The Kite Massacre of oh six
Saturday, April 8, 2006
I screamed and threw the kite. I couldn't put the cursed thing together. There was no way. I lay in the grass defeated. Everything was going right. The day was windy, sunny and Saturday. My kite flying experience should have gone perfectly. But no. NOOO. I couldn't figure out how to make R1 fit into R2 or how to cross B3 to the left front mass or how in the heal B5 turned out to be the back sail of this bloody pirate kite! Anna couldn't get the plastic part off of the string. We sat in silence. Breathing heavy. Frusterated. Livid. We just wanted to fly kites. Is that too much to ask?
"Carrie- this is symbolic of your dating life."
It always looks like it's going to be so perfect right? The sun is shining, the situation is just right- and you find what looks like could be an amazing kite to fly. An amazing guy to get to know and put together. But no. NOOO. Suddenly, you're out in the wind and you can't figure out how to make his sense of humor fit with yours. Or how to cross his shyness with your bold tendencies. Or how in the heal his witty banter turned out to be bitter sarcasm that makes you feel like the dust of the earth! You're friends appear to have the same problem. But you sit and wait in silence. Breathing heavy. Frusterated. Livid. Impatient.
Anna and I drug our kites home in despair.
"It was a good idea. Whimsical turned deadly."
Indeed- my dating life.