and there's no time like now to begin.


my aunt called me this morning, and she asked me to help her remove the popcorn from the ceiling in the rosemont house. i didn't really want to, but before i could refuse, she said she would pay me. as usual, i had nothing planned, so i agreed.

i spent the day with sabrina and gina, and we sprayed the ceilings with a hose, and then we scraped off the popcorn. it was messy, but not difficult. i got to borrow randy's jumpsuit, and it didn't really fit me well. but at least i didn't get crap all over my jeans and elton john t-shirt. tita bing (beng?) showed up and taped down plastic so that the carpet wouldn't get ruined. she asked me how my mom was.

we also took uncle rebel's bed to the mayo's house, so that gina could use it. it's a newer, bigger bed for her. being in the truck with randy and gina, even if it was only for less than five minutes, was kind of strange. it's kind of like those sitcoms, where you never expect certain characters to go on adventures together, but they do anyway. i asked randy how he learned all that handyman stuff he knows. the actual phrase i used, though, was: "taking apart kitchen cabinets and stuff." he said he learned it in the military. in the military, he built government houses; at least, i think that's what he said. i tried imagining him in the shit, taking orders, taking gunfire. i couldn't do it.

when we did the master bedroom, i got this strange thought. i was scraping away what my grandparents looked at every night for a significant portion of their lives. i wondered if they'd be mad. i wondered if this was even significant. i thought i might've read some poem at some point, something about asbestos, how it slowly sank into lovers' lungs and poked holes. but i probably just made that up. and anyway, it was heart problems that took them.

my aunt still makes harsh comments about my cousin's weight, even though she isn't fat. all girls have to look like a more anorexic version of mischa barton, i guess.

the blue angels were buzzing around again. through the living room window, i watched them a little bit. if i smoked, i would've had a cigarette.

on the bike ride home, i saw two latinas sitting on their rooftop, watching the blue angels. and there were three old people, two women and one man, watching from their driveway. the old man had a camera.

it was the first time i've ever seen this place so alive.

all thanks to an air show.

1 comment:

Richard said...

Should have use that ax and made a hole through the wall and then blame Gina.