Friday, June 10, 2011
I called to him and called to him and he just kept on barking. Thinking something might be wrong, I ran outside to grab him, leaving both my contact lenses and glasses on the bathroom sink. And of course, a neighbor I had never met before was trying to befriend little Poo-Bah, hence the non-stop barking. I stood there kind of awkwardly, as she decided that was the moment to befriend to me, as well. I debated telling her that I was seriously visually impaired at that moment, but felt uncomfortable at the prospect of saying something like, "Hi, it's nice to meet you, and in case I am blinking repeatedly or looking at you funny, I feel I should let you know that I can't see a thing without my contacts, which I don't have on my eyeballs right now." I kept wondering if she thought I was acting strange. Then, she decided to tell me her name.
"Wendy, it's nice to meet you. I'm Mahfam."
All I noticed then was: Blurry human shape in front of me who, if I really focused, appeared to be trying to comprehend what I just said. It was SO AWESOME. I didn't have to experience the scrunched up face and the dropped jaw and the raised eyebrows or ANY of it. I want to take out my contacts before introducing myself to everyone I meet for the rest of my life.
(And that ends my practice of writing for the sake of writing.)
Tracy Morgan is a douchebag. I don't want to reiterate everything everyone else has said. I just want to remind people that little queer kids are fucking awesome.