clock. at six o' clock, i will retreat into my mind and become the introspective girl my mother loves. mainly because my day was so good that i don't want to forget it. i'm going to go over it in my head. over and over, until it's imprinted on my brain.

i'm going to tell you about it too. because i think it's one of those rare special moments in an otherwise tragic life that everyone can enjoy.

WARNING: this post is hella long. seriously. i'm not even going to reread this. i clicked preview. that's good enough. so like, i won't hold it against you if you skim down and get the general idea of what happened. <3

about two days ago, my friend- we'll call her clingy, because she is- called me and asked me to take her to central park. (oh, by the way, i live in new york. surprise!) so yeah, i said okay, whatever. apparently she had never been there. until today. so today, i met up with her even though i was tired and really considered cancelling. not like i could've cancelled. she called me about one hour before we were supposed to meet up and said something about a chance of rain. i said whatever and went to meet her.

mood-- tired.

we got on the train. she was loud (unfortunately, i swore honesty and here it is) and completely obnoxious. in my opinion. i try to have quiet conversations on the train, since sometimes people like to catch a nap before work. it's called being considerate. a word i'll have to teach clingy sometime. she told me- and everyone else on the train- all about this guy who blahblahblah. and how they blahblahblah. but now she's blahblahblah and blahblahblah. she also said something about how he sent her a text and said blahblahblah. while she's talking, a girl gets on the train, really skinny. lovely collarbones, thin legs, the whole nine yards. something similar to envy curls up in my stomach and takes the place of hunger. fills me with a sort of mad determination. (mad as in crazy. crazy as in...me.) i look back and my friend and nod in all the right places, huff, sigh and roll my eyes until we get to seventy-second street.

mood--determined. but mainly tired.


she sees an urban outfitters store and we go inside and look around. basically waste fifteen minutes. i don't have a problem with the store, it's just not my style. no offense if you do like it. we go back outside and i lose all sense of direction and we walk parallel to central park for about twenty minutes. i finally ask a stranger where it is. just make a right and go straight, he says. three blocks, he says. you can't miss it, he says. two out of three were correct. it was at least ten blocks. good exercise though. my friend asks me to slow down. i was walking fast, yes. burning calories and such. she laughs and says "i guess i'm the fat kid." i don't debate with her. although she appears to be somewhat skinnier than me, i appear to be healthier. we finally reach central park. she buys snapple, i buy vitamin water. by the time she's finished her snapple, i'm barely halfway through my drink. i chug it quickly to not make her feel awkward. we've been walking for at least one hour by now. she says she's hungry and wants to go to the shake shack. as the native new yorker, i'm expected to lead the way. so i do.

mood-- energized. and bored.


she starts talking about the guy again and i'm looking all over, trying to find something interesting. don't think poorly of me, i just didn't want to hear the story again. suddenly, i find something interesting. a young doorman, sitting on a stool outside an apartment complex. without thinking, i say hi.

me-- how are you?
him-- not bad. and yourself?
me-- pretty good, pretty good.

end of conversation, right? wrong-o! i start walking away again, only to hear him say "guitar!" at which point i turn around and my memory comes rushing back. about two months ago, my friends and i had been in central park, in the same area. i had my guitar then, and i was singing for them. (i like to pretend i'm a professional sometimes.) anyway, this guy suddenly pops up with the cutest dog in the world. a dog i took a picture of. look at him, so cute.

it's a labradoodle and dog's name is atticus, the guy tells us. (yes, i took a picture of a stranger's dog. so sue me.) the guy notices i have a guitar and asks for me to sing something. since my fan base is relatively small, i seize the moment and sing a semi-crappy version of "i will survive." yes, embarrassing. but he liked it. it was fun. that day. i didn't get his name then, anyway. although i did fall in love with the dog. which wasn't even his dog, but back to the story.

so it turns out that this is the guy. being a doorman and stuff. and i'm excited and i shriek, "atticus!" which isn't his name, but shows that i remember him. we have a conversation- which is more than clingy and i did ALL DAY- and we finally exchange names. (and nothing else.) he asks me about school and stuff and openly displays shock at my being in college. he thought i was possibly in high school because of all my energy. (i look younger than i am. it's a blessing and a curse.) during our conversation, clingy is standing far off, on the phone with her mother. he notices that she's a bit impatient and says i should probably go, but that i know where he is now. which is just another way of saying i hope i see you again. (right?!) so i walk away, a skip in my step.

did i mention he was cute? because uhm, he was cute. he had these like, eyes. and this face. and his voice was like, wow. but his eyes, mainly. they were like, a crystallized sort of blue. imagine you took a diamond and looked at the sea through it. or the sky on a warm summer day. it would be around that color.

mood- effervescent. bubbly. i'm a freaking can of ginger ale and i'm all shook up.

we get her food, she eats. i don't, of course. even though she shows me a vegan burger (that was drool-worthy) and suggests i get fries. (day two of water fasting. too early to cave in.) she says i'm weird because i'm happy. i say i'm happy because i ran into someone i met before. since we're still on the same street and just a hop, skip and a jump away from where this guy is working, i attempt to lead us back to his door. unfortunately, she's not into it. NEVER MIND THE FACT THAT I WASTED MY LIFE BRINGING HER TO CENTRAL PARK. AND OF COURSE SHE WOULDN'T REMEMBER ALL THOSE TIMES I TOOK HER TO MANHATTAN. because those are just minor details. so i give up, and we start heading back, looking for stores. i buy a pack of tic tacs and suck on them angrily. all of them.

mood- deflated. she popped my balloon.


as we wander aimlessly, i think about how i'm already (virtually) taken, and all the time i've spent with this guy. i have one of those moments where my allegories- good and bad- are on my shoulder and we're having a three way conversation. the good one states that the guy i'm with has told me he loved me more times than i could count. the bad one says that it means nothing, since i'm still not his girlfriend. the good one retorts that i don't even know this guy, sitting in uniform, remembering who i am. the bad one laughs and says that's why i should get to know him. at this point, i'm giving in to the dark side. i scribble his name in my notebook and tell my friend it's time to go home.

mood- determined. why? who knows?


before i go home, i stop at a thrift store i frequently go to and head toward the books section. like i always do. there, on the shelf is a book of william butler yeats's poetry. this guy wrote the poem the cat and the moon, which is where i first encountered the name minnaloushe which is what i named my guitar! the guitar i was playing when i met this guy! the guitar that led him to me. i'm totally reading into this more than i should. and making you read more than you should. unless you skimmed. in which case, GO BACK AND READ IT.  ALL OF IT. how dare you.


but anyway, to make a long story... end, i'm totally going back there. without clingy. with someone who wouldn't leave me while i'm trying to talk to a random cute guy who thinks i'm cool. or might just be a fan of my music. yes, it's more than slightly unfair to the guy who said he loves me and then moved shortly after, but variety is the spice of life. and i'm fickle. c'est la vie.

damn. this was a long post. sorry about that.

note to self: writing out events of full day-- bad idea.

honestly.