Dear Snow, II

I left a box of your sweatshirts and mixes on the stoop outside my house. I thought I could melt your heart, you frigid, flaky bastard. Don't call me.

Dear Snow,

At 6:10, there is this moment where I do not know where I am. I have been sleeping on my arm and so won't move correctly, I don't know why I'm awake even though the radio is on, and I am under a small mountain of down comforter that smells like clean laundry. It's dark; I am perfect. Understand this, friend: this is perfection.

At 6:11, there is this moment where it all ends. I have to get up for school. The floor is cold. I cannot find my pants. The man on the radio is talking about the temperature outside, and I think I heard something about the low 20's.

Please, please - you do not have the power to change 6:10, it is already perfect. But 6:11 you can change. You can make 6:11 a moment of euphoria as great as 6:10. Let me roll back over and go to sleep. Let me contemplate the joys of waking up at 9:30 to a winter wonderland empty of state-sponsored doldrums. Please, please, please.

Your Loyal Friend,
Sam

P.S. Please.

Scenes 11: Marathon Edition

One: Friday
I have never gotten out of the parking lot faster. Thank you for being a part of that.

Two: Saturday
There is never a way we're going to get three people on that sled, but I think we feel it is worth a shot anyway. I mean what have we got to lose, besides our lives and stuff?

Three: Sunday
It turns out I look psychotic in a balaclava.

Twist Endings

MONICA smiles.

MONICA
Do I have to say something?

A beat. SAM types.

MONICA (chuckling)
I guess that means yes.

She stares at SAM, possibly annoyed?

MONICA
This is a lot of pressure, Sam. Also it's not a conversation. You're just typing... what I say.

Silence.

SAM
I am iron man!

CUT TO CREDITS, CUE AWESOME HARDCORE ROCK MUSIC.

Physics Library

If anyone is interested in listening to the original Diplomat's son, go to VampireWeekend.com and then just click on the song you want. It's a very different flavor.

Death Comes to Tulson County

February 8, 2010; 8:37 AM: Death Comes to Tulson County, Pennsylvania

It's warm for February, and he's driving on the interstate.

8:49 AM: Death Leaves Tulson County

He thought the toll prices were very reasonable.

This Is True

Snakes are the sort of wild animal you do not see a lot of, and I have been thinking. Squirrels you see a lot of, birds you see a lot of. Deer you see a lot of, too, even if you wouldn't know it from how people stop their cars and stare out the window like aliens have touched down. But not snakes.

I found this snake one day in December after school on a two-hour-delay day. He was languishing in the snow next to the spot in the driveway where I park my car. I tortured him with a stick for a bit, grabbed my camera to snap a few pictures, and then went inside promptly forgot about him.

The snow melted a few days later, and I found him dead under a bush in the yard.

Snakes are the sort of wild animal you do not see a lot of, and I have been thinking: it might be because they crawl under bushes and die.

Chapters

ONE: I DESPISE LEMON TEA

Yeah, I mean this isn't just not liking lemon tea. He despises this stuff. Lemon tea drove to his house and killed his mom.

TWO: SLEEP TIGHT

It seems like something you would do loosely. I mean like tight is sort of the opposite of relaxed. What was the plan here?

THREE: WHEN IT GETS WARM WE COULD PLAY ULTIMATE AND THEN EAT REESE'S AFTERWARDS I WAS THINKING MAYBE HOT SHOWERS FOLLOWED BY A GAME OF BOGGLE

Yes. Absolutely yes.

One Poem, Two Minutes

When indeed I buy a steed
I'll name her Alligator Lead
and buy her Eucalyptus plants
and cargo pants and army ants
And though she'll one day run from here
(Of this I'm certain; I asked a seer)
I'll never look to bring her home

For every horse is meant to roam.

Grounded

They were the kind of kids who could have flown but were too worried future employers might see them trying to learn.

RE: MOVING FORWARD

A fee letter is fifteen pages exactly, but the letterhead paper is thicker so Barton breaks it up into two sections right after point number twelve (results not guaranteed) and feeds it into the shredder upside-down.

