He's short. I'd say about 5'6" or 5'7". A little rotund but I think he's just built that way; he appears to be more muscle than fat. His voice is slightly nasal and his laugh emerges as these hearty staccato chuckles.
And his eyes.
His eyes are this marvelous mixture of bright browns and intense greens-- 'hazel' just doesn't cut it. They illuminate as the sun catches them just right. The kind of eyes that are intimidating and terrifying when he's enraged and yet amazingly enchanting and beautiful when they're wading in pools of tears.
And it intrigues me because I'm not particularly attracted to him in any sort of romantic capacity. I just find his characteristics more remarkable than others I work with.
I read somewhere that it's simply human nature that causes people to stick their tongues out when they're working on something puzzling or difficult with their hands.
I noticed a co-worker doing it the other night. I was holding a flashlight over his work area but close enough to still see his face. And from the corner of my eye, I noticed a strange bit of movement. I canted my head a little and peeked again to see the tip of his tongue sliding between his lips at a regular interval, in and out. It kind of made me chuckle but I disguised it as a cough; it was chilly outside.
February 20, 2011
February 11, 2011
hoicks
And suddenly, there was a fine mess of dust in the air.
The tiniest grains of sand, dancing about on the breeze, creating the gentlest haze that reduced visibility by a fair amount.
A sandstorm? I pondered. I wasn't sure what to expect. Co-workers told stories of massive uproars of wind and sand accompanied by rumbling thunder and all sorts of calamity.
Yet what I saw before me was akin to my hometown's usual bout of fog in the early morning.
I spend a good amount of time looking at the night sky. My mind tries to recall all those kooky constellations and their locations.
Nine times out of ten, I always see Orion (I think everyone does). He helps me sort out just what direction I'm looking in. Then, I try and piece together who else I see.
Big Dipper.
Little Dipper.
Cassiopeia.
Perseus.
But I always forget where Cetus and Andromeda and Pegasus are. I remember the story involving them all from an astronomy class I took in college. That was probably my favorite part of the class-- the stories of the stars in the sky.
After we got into eclipses and penumbras and whatnot, I dropped it. Started getting too math-y.
Lately, I've become aware of how pessimistic people have become. At least, my co-workers seem to be. Whenever the smallest bit of work comes up, their default response is "Well, that sucks."
Does it? Isn't that why we're here? To work?
And in that same vein, when there isn't work and everyone's sitting around, bored, again, they say "...this sucks."
The negativity is just silly to me. Things really aren't that bad. Plus, in my mind, if you think that something is bad or unfortunate right off the bat, you automatically cancel out any chance of it being enjoyable in the slightest degree, no?
Along with that, apparently I have some kind of less-than-sunny disposition (which isn't the case. I'm just in a constant dont-give-a-fuck mode). But because I don't smile often and I'm not energetic or gregarious and playful, something's wrong or I'm sad (perhaps it's my attraction to sad things that has made me appear to be unhappy?)
My joke to myself is that I should probably invest in Botox and plaster a big, fake, smile on my face.
Then, when they ask why that's the only emotion I'm capable of expressing and I tell them, they'll respond:
"Oh, that sucks."
The tiniest grains of sand, dancing about on the breeze, creating the gentlest haze that reduced visibility by a fair amount.
A sandstorm? I pondered. I wasn't sure what to expect. Co-workers told stories of massive uproars of wind and sand accompanied by rumbling thunder and all sorts of calamity.
Yet what I saw before me was akin to my hometown's usual bout of fog in the early morning.
I spend a good amount of time looking at the night sky. My mind tries to recall all those kooky constellations and their locations.
Nine times out of ten, I always see Orion (I think everyone does). He helps me sort out just what direction I'm looking in. Then, I try and piece together who else I see.
Big Dipper.
Little Dipper.
Cassiopeia.
Perseus.
But I always forget where Cetus and Andromeda and Pegasus are. I remember the story involving them all from an astronomy class I took in college. That was probably my favorite part of the class-- the stories of the stars in the sky.
