I don't think I've ever voiced how much I hate Oak Harbor. Aside from Nibble's Bakery (what a horrible name for a gourmet European sweetshop), the whole town provokes one word: grey. Although the onion-spired mosque in the distance hints of some(dare I say it) exotic element to the town, it is utterly overshadowed by the polluted-looking mud flats and the apartment-complex sailboats, neatly arranged in the harbor as if by a five-year old girl arranging her army of dollies for tea. teens with underdeveloped street speak are yelling at each other about stealing shoes for cris'sake. I'm glad my transfer here only takes an hour. Now, where to find a bathroom?
I'm writing so as not to plan out what to say to Sierra. That way the butterflies in my stomach won't get the better of me. It's like speaking Spanish--I just go as fast as I can with what I know and hope that the rest comes or that whoever I'm speaking to is too inebriated to pay attention.
I found a bathroom. You have to wonder what crackhead or lesbian designed toilet stalls with walls that are nearly one and a half feet off the ground.
I'm on the ferry now. As I lay out my lunch I feel like I'm laying out my insides. The raw, whole tomato turns to human heart; the Balsamic rice and chicken into liver and various other intestinal organs. Mango flavored yogurt sours on my tongue. Here come the butterflies.
So I got into PT at 2:00. Right away, I went to the Co-op where she worked. The woman at the deli told me that she hadn't seen Sierra in weeks. I walked about three miles to her house, all the while wondering if she'd even be there. I found it, anyway.
There was nothing sentimental about our thirty-minute visit, frankly. I gave her flowers and she told me she hadn't packed a thing and was leaving at 2AM the next morning. I told her about my day, hoping for some emotional exchange. She laughed dryly at the part about my spitting friend, thanked me for coming and mentioned something about Arlo. She liked my skirt and I showed her photos of Antigua with a rehearsed enthusiasm. She gave me a ride to the ferry and I told her to have a great life as she buckled her seatbelt and drove away.
My next big task in life is to become an expert vandal. With witty, subtle yet in-your-face pop-art, I will educate the unheeding masses. You just wait.
[A prime example of the endearingly ridiculous scheming that drives everyone I know crazy]
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