Who do I still think I am??

This one's about gross everywhere.

30DBC PROMPT: "Freeze a scene from your weekend and describe it in as much sensory detail as possible."

Good afternoon, dear readers. Allow me to present to you the junior edition of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" 's "Sunday Review", entitled "Wildcard Monday: review a tiny snippet of your weekend, but with much more force". Can do, bloggers!

Now, I can't complain. Buildings and forests aren't spontaneously combusting where I'm livin'. Oh it's been hot this weekend, that's for sure. I can't think of a moment that I spent outside where I wasn't covered in a glaze of sweat like a human donut. But stuff's not catching fire at random, so we're totally lucky in that department. For one brief moment of seriousness, say a few words to your maker for the people and places that are dealing with things burning uncontrollably.

Ok...now that our good deed for the month is out of the way, let's proceed beyond how ironic it is that today's prompt begins with the word "Freeze" even though temperatures locally were somewhere between 85 and "I went to Hell and all I got was this lousy t-shirt with sweat stains in the armpits". I wish I could've frozen a little more than a scene...and all the ice cream I could've eaten in the world wouldn't have helped.

It's no secret that I live life on the edge of living life truly on the edge. On a scale of 1 to "totally stupid to even think about doing", I kick my feet back casually on a 6.5. I'll run with scissors, I'll test the limits of a gas pedal, and I'll go swimming before the recommended time after eating a meal is up...but I'm not that crazy. There are things that will take a steep amount of money to do, and then there are things that I won't even consider (though, let's be fair, there isn't much on that list).

Sunday is a good example of testing my limits. Rather than going to the crappy little memorial park two blocks away to spend an afternoon reading in front of their fountain (which in retrospect is what I should've done, because when the wind blows just right the fountain mists on you and it's really refreshing, but it doesn't mess up the reading part with the book), I decided I'd step literally and physically out of my comfort zone and walk to a real park to read. It was a park in a part of town I've yet to see in the nine or so months I've been a resident, and it's more like an actual park in that there's shelters, a playground, a creek and a swimming pool (as opposed to the aforementioned fountain, and memorial stones). It took me about twenty minutes to walk over there, and it would've taken considerably less time were it not for my now near-permanently disfigured left ankle (not even kidding...I took a solid look at it the other day in comparison to my right ankle, and they don't even look like they belong on the same body).

I made my way over to a park bench and cracked open a literary classic. Third book I've read in a week (and I've mentioned in the past that when I start reading, I read in piles...this week has been no exception). After awhile I took a stroll around the park, and came back upon my bench to read some more.

I really need to pay more attention to the people around me...however, the more I do that the more pissed off I tend to get (but that's another entry for another time).

There I was, on the park bench, not paying attention to anything (and not http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iOVHpsc1LAI). Not the kids yelling and screaming, not the bad music being pumped in over by the pool, not the dog walkers, not the bikes zipping by, and not the people smoking in front of the "No Smoking" signs. Just me, the book and the bench.

Until I heard a bike pull up and a voice say, "Hey, you must really be enjoying that book!" I'll take this moment to mention that I don't like being disturbed, especially when I'm doing anything that looks like there should be a "Do NOT Disturb" sign hanging from my eyelids.

I took a deep inhalation and looked up. An old guy on a mountain bike, wearing old guy shorts and a old guy shirt but a not-so-old guy bike helmet, had stopped and was trying to engage a patron of the park (myself) whilst trying to do the most solitary of tasks (reading a damn book). It was for that very reason alone I wanted to tackle him, but I was more afraid of scratching his bike than inflicting harm to his person. I hesitated for a minute, filed all my sarcastic remarks to the bottom of my throat, and said, "Yes, I am, it's a classic." Then I looked down, into the book that was still open and being controlled by my hands and eyes, as if to send him the cue that I'm no longer wishing to be a party to any conversation.

