Lonely Notions and The Nodders

This is from July. But it was on my good ole space, so I thought I'd bring it over to good ole blogspot. I'll do an update afterward!

Alone in a house.

As a naturally contradicting person, this experience is both delightful and horrifying for me. After watching part of a tedious awards show followed by a friendly after party and a night of tp-ing with other friendly relations, coming home to an empty house I didn't expect is not encouraging. My feelings of being deserted, though stagnant, are slightly repressed with the revelation of noise. NOISE NOISE NOISE. I get to make it and I get to do whatever I want, which normally gratifies me. 

Ah, well. We cannot always feel how we want to feel. And who am I to even say that I know how I want to feel? I certainly do not. Maybe.

Contradictions habitually pour out of me like melted ice coming out of one of those faded red ice chests. The ones with a little gnawing on the sides from when the dog got bored. 

Is thousand island dressing just a mixture of all the world's debris? That's how it appears. And when Mrs G orders her tomato slices/avocado with thousand island dressing and "NO GREENS!" (God forbid any garden-greens nourish her body), my wretched glass-half-empty attitude tends to think about how fast it's killing her. I would rather die of mexican food or brownies. 

ONTO BETTER THINGS:

I had The Nodders tonight. The F's. Their orders come swiftly but slow enough for me to write, and then they nod. They nod gracefully and they thank me with their syrupy Bronx-ish/Jewish speech. They nod every time I say anything. I'm not better than them and they're not better than me. We're on the same level, the F's and me. 

UPDATE:

The Nodders commended me the other day because I remembered that Mr F usually has green tea with his meal. He orders a small skim milk and then the tea. He likes honey with it, as I do, unlike any other residents. As I have served The Nodders any number of times, it wasn't difficult to recall that he forgot to order it, so I simply brought it out. They both ooh-d and aah-d that I remembered, and I felt that tinge of satisfaction at having pleased them in the middle of their dinner. These minute things are fuel for existence. 

SHEENA UPDATE:

Apparently Sheena's heart has been broken. So the other day, his cheesey song of choice was "My Heart Will Go On", but I hear he didn't look mischievous or happy when he was singing it. I'll take this time to say that your heart will go on, Sheena. And even though reading romantic vampire books when you feel alone is a difficult thing to do, know that if I can do it, so can you. Let's go to starbucks.