my favorite part of the day is when I pretend that I don't exist.
I sit in the cafeteria or at one of the picnic tables by the elementary school with dark glasses and a pen in hand. paul assigned it as movement observation but it smacks of people watching.

my notes are the game when you invent stories about people driving past you on the highway.
her steps are hurried, hunched toward another audition, memorizing monologues heel-toe, heel-toe...he's leaving class, hands shaking and brows furrowed over the test grade that could cost him his scholarship...they're walking towards lunch, keeping his hand tight in hers because she's trying to convince herself that they're still in love...he struts by the basketball court, chest out, catching the eyes of the sophomore girls, when all he really wants is the guy in his bio class.

this game is closely followed by the first impression game. I tend to make friends with the kids who seem lonely. most people just thought I was tall. I guess it's a tie.

ash @ 10:46 PM