Tomorrow: watercolor painting in the park, Hatch Show Print, and downtown.
Btdubs, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were awesome last night.
Derek chuckled mildly to himself as he nervously bounced the small yellow pill in the palm of his hand. Once I ingest this one little pill, he thought, my biology will be permanently altered. He paused his hand, and pondered for a brief moment.
He shrugged. Worth it.
He clapped his hand to his open mouth and picked up the glass of water before him. A faint objection of last chance trailed through his mind before disappearing forever. He chased the pill with the water, swallowing until the glass was empty. He slammed the glass down on the table and stood up, looking around as if with new eyes.
“What am I doing?” Derek laughed. “It’ll take at least half an hour for anything to develop.”
He turned to sit in his recliner next to the ornamental plant that his mother had left him upon her demise. Reaching for the remote control, he popped the footrest up and turned the television on. After just a few minutes of flipping through the channels, the remote slipped from his fingers as a soft snore slipped from his lips.
A thin line of drool crept from the corner of his mouth, and the first hairs landed on his shoulder. Within six minutes, Derek was completely bald.
Fourteen hours later he woke with a start. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and noticed the cool breeze across his scalp. His right hand crept up above the place where his eyebrows used to be, and his eyes widened as he brushed the final loose hairs from his skin.
He kicked the recliner down and leaped across the room to the bathroom to freeze in front of the mirror, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sides of the sink.
Derek squeezed his eyes tightly closed until his cheeks began to hurt, and opened them again. Still bald, and not a single psychic power to be found. He took a step back and stumbled against the bathroom door, knocking the knob into the stopper on the wall behind. The sound startled him, and he jumped back forward, nearly falling into the sink.
“No. Take a breath, man,” he told himself, and he paused for a deep breath. He felt his mind begin to clear, to push the worries to the side, making room for bigger and better thoughts. He felt an itching deep inside his mind, a need for…something.
He whipped around to his left and pointed at his mother’s ornamental plant.
The pot shattered, and a smile appeared on Derek’s face.
“I think I can work with this,” he nodded, the grin growing wider and wider. “I can definitely work with this.”
Tomorrow we leave!
Today we attend a ninetieth birthday party.
He wore a palm tree print button up shirt, and I’ve never before in my life seen a man who could rock a pith helmet as well as this man could, were he wearing one. Even without a monocle and large mustache.
If Vanilla Ice shaved his head and grew his eyebrows out I think I just met him.
He asked if I had change, I said yes sir, I have change. He said, no, I mean a lot of change like for $100. I gave him change for his $100, and he insisted that I check it somehow in the dark to verify its authenticity. I held it up to the streetlight and saw that it had a metallic strip in it so I thanked him. He must have forgotten that I have his phone number and address should something be wrong with his money.
And this guy. Jeez, this guy. I knocked on the door of his hotel room, waited, and knocked again. I heard nothing, so I called him to verify his room number. Yeah, that’s my room, but I’m not there. I didn’t know you’d be here so fast. So he left, apparently. And I am currently standing outside of this downtown hotel at ten o’clock on a Friday night waiting for him. He was quoted 45 minutes to an hour, and it’s now been 45 minutes on the dot, since I’ve been writing this post while I wait. Maybe this is him. It was him. He eyeballed me as he drove past, parked very far away, and then slowly moseyed back to the front door, where he complained that I was too fast.
And the lady who said let me just make sure there’s no onions before you leave like I was going to pick them off for her if there were.
Seriously though, I’m having a heck of a time back delivering pizzas. I love it.
This is the sketchbook going on vacation with us. I plan to finish it–just not all on this trip.
Y’all, I’m so excited for our vacation next week. I’m gonna have so much cool stuff to show you! In four days we’ll be seeing Tom Petty.