week in review: earthquake drills, donkey shows, & the cat6
at work we had the annual earthquake drill. i'm the first aid guy, so the principal brought me kids on whom i was to practice bandaging broken limbs with gauze and pieces of cardboard. as exciting as this may sound i was envious of those who got to wear hardhats and search the bungalows and main building for anyone who may have been left behind. if anything it was the hardhat i was jealous of. i guess i'd rather play dress up than doctor.
we went to norms the other night where outside we were approached by a vietnam vet who told us about this huge pot party in calabasas, where the "fascist mayor" outlawed smoking in one's backyard. he then graced us with this tidbit of wisdom, or nonsense: "you hear about it, your friends have heard about it, but you'll never meet someone who will die of second hand smoke. just like the donkey show," he said matter of factly.
on a more surreal note, a dear friend to a handful of my dear friends passed away last week. i knew him primarily through them, and less so through my college stint as an RA; to me he was that person to whom you were always reintroduced even though you rarely forget names and the faces that go with them, and he didn't seem to be the type to either. so then you'd shake hands as if for the first time, when really it was the fifth or sixth, while cordially laughing and reminding your mutual friend that you have indeed already been introduced many times over. then came the sparked lighters and small talk. thus another bullet point is added to this year's lists of firsts: this was the first death of someone i knew-albeit fleetingly and remotely--in a long time. as mentioned in several conversations i've had with those who knew him, you know you're getting older when those around you move on.
standardized testing is upon the public schools of california, which means i need to be up early to administer and proctor those stupid things.
we went to norms the other night where outside we were approached by a vietnam vet who told us about this huge pot party in calabasas, where the "fascist mayor" outlawed smoking in one's backyard. he then graced us with this tidbit of wisdom, or nonsense: "you hear about it, your friends have heard about it, but you'll never meet someone who will die of second hand smoke. just like the donkey show," he said matter of factly.
on a more surreal note, a dear friend to a handful of my dear friends passed away last week. i knew him primarily through them, and less so through my college stint as an RA; to me he was that person to whom you were always reintroduced even though you rarely forget names and the faces that go with them, and he didn't seem to be the type to either. so then you'd shake hands as if for the first time, when really it was the fifth or sixth, while cordially laughing and reminding your mutual friend that you have indeed already been introduced many times over. then came the sparked lighters and small talk. thus another bullet point is added to this year's lists of firsts: this was the first death of someone i knew-albeit fleetingly and remotely--in a long time. as mentioned in several conversations i've had with those who knew him, you know you're getting older when those around you move on.
standardized testing is upon the public schools of california, which means i need to be up early to administer and proctor those stupid things.
posted by Unknown @ 9:56 PM
1 Comments:
At 8:42 PM,
Bozasm said…
While this isn't what you meant, I understand the idea of "you know you're getting older when those around you move on."
A friend of mine is moving to Chicago, with low chance of her coming back in the next 5 years. Another friend is deciding how hard it might be to move away from long-time girlfriend to pursue a PHD. Leaving friends at work who are going here and there pursuing their careers and whatnot.
In high school, if someone left halfway across the US, you'd be sad they're leaving, but now it feels like people are reaching for their goals, and it's much easier to let them go.
Post a Comment
<< Home