My friend Janane was looking over my shoulder and laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your google drive! Mine is full of random pictures, and yours is full of random documents.”
This makes sense when you consider that she is a photographer and I am a writer. In any case, this inspired me to poke through some of the random things I’ve written and stored in google drive. Like this bit:
Stand on a stool.
Try standing on your tiptoes.
I’m sorry, I was in a meeting.
I’ll try to answer my phone next time.
Don’t worry, your arms will grow.
Try calling back when I’m not so busy.
Um, context please, Emily of the past? I don’t even remember writing this, and I have no clue what it’s supposed to mean. I think I just wrote down my exact thoughts, sans context, just for fun.
I want to go somewhere else for a while:a foggy place where I can look sideways into the misty breeze, and read ancient hardback romances, and drink tea from sophisticated glass tea cups. No one will tell me what to do, or even make hints, and I will only write the things I want to write. If I get tired of having no responsibilities, I may get a very small cat. That is all.
And, a little weirder:
Sometimes when I’m lying in bed at night I think things that don’t make a lick of sense, and it makes me happy because it means I am inches from falling asleep. But this afternoon I scrolled through Twitter and thought, “I am grape.” That didn’t make any sense, obviously, but I’m not falling asleep, so what does that mean? That I’m inches from crazy?
LOL, I remember writing that one. I wasn’t falling asleep but I was experiencing a crazy amount of daytime fatigue at that point in my life.
I thought that in his life everything must happen in the summer, all the colors muted, and the whole town diving into the creek, and people loving each other. I wanted to go back in time and photoshop myself in, so I could have the same memories.
“I’ll admit it,” he said. “I’m intimidated by women who make more money than me.”
I don’t know what her opinion of him was, then. She was a feminist, but not an angry one. I tiptoed through the conversation, smoothing down the corners.
And a bit of fiction for good measure.
“You see that thing that looks like a really bright star?” Roberta said. We were lying on the trampoline, snuggled into our sleeping bags, and her arm pointed up across my slice of sky like the dial on a speedometer.
“Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it a star?”
“No,” she said. “That’s Mars. That’s where I’m gonna live some day.”
“You’re not gonna live there!” said Cliff. “You can’t live on Mars. There’s no atmosphere.”
“I’ll wear a space suit,” said Roberta.
I tried to imagine a grown-up Roberta, wearing a long, floral skirt over her puffy space-suit pants, a prayer veiling pinned up under her helmet.
I guess I imagined her going, but not really leaving.
In the course of my poking around, I also found part of a book proposal that I’d forgotten I’d started, my graduation speech from 2008, a two page “About Me” section I wrote for this blog and then didn’t use because it sounded pretentious, the hastily-designed program for the Christmas Play I directed, and a transcribed interview with my grandpa.
Oh, and contrary to Janane’s claim, I did have some random photos as well.
I can’t be the only one. What are some of the strangest things lurking in your Google Drive?