Good thing this old guy wasn't good at taking cues, 'cuz he kept right on talkin'. "Whatchya readin'? You been readin' that book for as long as I was sittin' over there..." and he pointed over to the next bench, maybe 200 feet farther into the park. I again swallowed my bitter tongue, looked directly at him, and firmly said, "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest", hoping (foolishly, again) that he'd get the hint that I didn't feel like being bothered.

Aaaaaaaaand, no. "Well gee, I never heard of it, but I'm not all literary or nothin'." Yeah Jethro, I get it already. Thanks for invitin' yourself to a gun fight and bringin' a knife. If I'm the guy who looks out of place to someone reading a book in a park, what exactly does that make the guy who's been watching a guy reading a book in a park? Take a snapshot of that for your scrapbook. Me in my white and various shades of blue plaid shorts, white "2008 National Night Out" t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and the Nike golf hat, barefoot on a park bench...not wearing any sunscreen against medical and practical advice because I'm dangerous and stupid like that to a 6.5, my arms redder than the screams from the inside of my mouth later that evening in the cold shower I took to try to wash a day's layer of sweat from my body with one of those scrubbie-sponges made for shower gel that felt like I was washing my arms with a cheese grater. Ten minutes after that shower those same arms felt like the Fourth of July was being celebrated between my skin and my biceps, and the sweat had returned to collect and drip off my neck just as fast as it went down the drain.

I don't do sensory detail very well at times...I don't often do anything well when I'm consciously trying to do whatever it is. I'm just thankful that this entry hasn't caught any kind of fire yet.

BCF PROMPT: "Would you rather spend time in the forest or the city?"

If you were to ask me this question fifty times, you'd probably get a 25/25 split for either answer from me, depending on my mood. But I have to think that I would gladly take the city life over the forest more often than not, somehow. For all the crap and clamor that comes with living in a city (or something like it), it beats the blinding silence of expecting a noise and it not occurring.

Maybe it's because I'm accustomed to suburbia, or at least a part of the suburbs that more closely resembles a city than a forest, so that's where I'd feel more comfortable. Even though people aggravate me, I need the din of somebody else's clusterfucks to feel more safely at home than the uncertainty that comes with unfamiliar wildlife noises from plants and animals that may or may not be trying to kill me.

What I really need is to live in a bubble, where I can adjust the volume of the world around me. Maybe add in some preset noises too, so I can just hear whatever I want to hear when I need some kind of background sound that isn't music, but isn't nature either. One of them "white noise" radios, but instead of thunderstorms and babbling brooks it's the roar of a football stadium and rush hour traffic. I can tune out the neighborhood trash when I really want to and crank it up if I need a good laugh. And then I can bounce my bubble onto another place when I get bored with where I'm at.

Sounds like I'd rather be in fantasyland than anywhere else, I guess. I tend to spend more time than normal there anyway.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Yep, goin' totally 80's with this classic.

THE DAILY BOX SCORE:

I'll be keeping an eye on the "Blogging Circle of Friends "  new contest, the "Invalid Item" . I love seeing contests like this that promote the community spirit and all, but I'm also a little curious to see how it's gonna play out. It'll be a good place to find some new reads, and that much I'm certain about, so check it out of you've got a few spare clicks.

I signed up for a gathering this coming Thursday at the local library regarding self-publishing. I guess they're having a "well-known regional author" (never heard of him) come in and lead a discussion on the topic. I was minding my own business when the hot chick that I believe shares a mutual distaste with me for each other came up to me earlier with possibly one of the worst excuses to talk to me ever..."Did I see that you signed up for our seminar..." and proceeded to give the entire one minute spiel and synopsis of the event. All I said was yes, and she said she normally calls people to remind them but since I was here she'd just tell me. How cute...she knows my name. She probably makes tremendous fun of me behind my back too. Stupid smart hot girls.

And with that I'm gonna shut up and go back to minding my own business...I've got a lot of that to be catchin' up on over the years I've accumulated. Peace, one flew east and one flew west, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!