Ra-in-Seattle

Ok this seems really daunting, the first day of the 750 words March challenge, but I can do it! Jonathan is such a whiz, he started writing at 6:04 in the morning and finished some 19 minutes later. How does he do it? Last night I had a bizarre dream about going to Thai Tom or some other kind of Thai restaurant with Mummy Daddy and Rebekah and I ordered teriyaki chicken of some sort even though I wanted to eat at a Thai place. Maybe I should’ve ordered Pad Thai or Pad See Ew my favourite but I didn’t because I was feeling oily and it was as if I had just ate fried noodles for lunch. I must’ve been thinking Saturday with Jacob.

First up, I was in the toilet the other day (sometime last week) pooping, and a thought suddenly occurred to me. Aargh now I feel like pooping but I don’t want the distractions thing to come up for me. Man, for the life of me I can’t recall what it was now. But I remember making some connections, it was almost an epiphany! The other one I wanted to write about was how when I was younger and wanted to make myself cry (Rebekah wanted to learn to train herself to cry at whim like actors), I would think of Daddy or Mummy dying and me at their funeral. And to make myself cry harder I would absorb myself with those emotions. I made myself really sad that way, I think.

Well I should keep writing and not stop to think about what I want to write. Last night was Darwin’s Photo Fundraiser for his 26th birthday at a swanky bar in Capitol Hill… he’s trying to raise money for the people of Haiti, for microfinancing them. He is so ambitious and uses social media so well I’m impressed. He’s a top bloke indeed, after what he went through with the death of his brother and what not. It was a fun night, I had to say - sometimes I have my qualms about these things and feeling awkward in social situations where I don’t know many people and having to meet new people and make crap small talk that usually bores me because I can’t stir myself up to be more genuinely interested in them, especially if I don’t click well at the most superficial level at once. It’s difficult that way, but I have to learn to let the walls down and loosen up. I went with Brianna and Jack and Rachel Field, whose best friend is actually Indian Malaysian. How apt.

I ate at least 10 chicken wings, less than 15, probably 12-13? It was delicious, and I felt slightly guilty about indulging them on Sunday even though I am meant to be able to break my Lent fast. But I don’t feel too good this morning, what with the huge serving of bacon and swiss ham scramble I had for brunch after church yesterday morning. Carol always laughs at me when she sees me eating - last Thursday at c-group she said: ‘Whenever I look at you you always have food in your hands!!” She’s such a sweetie but I don’t know to what extent should I share with her. We talk alot about work and what I want to do etc but it never really goes beyond that. It makes me feel as if I’m a really boring person or something. Or maybe it’s just what people talk about when they grow up? No, that can’t be it. It must be me, boo!

So I spent a good amount of time chatting to Sam, who fascinates me the more I get to know him. I now know why he’s good at storytelling - he wanted to be a writer. He told me how there was one time during the nigh he was playing golf on the Terry rooftop and the security guard who patrols the dorms found him, picked him up and carried him back to his bed where he tucked him in. “I was really drunk”, he said. The guard knew him well though. I can just imagine little Sam, funny little Sam whom everyone must’ve been fond of. He has that quality about him. He was drinking bourbon and 7-up when we were talking, and I tried a sip and said “Yep, I like bourbon and whisky” - which I then found out was the same thing. He was surprised and said, “Wow, that’s hot. That’s unusual, girls usually like martinis where you have your vodka etc”. I’ve never been one for tequila or vodka - those were probably the first hard liquor I ever drank, so it doesn’t stick in my mind as tasty drinks. But Sam, Sam, Sam. He asks alot of questions and I would like him if he was younger, you know? I’ve never met anyone like him before. He described himself as “metropolitan” - more a city kind of guy with the nightlife and all, as opposed to his sister. He told me about his dreams to be a writer, a creative writer or a scriptwriter and how he tried for many years but nothing ever came to fruition. “But I’m not uncontented with my life”, he said. Which I thought a very positive way to put things. I have no idea how I would feel if my dreams were never fully realised.

“It’s too late now, like MMA (Mixed Martial Arts which he claims determines the ultimate athlete of strength and everything, really).”

Apparently he used to be the state champion for wrestling back in the days. He asked me what I do: sport, creative or otherwise. I sort of laughed it away and shook my head. “Aw come on Rachel! You gotta give me something to work with here.”

I think the change-the-world-one-person-at-a-time mentality kicked in, because I began to tell him about 750 words and how I’m doing it and how it’s supposed to help. Then he asked, how long have you been doing it for? To which I replied “Since yesterday!?”. He just laughed at me and shook his head. “Rachel, Rachel! The way you were talking about it I thought you’ve been doing it for a long time.”

“But I just found it yesterday!!”