Hello. I’m not quite sure how to start a blog as everything we do these days feels rather monitored.
I just went out to move my car because my Car App told me the rear window was open. I did see a man digging through the trash behind my car earlier, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I found him there, in my car, in the rear seat.
What is rear? Okay, I just looked it up. It means the back of something. I’ve always said words along the rear and assumed I was right. It’s like the time I saw cops and I said the opps are coming. My friends were like what? I said the opps! They said those are policemen. Oh, opps mean opposition, not cops. But let’s be honest…1312
Anyway, I drive my car back onto my street in a spot that I think she could maybe fit in. I back in like it’s a video game. I remember the first time I had to back into a parking spot, Nate had to get up from the passenger seat and do it for me. It was at the Anaheim Packing House. Or was it? I can’t even recall. It took me a moment to think of what Anaheim Packing House was called. Maybe that’s why people have these things. To remember, and to forget.
I didn’t do a great job but the car is there. She is parked. She is a car for sure.
This instance made me think about my Uber driver last year who slutted out his car. How I make these connections? I don’t know. I just thought of it.
Austin, TX 2024
I’m in the car with my ex-boyfriend, going home from a party. I’m from LA so I don’t want to walk. I call a car for us, it comes. I get in the car, and I called the car cute. I said, omg, this car is so cute! The driver goes something along the lines of, I don’t think it’s “cute”. She’s my sexy little slut, this car, yeah, rides like a hot bitch. My ex-boyfriend eggs it on by saying sir, this car is fueling my testosterone right now. I’m thinking to myself, god, what do we have here. While he was somewhat joking, it did attest to the relationship men had with their cars.
Now that I am done with that tangent, I don’t know what else is left. I was actually thinking blogging or writing words at all is a dumb idea. I’m happy so I don’t have shit else to say? It’s like, when Chance the Rapper got married and everyone was mad the album was shit. Or when Mitski finally became the girl in her movies, people were upset at her for growing up.
I’m not sure where this will lead me, but it will be a good reference point for my future self to look back on.
So whatever. To agony, frustration, hate, and love, and friendship and love.
XOXO
SQW
shari wei 