Moving Right Along

 

Just as I was finishing up my shower, something broke and it started spewing water everywhere. I couldn’t fix it on the first try and I got really frustrated, so I ran outside and caught the ice cream man. Ice cream fixes everything.

My ice cream cone is pink, and I didn’t even ask for that! Maybe this won’t be such a bad day after all.

There’s nothing to do at home. I can't even buy books unless I start selling all my stolen junk. That's kind of against the whole point, plus selling stolen goods is NOT territory I want to venture into. Reading the newspaper doesn’t take very long. So I went to my old favorite hangout. It’s nice to go where everybody knows your name where nobody remembers your name but they soon will.

I took this picture just because I thought it was cute. There are never enough cute cat pictures, right?

The people-watching on my street is as good as I remembered. 

The Kennedy’s and the Alvi’s still live across the street. The Alvi’s place has so much rusted out junk outside that it still looks like it belongs in the Appalachians. The Kennedy’s place is still as busy as ever. One of them got a dog.

Tonight I tried for a table. I’m getting tired of holding my plate on my lap like I’m at a cocktail party. What do you suppose I got? Another stove!

I’m not really complaining. It’s the best stove I’ve seen in any store. Top of the line. It’s even self-cleaning. Thank goodness for that, because I’m terminally lazy and I hate housework.

Making Friends

This is Caroline. Isn’t she gorgeous?

I first saw her when she entered the library with her little girl in her arms, and walked right into the wall. Talk about clumsy. She got my attention right away. She’s just got to be interesting.

She got bored with our conversation and started reading a book. So I went right over to her house and stole her stove. Ha ha! I kill myself.

 

 

See the red circle I drew where the stove was? Her husband didn’t even notice. Maybe he’s not too bright.

She actually called me on the phone while I was there and we had a nice chat. I couldn’t make this shit up.

 

“I’m in your house stealing your stuff!”

 

I hope she gets a new one. After all, I want to make friends with her. I like the stove, though. It’s better than my old one, and I don’t burn food quite as often.

 

Learning to Steal

 

I’m not really a good thief. In fact, I suck at it.

At first I stole a lot of chairs. No tables, just chairs.

 

A LOT of chairs. And clocks.

 

I’m getting better, slowly. This is what I stole tonight.

It’s a marble fountain. Pretty, isn’t it?

Introductions and Stuff

 

Hi. I’m Zayne.

 

I love pink, I love men, and I never, ever wear shoes.

 

When I was just shaking off my teens, I moved to a tiny house in a quaint little town called Sunset Valley. Think Mayberry with slightly better night spots. I was overcome with lust for anything with a Y chromosome, and a driving ambition to become Sunset Valley’s next big rock star.

 

Oh, I forgot. Here’s an old picture of me.

 

 

I did it, too. I made it to the big time. I was rich and famous. Pretty cool, huh?

 

I fell in love with this gorgeous soccer star named Travis. What a hunk that guy was. Sigh. He made it into the big time, too. But he also made it into the world of drugs and lowlife friends. He turned out to be a big jackass who drained the bank accounts and left me. Dick.

 

I became so depressed that it was kind of like PTSD or something. My own career tanked and I couldn’t seem to drag myself out of the hole. Seems I couldn’t handle it either, when life got too real.

 

I tried moving to the big city with the emergency funds Travis hadn’t known about. I had the idea that with what was left of my pop star rep, I’d meet some people and form a band. Become a star again.

 

That didn’t go as planned. Turns out that being a big fish in a little pond doesn’t cut it in the big city. I couldn’t get into any of the cool clubs, I couldn’t meet anybody, I couldn’t make any connections.

 

I won a trip to France in a giveaway, so I lived there for a while. It was beautiful. I don’t have any pictures to show of my time there because I lost my digital camera and I had never printed out my pictures. Someday I want to go back.

 

I was depressed, jobless, and hungry. A lot of people have gardens over there, it’s a thing, and I started taking fruits and vegetables. I told myself not to think of it as stealing, I thought of it as surviving. I ate some and I sold some. Take my advice. Don’t try to make a living that way.

 

I had pretty much run out of options, and like a homing pigeon I came home to Sunset Valley. It’s a place I’m familiar with, and that’s comforting. Out of nostalgia, I moved into the same little house I started my whole journey in.

 

Here’s what came of it. I got to like the stealing. There’s a rush from getting away with it. There’s a sense of normalcy from owning something again. I dunno. The edibles were my gateway drug. The real quirk is that I can’t seem to control WHAT I steal. Or how frequently I steal.

 

My shrink mostly just sits there and nods and takes notes. This irritates me. However, he did say that this might be my leftover desire to be a law-abiding citizen fighting with my new love of being a second story man. He also said it would be good for me to start a new blog. Get in touch with myself again, or some psychobabble.

 

This is me now.

 

I guess that’s about it for the introductions. Let’s get back to living. Zayne’s back, people!