Chasing Seagulls











{March 16, 2009}   Chasing Seagulls

When I was going to write the book of my life, I was going to name it Chasing Seagulls. Of course, as interesting as I think my life has been, I know that other people might not think it’s that big a deal. So writing up my experiences in a blog saves me the embarrassment of finding out that no one would be interested in my life, while still giving me the joy of putting it all down on…screen. Or whatever. Also, the people in my life have all heard these stories and are tired of me repeating them when I forget that…yeah, I told you this one. So, here goes.

The title comes from a night I spent out when I was sixteen. I had just started smoking weed two days before and this was day three. I was hanging out with the guy that I had lost my virginity to earlier that day (I’ll call him A.) and a couple of other guys that we had picked up while driving around (a fat guy and an albino). We all sat out in A.’s car in the parking lot of his apartment complex and greenhoused two joints. This got me higher than I had ever been previously, so the following hours were little more than a blur. I remember walking through the woods and coming upon some kids hanging out in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, and how A. held my hand to keep me from falling (sigh).

We rode around for awhile until everyone needed to pee, so we stopped at a grocery store to use their bathroom. The bathroom was in the back of the store, up a flight of stairs that was dark and dank. It reminded me of some kind of Nazi torture chamber (remember, very high). After using the bathroom and finding out that, yes, I really had lost my virginity (the girls understand), I began the looong walk back. I was walking down the aisle and it seemed that I just kept passing food. It was everywhere. Miles and miles of packaged food. It was the longest walk of my life…

When I got back outside, the big guy and the albino were waiting. A. came screeching up in the car and yells, “Get in! I’m chasing seagulls!”
Seagulls? How could that be? There was no sea.sanderling.jpg

We got in the car and soon realized what A. had meant. Dude was stoned. There were a bunch of little, tiny birds scattered across the parking lot. A. would creep up on them in the car and when they would turn to look at him, he would stop. As soon as he got close enough, he would floor the gas and try to run them over.

Awful, right? I was torn between thinking that it was a sick thing to do and watching how much fun he was having. Fortunately for the birds, he got bored quickly. I don’t think he actually killed any, but I wouldn’t have wanted to think so.

Saying all that, there’s no hidden meaning behind the title. It’s just a story that I remember from an interesting day in my youth. I’ve tried to find some kind of meaning in it, and if it’s anything, it’s that I have led my life haphazardly with no real direction. I don’t know what I want out of life, but I know how I want to feel. There’s no point in planning anything, because life just happens. If I’m happy at the end of the day, that’s all that matters to me.



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