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Story Short

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17th April 2008 | 03:47 am
mood: tired but somewhat satisfied
music: Hold Me Down - Motion City Soundtrack

I had to write a 4-5 page short story for Writing31. I don't know if I like it yet because it's pretty typical and I didn't really convey how reading that CL ad made me feel. I also I feel like you have to sort of know me to be at all amused with it. Becaaauuuussseee, if you know me, then you know that I'm a bad liar, so in effect, even my fiction is kind of truth. xD You'll also know that I'm pretty silly and unnecessarily wordy, which I think this story essentially is and you'll be more likely to "accept" it as it is if you knew me. Oops.

Also, it's 4 in the morning and the ending is a little (or a lot) weak and rushed. In my defense, one of the side effects of the thing I'm taking is "confusion," which includes three things that I have trouble with normally: stuttering, and the ability to form ideas quickly or eloquently. Haha but really, I'm not taking enough for it to affect me that much, I'm just trying to find something to blame, so without further ado... the result of 12:00a-4:00a.

Aucoeur Christine Ngo
April 17, 2008
Writing31- Story Short

I was just looking for a place to live next year. Well really, I was neglecting my Bio reading. Did you know that the reason why pouring salt on a snail will kill it is because unlike humans, their skin is permeable, which makes it really easy for the salt to be absorbed into their system, and too much salt will reverse the movement of water from the inside of the snail to the outside where the salt is, as to balance out the concentration of sodium on each side, essentially making the snail die of dehydration? Did you know that coral is an animal? I didn’t. At any rate, what I’m learning is clearly going to be useful in the future, when I decide whether ridding my garden of snails or decorating my house with coral is particularly more sadistic.

As an now enlightened (but still jobless) student maxed out on loans, I didn’t quite realize how expensive housing was until I started looking around. I could probably sell a few of my internal organs, but that would mean I’d have to henceforth handle my youth with a not-so-reckless abandon. Maybe I could auction off my soul, but I don’t know how much that sad little thing would go for, plus I’m not sure I’d be okay with sacrificing any small animals to contact the realms below. I guess that garden’s going to have to wait. I briefly entertained the idea of, you know, standing on a street corner and looking like I know what I’m doing, but as Rilo Kiley so aptly put it, “you might get rich, but you’ll die by it.” This situation was as bleak as my soul was black. I guess I could just not eat for a few months, but I figure, I’m already poor and homeless, the least I could do is to really appreciate midnight runs for horchata and/or but not limited to, bagels with thinly sliced salmon on top. What can I say, I’m a hedonist. Carpe Diem. Nevertheless, money-making schemes aside, I didn’t really have any idea how to go about doing any of these things, even if I had the balls to do them. So, naturally, I went to the one place that would pave the way for me, (were I so inclined to indulge in such fantasies), Craiglist. It’s a great site really, chock full of local flavor regardless of how you, or anyone, defines local (or flavor).

There I was, hunched over my laptop scouring the world wide web for a place to throw my wallet into. I’d say invest but that would indicate that I’m getting some sort of return or gain from it. Not the case. Looking like a prime example of early onset of carpal tunnel, glaucoma and hunchbackinism, I typed in keyword after keyword, hoping to strike gold. Or oil. Whatever’s more valuable now. Anyway, searching for houses is apparently incredibly stressful and twice as taxing on my psyche than the fact that I’m behind on my Bio reading. I finished the rest of my horchata. Then I called my mom.

“Hi honey, did you eat yet?”
“Mom, it’s 10:30 at night…I’m eating right now. But that’s not the point!”
“What’s the point?”
“The point is…do you know how much money we could have saved if you just sent me to a public school? Money that I could have used now to find housing so I could go to school that will determine the rest of my LIFE? And by the transitive property, possibly yours?!”
“But your elementary school wasn’t that expensive and you said you were scared to go to a public high school after spending 10 years in a private one.”
“…This is true.”
“I know.”
I was silent for a while. Can’t argue with that.
“Oh, oh! But all is not lost! I have a brilliant plan! You can withdraw Emmy and Dil and send them over to the Monrovia Unified School District. I heard they got accredited this year.”
It was quiet.
“Hello? Moooom?”
“Sweetie, are you saying something? I can’t hear you. I’m going to bed. Good night! Stop dropping your phone. Brush your teeth. Go to class tomorrow.”
“Mom! I have full bars! There’s no static! I know you can hear m-”
“Thanks Mom, I’ll just live in my car.”

Not being too fond of that idea, since my windows aren’t tinted, I begrudgingly jumped back on Craigslist. Being that my resolve was pretty broken from that epic fail, I started to look around more aimlessly, clicking whatever heading best caught my fancy. Oblivious to the direction my link-clicking had sent me, my eyes landed on a rather enticing phrase.

“Free housing.”
Click. It was like I hit jackpot.
“Big house, nice neighborhood, with a working professional.”
I kept reading.
“Housing will be exchanged for maintaining the household as it is difficult for me because I am in a wheelchair.”
Oh hey, totally doable, I’m good at cleaning, I like it.
“I’m very observant and caring. I put up with a lot because of my condition and am just looking for someone who is willing to be told what to do.”
Err, that would still work, I don’t care if he can’t walk, besides I’m a pushover and I work better with some direction in my life anyway.
“Must be completely submissive, especially in the bedroom.”
I can’t stop reading.
“I have major interest in the following areas: bondage, spanking, whipping, verbal abuse, and orgasm control.”
What? I looked back at the title.
“Free housing - Male dom looking for long term female live-in sub.”

I closed my browser. Sorry Craig, it wouldn’t worked between us anyway. You’re great and cultured and all but my family just wouldn’t approve. Looks like I’ll be investing in tinted windows. I brushed my teeth, turned off my phone, missed Bio the next morning and subsequently forgot about my housing dilemma. Biology had taken priority. Did you know that two of Darwin’s theories of evolution were combat and sexual selection? I didn’t. Or maybe I did.

I went back on Craiglist last week, after telling my best friend about them crazy characters on the internets, but I couldn’t find him. I found a guy “looking for cunnilingus lessons to make up for small dick” and another looking for someone to join him in wearing his dead mom’s clothing while walking their dogs and some other guys who would provide free housing if you walked around the house naked, but I couldn’t find my wheelchair guy. I wonder if he found who he was looking for.

Eeeh. Then I had to print out 15 copies to pass out to the class. Grreat. Now to do a current event response, a reading response and to class at 8. :D Yay school!

Also I just spent like an forty-five minutes (it's now 5:42) interviewing myself OUTLOUD as if I was some sort of famous person. Ahahahaha "what the hell, Robert Christine, what the hell?"

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