Exactly fitting

          I'm rewatching Lars and the Real Girl. And eating peanut butter and jelly on a tortilla (hello, poverty-induced creativity). Both of these are wonderful things.
          Lars and the Real Girl is ... this perfect blend of sweet and strange and heartbreak and humor and improbability. It's beautiful. Even aesthetically, with all these muted tones, grey sky, dirty snow, fair isle knit sweaters. And the music is exactly right - endearing and simple. Winsome. A little lonely.

          I have a free day today. I don't know what to do with myself.


Later ...
          Went to Applebee's with Decker and Kelly. I realize that Applebee's is generally not held to be a particularly fine establishment, given that it's a chain. Mass produced food of what's probably not very high quality. But I don't care.
          For some reason, my circle of friends here at school has developed this fondness for the place. It's like the nerdy kid no one else likes but for whom we have an inexplicable affection.
          It could be that dorm life (and the cafeteria food that goes with it) has so conditioned us that we appreciate even the smallest overtures toward culinary expertise. Or maybe it's just nice to get off campus. Or it could be the gigantic, fruit-flavored drinks served in what are essentially fishbowls on glassware stems. With paper umbrellas thrown in. And pineapples on skewers. And cherries. Alcoholic fruit salad is basically what it boils down to.
          At any rate, it's become a tradition. Our go-to restaurant. It's either Applebee's or the sushi place across the parking lot.
          The three of us sat around, making sparse (but relaxed) conversation. I think we were mostly happy at the thought of food that wasn't made in a microwave in a dorm room. Decker folded his sticky paper napkin ring into some geometric shape. Kelly watched the Olympics on one of the screens around the bar area (does anyone ever actually come to Applebee's to solely drink at their bar?). I mostly wrapped myself up in my thoughts - I probably got that vapid, glazed look, staring into space.

          Speaking of, we're apparently approaching the peak of the Perseid meteor shower. I've learned that it happens once every 133 years. I think maybe I'm going to convince a few people to get in a car to drive out to a field sometime tomorrow night. The peak is supposed to be in the hours just before dawn.
          The last time I watched a meteor shower was in high school. It was a school night, early winter. My mom and I set our alarms for two in the morning - we bundled up and walked into the field behind our house. We set out a blanket and lay back to look up at the stars. It was a little overcast, and our breath fogged in the cold air, but we could still see the fleeting streaks of light. We went in after an hour, frozen but happy.
          I'm excited for tomorrow night. I'm such a sucker for these things. I keep wishing some of my friends were around - the ones who also get transfixed by stars. It's ridiculous, I know. But there's a part of me that will always be a romantic - sometimes you just gotta admit who you are. I miss having people around who don't think it's a waste of time to drive to the middle of nowhere to watch a few particles of comet debris clash with the upper atmosphere.