Tuesday, December 27, 2005

PART ONE - AND SO THAT IS HOW I ENDED UP .

"what do you want to be when you grow up?" said the authority.
"i want to make greeting cards," i responded.
"people do that?" said the authority.
"i don't know, i think, i mean, someone has to do it," i said hestiniatly. "well, something creative, anyway."
"well how about marketing or advertising?" said the authority.

and so that is how i ended up here, kneeling on the floor of a storage room at Arnold WorldWide, organizing piles of posters and promo display cases when i came across a storyboard, with hand drawn cartoons on it which told a story. as i read and admired the masterpiece i wondered who had made it. so i walked out of the storage room, down the hall, carrying the board, when the long-haired asian with the bright yellow converse shoes whom i noticed in the elevator every morning yelled, "who's new board?" from his closet sized office. "uh?" i said as i stopped at the door. he told me then and there that he was a "creative." he concepted ideas for commericals and drew them up. cool, i thought, but how do you get there. "if you want to be a creative, go to a portifolio school, make a book, draw up your own storyboard ideas and then come back here."
"ummm, ok, sure," i responded and walked out of his office.
i never saw that "creative guy" again not even during the remainder of my summer as the storage room intern. but i have always remembered him.



"so i'm going to ireland," said the best friend.
"for real?" i responded.
"i applied today," and she threw the catolag at me.
"you can't leave me here, alone, our senior year!" i said.
"so go abroad too," said the best friend.
and so that is how i ended up here, in a tiny village on the west coast of the green aisle, residing in a cottage with a straw roof and sheep in the backyard. currently, i lay under 2 comforters, a fleece blanket and piles of clothes and stare up at the sky-light window that is directly above me, the stars are so radiant that my room is glowing as bright as a night-light from them. the air is so pure that it makes me feel clean just sleeping with the windows opened. i love the air, i love the clearity and humility that ireland has given me. but i am dreading class tommorrow. 12 art school students sitting in a castle, ripping on everyone's work, over-analyzing it and philiosophing it. and when it comes to mine, i know what they are going to say, i know they will say it is "too" commerical. it is not "fine art"
but then
breathe in the air again and soundly go to sleep.



"eueh," i said as my body jumped up in the bed.
"what's wrong?," said the boyfriend.
"nothing. "i said, "its just that.something does not feel right"
"its not me? is it?" said the boyfriend.
"no. i have to do something, i have to go," and then i jumped up from the bed, threw on my clothes, threw my bra in my purse, took out my keys and headed for the door.
and so that is how i ended up here, laying on the cement stairs of my new apartment building, inhaling and then exhaling as i slowly open my eyes to see the greyish yellow peeling paint on the underside of the set of stairs above me. i wonder if i should move, did i break my back? one by one, panicky questions came into my head. what if i my neck is broken? am i paralysized?. o god, i hope i'm not paralisized, i havent even started classes yet? at orientation yesterday, "they" said this would be a overwhelming painful two years..for some reason i dont think they meant this kind of pain. shit! waht did i do? what should i do? i wish the best friend was here. i wish a best friend was here. dont panic. maybe i should try to stand up? should i call 911? i wanna to go home!
"help", i yelled, but no one seem to be around.
"um, someone, anyone, i slipped down the stairs, i'm afraid to move. ' "help" i yelped. nothing, no one. well if i broke my back i won't be able to move my fingers. "dear brain, please make my fingers wiggle" and then they did.
i think i am going to be ok and i slowly push my body to sit up right and breathe.

4 Comments:

Blogger melvin said...

concha...you've been great!

5:43 PM  
Blogger Courious Grown Kid said...

You too... like you style of writing...

2:27 AM  
Blogger concha said...

um thanks...but i haven't commented yet.

ok, now i have.

7:50 PM  
Blogger Anj said...

So it worked, you've guilted me into signing up for a blog so I can comment. Who knows maybe I'll even start my own blog and call it "limbo"...

Good stuff, I can't wait to read the rest of it.

8:52 AM  

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