The Days After No Future

Just like no two snowfakes are the same, no two people have the same way of brushing their teeth. Some like to leave the room and come back. Others will carry on a nonexistent conversation with you through several ooosshga's and booopa's between every spit. Some prefer a cinnamon paste, a select few a bubblegum paste, others a mint, but no one an orange mint. I think that's the most important thing to remember about dental hygiene. No one likes the orange mint toothpaste.

But every now and then when I'm brushing my teeth I think about my dad's number one rule: It only counts if you brushed away to an entire song. Every night, after I had hopped in my onesies and combed out my hair, we'd put on a tape and brush until a song was over. Usually it was Chubby Checker, Elvis, or any Doo-Wop song. I think it's funny that most people think of the 1950's when you say Doo-Wop. I think of molars.

Sort of how when someone mentions snow, I think Star Wars. Every time we drove in the snow at night, my mom used to slow the car down then speed up so that the flakes would hit the car fast and turn into long white lines. She did this to pretend we were in that scene during A New Hope when the Millennium Falcon switched into light speed. The force is with her.

When I first moved away I tried making friends with people who reminded me of those I had left behind. It took me a long time to realize I had got it all wrong. Instead, I befriended those who made me feel the same way as they did.

Thank you to the dozen or so people who I started and ended my day with over the past week. It really says a lot about someone if they take you into their homes, but it says more about the people if they remind you of those back home, even it makes you think of doing "the twist."