Que Sera Sera


Sept. 12, 2002

Tonight I went to Borders to read and daydream, which is basically what I do at home, but I thought a change of scenery would be nice. Also, I knew I’d have to actually wear pants, which I think builds character.

I tried curling up with a photography book and half-heartedly thumbing through some CDs, but nothing really held my attention. There were too many people to look at, which is not something I encounter when reading at home. I eventually gravitated towards young adult fiction, leafing through the books I liked when I was eleven, which happens more than I care to admit. It never fails to amaze me that I can recall the full name of every single member of the Babysitters Club, yet I cannot for the life of me remember when to use “lay” and when to use “lie.”

I ended up at the magazine rack, but I realized I was more aware of the young man hesitating next to me in the Hives T-shirt and Vans than the article I was reading. I kept my eyes on the page, but I was really wondering whether or not he’d actually say anything to me, or if I should comment on his shoes. “I have those shoes, too,” I said to him in my head, but then I wasn’t sure how he would respond, or if I even cared if he did, so I closed the magazine, walked out the door and got in my car, rolling down all my windows and turning up Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice.”

The air smelled promising and my hair felt good against my face, and I drove around my block three times before I finally went inside.

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