After we got into eclipses and penumbras and whatnot, I dropped it. Started getting too math-y.
Lately, I've become aware of how pessimistic people have become. At least, my co-workers seem to be. Whenever the smallest bit of work comes up, their default response is "Well, that sucks."
Does it? Isn't that why we're here? To work?
And in that same vein, when there isn't work and everyone's sitting around, bored, again, they say "...this sucks."
The negativity is just silly to me. Things really aren't that bad. Plus, in my mind, if you think that something is bad or unfortunate right off the bat, you automatically cancel out any chance of it being enjoyable in the slightest degree, no?
Along with that, apparently I have some kind of less-than-sunny disposition (which isn't the case. I'm just in a constant dont-give-a-fuck mode). But because I don't smile often and I'm not energetic or gregarious and playful, something's wrong or I'm sad (perhaps it's my attraction to sad things that has made me appear to be unhappy?)
My joke to myself is that I should probably invest in Botox and plaster a big, fake, smile on my face.
Then, when they ask why that's the only emotion I'm capable of expressing and I tell them, they'll respond:
"Oh, that sucks."
February 1, 2011
nonproblematically
(from January 18th)
After overhearing my roommates speaking of paying for wi-fi in our room, I decided to chip in.
What?
You try venturing to the nearest coffee shop in order to check your e-mail. It's painful and unnecessary.
Plus, the quality of it is horrible anyway. I mean, as of now, I can't even connect to it. Which, again, leaves me to find something productive to do.
Actually, I finished a book today, something totally worth noting since I hardly read as much as I like to (unless you count the various things I read on the internet).
It was a splendid book, in fact. I've about three more books that I brought with me until I have to search for new material to read.
I'm always anxious when I search for books. I really can't just... (there's no way I could avoid using this phrase) ... judge a book by its cover.
Plus, I have commitment issues. If I buy a book, I feel as though I'm bound to it and I must read it in its entirety. Additionally, I'm just... too lazy to turn around and return a book.
Libraries? Eh, a bit of a germ factor there. I mean, I dunno WHO has touched those books before I have.
You know what feeling I enjoy?
That exhaustion after a long day of work. Because there's nothing else you really want to do but sleep. And when you finally get to sleep, it's possibly the most magical and wonderful sensation in the world.
You don't have to struggle because you've depleted your energy stores and once you find yourself cradled in sheets with a pillow beneath your head and your gaze falls onto the back of your eyelids and it's the end of your day.
Good night.
Buenos noches.
Bonne nuit.
Oyasumi nasai.
Done.
I like that.
After overhearing my roommates speaking of paying for wi-fi in our room, I decided to chip in.
What?
You try venturing to the nearest coffee shop in order to check your e-mail. It's painful and unnecessary.
Plus, the quality of it is horrible anyway. I mean, as of now, I can't even connect to it. Which, again, leaves me to find something productive to do.
Actually, I finished a book today, something totally worth noting since I hardly read as much as I like to (unless you count the various things I read on the internet).
It was a splendid book, in fact. I've about three more books that I brought with me until I have to search for new material to read.
I'm always anxious when I search for books. I really can't just... (there's no way I could avoid using this phrase) ... judge a book by its cover.
Plus, I have commitment issues. If I buy a book, I feel as though I'm bound to it and I must read it in its entirety. Additionally, I'm just... too lazy to turn around and return a book.
Libraries? Eh, a bit of a germ factor there. I mean, I dunno WHO has touched those books before I have.
You know what feeling I enjoy?
That exhaustion after a long day of work. Because there's nothing else you really want to do but sleep. And when you finally get to sleep, it's possibly the most magical and wonderful sensation in the world.
You don't have to struggle because you've depleted your energy stores and once you find yourself cradled in sheets with a pillow beneath your head and your gaze falls onto the back of your eyelids and it's the end of your day.
Good night.
Buenos noches.
Bonne nuit.
Oyasumi nasai.
Done.
I like that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)