After work

I drove downtown to pick up Drummer from his job. A few blocks from my destination, I passed between about a hundred enthusiastic picketers. Ignoring the drizzly weather, they gleefully shouted at passing cars and waved signs with sayings like: “Honk if you support local workers.” I honked along with many others.

On the way home, Drummer and I saw three different accidents, all minor, while listening to the foreign music CD Ikuni burned for me. Drummer said he liked female Japanese singers more than males, but male Japanese voice actors more than females. I said I could hear more of the emotion in their voices when I couldn’t understand what they were saying.

At home, I changed into jeans, ate left over lasagna, and watched a bit of the Home & Garden channel. Then I made another trip downtown to get Ikuni from drama rehearsal.

On the expressway I spotted a motorcycle on the shoulder. A man reclined against the bike’s handles, like he was on a comfortable sofa at home. A woman faced him, sitting with one leg casually crossed on the other. As they talked, the setting sun lighted the edges of her hair, and the man raised his hand toward her face. They looked in love. Right there on the side of the highway.

Waiting in the drama school’s parking lot, I took time out to worry—about the house not selling, about going in the hole each month, about my credit running out. I also thought about how much I miss someone looking at me the way that guy on the motorcycle was looking at her.

After picking up Ikuni, we talked about the different rhythms of the German, Russian and Japanese languages (not that I know much about it; she’s the language expert in the family) then we made a quick trip to Best Buy, so she could spend her birthday money.

As we drove home, Ikuni chatted on the cell phone with a friend, and sentences like, “I’ve got to add that to my rabid Shounen-ai fangirl list,” are punctuated with the occasional “woot,” “su-weet,” and “funness.” She dropped the top to her lip balm and cursed in French.

When we got home, I remembered that I forgot to start a wash load earlier. I also saw the bags of garbage needing to be taken out and the pile of dishes waiting to be washed. I cursed in English and typed this post instead.

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