commonplaces

This afternoon, whilst working at the copy shop, I was reading Eugene Peterson's Tell it Slant and slowly being induced into a melancholic funk by Patty Griffin, and then Ben showed up. He brought coffee for me. He sat down and ate his sub sandwich and we made conversation. It was a good time that was made even better when Sally and Justin walked in. It was great.

The copy shop is widely known as a mind-numbing place of employment, which is okay during the school year because I usually have plenty of homework. But during the summer, it's different. A) I don't have homework, B) There are probably more library employees here than patrons, and C) All that's left is scanning something like 1987's "Retailing Today" to the server. So, I try to get people to come visit me, or I try to read or listen to lectures, or actually get some scanning done. But mostly I browse Facebook and play Robot Unicorn Attack and surf mindlessly with an acute awareness that the web is shattering my focus and rewiring my brain.

So three friends coming to visit was awesome. We talked about plans for tonight, about cleaning bedrooms, handwriting, Russia, the copy shop, cell phones, Muse, shells and cheese, Russia, friends who are leaving, friends who are coming back, beer, how to effectively waste time, book covers, and looking for jobs, and other things.

Sally acted as a scribe and recorded conversation fragments on scraps of paper:

"Is Jacob here? No, he left. Did he leave a note? Did he call? He left this morning without leaving his number. Why did Jacob leave? He left at like seven this morning."

"I've just got to go. Why did any of us stay? We didn't we go too? Katie left for Seattle today."

"How's Seattle going? I'm glad that you love your roommate. How's the weather there?"

"You are a child. So where do you buy this stuff? Do you think this is recyclable?"

"I have a Muse song stuck in my head. I like hysteria. Which came first? I don't know. The chicken or the egg?"

"If change is not possible then I am dead. It's not random white noise, man. It's just shit. These are like hidden jewels."

"This is not appropriate library expression. So just throw it away, man. No, we have to white it out then we thrown it away. There are thought police everywhere."

"Let's make it Anna and Michael part two. It's a special occasion. Okay, you're being a big wet blanket. That's less offensive. But it's just dull and domesticated."

"Did you hear my idea? Did you ever want to be a legal secretary? That would be a waste of material?"

"It sounded like coherent thoughts broken up in chunks."

"I think that was the home school lesson we just skipped."