Two Hours and Fifteen Minutes

"We always wind up talking about death." says Binker to me on the phone this evening.

"We do not always wind up talking about death. It's part of life and we talk about pretty much everything so yeah we're going to talk about it but we do not always talk about it.", I object.

"Oh! That reminds me. I thought of an interesting scenario. What if it wasn't you that had two hours and fifteen minutes, it was someone else?"

"That is interesting!", pause, "okay so maybe we do talk about death a lot."

Two hours and fifteen minutes. It's a game we started about a year and a half ago. If the world was going to explode in two hours and fifteen minutes what would you do with that time? I'm pretty sure at the time it was because we wanted to watch Batman instead of go to class but it didn't go away.

From this came all sorts of hypothesis and variations of the question. Does the whole world KNOW it's going to blow up or only the two of us? What if it was just the two of us that were going to die and no explosions were present? What if just one of us was? What if it was a week instead of two hours and fifteen minutes? And now, what if someone else had two hours and fifteen minutes? Do only you know?

Would you tell the person? It was decided that this would depend on the person. If you don't tell the person are you responsible for telling people this person is close to?

I ask what Binker would do if someone just came up to him and told him he only had two hours and fifteen minutes to live. He wouldn't really take them seriously, some random stranger, but I insist that he would still look at that time slot differently and whether or not random stranger was prophet or loon (though sometimes the two are not mutually exclusive) would weigh on his mind. Of course after all the conversations we've had about it he says that if someone randomly came up and spouted that exact number at him he would certainly wonder.

I suggested we could change people's lives by being the random prophet loons. Not becuase they'd die, but because maybe they'd live those two hours and fifteen minutes in a different light. Maybe they'd call their Mom. Maybe they'd get a massage. Maybe we'd get arrested. It wouldn't be the first time one of our "normal" activities got attention from the police.
("I need to see some ID."
Sorry sir none of us have any on us.
"What are you all doing down here "(at the park after dark)
We were singing sir.
" ? ... ? I need to see some ID.")

In a mere fifteen minutes it will be 2:00 and I should most certainly be in bed by that time. Goodnight and if the world explodes may your dreams til then be pleasant ones! And I hope you fit in a good midnight snack. ;)

Hello Again

I'm in the lobby of the Hampton Inn looking up various loved ones blogs, remembering what brilliant and beautiful people are in my life and considering converting some of todays giggles into a "blog". I'm also waiting for the others to come down and we're going to a movie though I'm really tired and not entirely sure this is a good idea. Ah well, can't really complain since I get to go see a movie and I'm tired because of late night chats with some of aforementioned beatiful people. So Miss Ambiguious is considering a return though it may be short lived. Time will tell. And lack of exhaustion. Or maybe the exhaustion is neccesary to the proces.

First Entry

*note- despite the lack of chronological correctness this was indeed my first post that was unfortunately deleted.

Here I am in the fishbowl at school looking through blogs instead of working on Squadfits like I should be. One of the glorious things about these first couple weeks of August is being on whatever schedule I like. Lingering in bed to read in the morning is one of my favorite uses of this gift of time. I am currently being inspired by Madeline L'Engle's Circle of Quiet, which I accidently stumbled upon in the library while looking for something else.It's funny, but sometimes I get so caught up in the not so real busy things of life that I forget that I love to read. Actually I suppose that isn't funny at all.

My very best friend in the whole world visited me this weekend. We had a really good time together. I used to believe that everyone had a friend like her, that everyone had a relationship as close, had an Other. Only a few years ago did I realize how blessed I was. It's funny that we both go to school so far away and yest so semi-close to each other. It happened so accidentally. She graduates this December and I'm so proud of her. Sister Alex is a very smart woman, though she doesn't realize it.

I am rat-sitting this week. Okay, by this week I actually mean Saturday night and yesterday. They belong to Rhett and Scarlett and are named Neville Longbottom and Sir Tobey. Last night the three of us lay on the couch and I tried not to be too ticklish while they scurried around my neck like a living scarf. I talked to Sister Alex last night and said I was going to miss them when they left today. "Yes but Scarlett and Rhett will be back." Oh yeah.

Library

I've been holding off going to the library because I want to finish Circle of Quiet before I start something else. I was so proud of myself when I only checked out that book, and it took a lot of effort to do so. This isn't because I take books home and devour them, that's exactly the problem.

Despite my complaints that we have a terrible school library there are plenty of good treasures there and I easily become overwhelmed by the literary feast. I want to know everything about everything so I grab several books that dazzle me, convinced that with some scheduling I'll somehow be an expert on seven new topics within a month. Consequently I read none of them and feel like a failure.

And so, when I discovered Mrs L'Engle's book, and found sitting on the library floor, that this was something I wanted to read, I had to force myself out of the library without grabbing anything else. It has been well worth it. I must remember the neccesity of small steps.

So why did I go today? Because it's gorgeous outside and I want to read some by the fountain before I head home. Also, Mrs L'Engle has reminded me of the importance of Fairy Tales and I wanted to get a book of Grimm's. I also took a look about the poetry section and chose a slender blue book of 75 poems by e.e. cummings. I'm not familiar with cummings and I enjoyed our small introduction, once again seated on the linoleaum floor of the library.

After choosing some music and happily realizing that I could watch videos at the library (I just put my television away last night. More on this later. I had no idea what a fantastic video collection we have!) I went to check out.
e.e. cummings was one of the older books which you have to sign for on it's card instead of through the computer. It hadn't been checked out since 1979. This similtaneously mortified and pleased me, in the same way you feel when you discover you are someone's sole friend. I was sad it had gone unloved for so long, but pleased that I got to rescue it.