When I walk and/or drive out of my apartment at around 2-3, I get a good look at the nearby park, and by extension of that, I get a good look at the schoolchildren canoodling in the shade.
I never take a long look or anything because, let's face it, even at my relatively young age me looking at high schoolers macking is probably a bit inappropriate, but today my vantage point when waiting to make a left turn had me looking straight at a couple with nothing to do but wait until I could actually turn. They were entwined in the grass, quite close to each other, and what was perturbing about that was that they were completely still.
Like, asleep still. This didn't sit well with me, as it looked like the most uncomfortable way to take a nap in the history of naps. It wasn't a standard spooning position or anything, either; it was as if they were trying the spooning thing but forgot to use two spoons put together visually as a point of reference, messed that up, then just went with it because I guess they wanted to act like adults in love or something.
I really can't do justice to how uncomfortable this looked. I'm sorry I didn't take a picture for you, but see paragraph two for my reasoning behind not taking one.
This is the topic of today's blog not because I was shocked by the discomfort these kids were forcing upon themselves, but because it made me flash back to my days as an adolescent. In case you didn't know me then, I can tell you I was as much looking on the outside in on teen relationships as I was today.
The difference is back then I thought I was missing out.
Nowadays, I see those kids every day, laying in that uncomfortable position for a long freaking time. I can't help but think how boring their afternoons must be.
This is something I can see in hindsight pretty well. When I was in school, I was slightly jealous of the people who spent the days macking away, feeling a slight tinge of sadness when I reflected upon why I as sprinting to my car to get back home by 2:30 to watch last night's Colbert Report alone, followed by some more television and probably a movie or two.
Now I realize that is how I prefer to spend my days. I wish I could spend every day like that, not having to worry about a job or anything, and reclining on my couch without having to awkwardly avoid breathing in the warm breaths of the person I'm incorrectly spooning with in a park because I can't have girls over at my parents' house*. My adolescent life turned out to be pretty sweet, looking back on it all.
But if my life was bitching, then why did I talk myself into developing an awkward sense of humor as a coping mechanism for being a total nerd?
Shit, I need to reevaluate the way I do things. I'm going to start by patting myself on the back as I watch "Party Down" all the way through for the second time in two weeks. All this time I thought I was supposed to be making fun of myself for that, and I just didn't talk it through to realize that's kick-ass, I guess.
*If I actually did a tally of all the non-relative girls that visited my parents' house my whole life, I think I could come up with five, maybe six tops. This could be because of the menacing "No Girls Allowed" sign I put up in my bedroom window (I never did that, really; that was a joke)
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