Cross the river to the east side - 07.30.03 - 12:18 pm
Look!

You want to hear something funny?

OK, for the past three weeks, the duckling has had a nest in my parent's bedroom closet. There are eight eggs and she sits on them all day and all night. She leaves the closet twice a day for about ten minutes to eat and make the biggest pile of duck shit you've ever seen (the little darling waits until she's outside). She is often very cranky and runs around in circles, yelling, while I fill up her swimmin' tub.

For three weeks, there has been a duck in my parent's closet and my father has yet to notice. Last Thursday, he asked if I had seen the duckling lately and I'm like, yeah. Then he says, "I think she has a nest somewhere cuz I never see her that much anymore."

Ahem.

Yesterday, my mom asked me when I thought we should tell my dad about the duck in the closet. I said when the eggs hatch and little baby ducks come marching out of the bedroom during Law & Order. Then I'm like, "Hey, Mom. Wanna make it interesting? Ten bucks says he won't notice until they've hatched." Unfortunately, my mom does not want to bet against that, so no gambling on my father. Draaag.

Anyway, I'm going to talk about a boy now. And not a pirate boy, either. Apologies.

I'm pretty sure I am over Jerkface. I have no idea how this happened, but there are theories. Of course, there are theories...this is the kind of thing you make a note of for future references.

I don't know. I've been trying to find a way to explain this for weeks now and nothing ever comes out right. I do know I am bored. And tired. This has got to be the most pointless crush ever, except for the one I had on Luke Perry in 6th grade. Nothing has or will come of it and I'm wasting my time.

Also, Jerkface and I are hardly even friends anymore. No, that sounds bad. It's not like we had some dumb falling out or anything...he just hasn't been talking to me. And while saying that you care about a person is nice, words mean little when you don't act upon them. Ah, I don't know. This will get too long if I start detailing what brought that on.

And then there is the most influential, I think, thing that caused this change of heart, mind, whatever: I'm too busy thinking about other things and making stuff to bother with boys. My bed is covered in books and I stay up late looking for old articles in online newspaper archives. I go into work early so I can take notes from the reference books and every time I start to think about Jerkface, my mind wanders back to what I want to read next and, "Dude, I should totally use that island in my novel."

I wonder what it says about my priorities when a boy has been beaten out by 18th century Florida history and a typewriter?

So, yeah. I'm not sure what this means since it's not like we were together or he even changed his life around to accommodate these feelings or whatever. This only really affects me and I'm kind of mad at myself that it took me this long to realize it.

I do wonder, though, does this mean that he'll be my friend again?

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