He used to work nine to five, just like a real job, but he was always tired in the morning. His mom's nice lawyer friend told him he could come in after lunch if he wanted to. He wakes up around eleven now, most days.

It's Wednesday.

Barton slips off his designer sunglasses and settles down at his desk, glancing briefly at the box by the door with the usual scribbled instructions sticky-noted to the top: "scan, then shred."

Putting on the iPod he got for his last birthday, he glances out the window and then starts work. He's glad for the window in his office. He doesn't like turning on the lights; it wastes energy.

He's glad it will be summer soon, so that all his old high school friends will be back from college. Maybe he could even talk Kim into filling the open secretary position. It'd be cool if they could hang out or something.

The letter he is shredding was written last fall - the first email the client sent (RE: Moving Forward). A husband was contacting the firm regarding a divorce, though he still loves his cheating wife. He never retained the firm.

In the morning, Barton drives to the cold beach to see the sunrise. It's a cliché, sure, but it's a nice sight if you're willing to wake up early enough to see it.

Eel

This one's so bad it's almost hard to believe.

Conflicts, Questions, Rules

1.
If a dance was cancelled, it was dancelled.

2.
In light of 1., it seems like an unintentional pun would be called punintentional. When I came up with this it seemed like a real breakthrough, but then I realized the sad truth of the matter - "punintentional" sounds like "pun intentional," which is rather self-defeating.

3.
Two different species of meat should not be in one dish. Meat isn't like fruit or vegetables or wheat. I don't want any meat salads or meats wrapped in other meats. Bacon cheeseburgers are okay, but only if the burger is done really crispy.

4.
If you're talking to people about their pets, you're allowed to guess at the gender the first time you're talking about them. After that, though, when they pointedly use "he" or "her" in context, why can't you just take the hint and get it right?

5.
Furthermore, cats shouldn't be named boots.

Diplomat's Son Cover

We're kicking off the marathon with a kind post I've never tried before. Embedded in this post is my own ukulele cover of Vampire Weekend's "Diplomat's Son," which I recorded Friday night. Keep in mind that it's still a little rough around the edges.

Diplomat's Son

It's not right
But it's now or never
And if I wait
Could I ever forgive myself?

On the night
When the moon glows yellow in the riptide
There's a light
From the TV's buzzin' in the house.

'Cause I'm gonna cut it where I can and then
I'm gonna take it behind them
if I ever had a chance it's now then but
I never had the feelin' I could offer that to you.

To offer it to you would be cruel
When all I want to do is use, use you.

He was a diplomat's son
It was '81
He was a diplomat's son
It was '81

Dressed in white
With my car keys hidden in the kitchen
I could sleep
Wherever I lay my head

And the sight
Of your two shoes hidden in the bathtub
Let me know
That I shouldn't give up just yet.

Cause I'm gonna take it from Simon and then
I'm gonna take it behind them
if I ever had a chance it's now then but
I never had the feelin' I could offer that to you.

To offer it to you would be cruel
When all I want to do is use, use you.

He was a diplomat's son
It was '81
He was a diplomat's son
It was '81

That night I smoked a joint
With my best friend
We found ourselves in bed
When I woke up, he was gone

He was a diplomat's son
It was '81
He was a diplomat's son
It was '81

And that night
When the moon glows yellow in the riptide
I can't feel
Any traces of that other place.

And that night
When the moon comes racin' off the river
There's a car
All black with diplomatic plates.

Snowed-In

Due to the snow this weekend, it's extremely unlikely I'll be leaving the house and extremely likely I'll have a lot of free time.

With this in mind, I'm going to try a snowed-in twelve post marathon!

This weekend I'll be posting twelve times - once every four hours on the hour, at 2:00, 6:00, and 10:00 AM and PM. Blogger has a handy function where you can schedule a post to be published at a certain time, so that's probably what I'll end up doing with a few of these.

A quick disclaimer: there is a chance my power will go out. If that happens, this will likely be cancelled. I apologize.