Surviving Boredom

A few guys gather on the couch, watching YouTube videos on a shiny, silver macbook. They laugh and shout sporadically, gesturing with enthusiasm at the screen of anonymous entertainment. I sit in my chair, observing the result of two or more boys, in a room, with a laptop. I avoid these moments to little or no avail, always feeling guilty refusing their attempt to entertain me. I've begun to consciously exercise, what I call, my impromptu communication lobe, which is the part of my brain that controls my creative conversation. It causes me to constantly be thinking of something to discuss before the boys resort to YouTube. I almost never win. I've absorbed the fact that when boys feel like they need to capture your attention, they grab a computer to show you a hilarious video. I'm prone to laughing in everyday conversation, which makes it easy for me to produce a giggle or two while they catch my eye with a wide grin, calculating whether or not they've fulfilled some nonexistent quota. The laughing only spurs them on. If you find, or even appear to find the video funny, it is a guaranteed fact that the next one is going to be even funnier.

For now, I sit too far away to be a part of the video fun. I find ways of entertaining myself: texting, facebook, and trying to find a psychological reason for boys to think it's hilarious to watch other boys jerk off. I drift in and out of the conversation, only half listening. I happen to overhear a lesson on the diversity and culture in Cincinnati and around the Globe:

Boy 1: "Oh, does he run on nigger time?"
Boy 2: "Nah, he runs on white nigger time."
Boy 1: "Ah, okay."

I am not sure if either boy knew the precise differences between these two definitions, but it seemed to make perfect sense to them. I hear more racist comments over here because the area is so diverse. The guys describe people in a degrading manner, but seems as if they do it with little malicious intent. It does not excuse how offensive it is, but they speak with such matter-of-fact tones, as if they're describing any everyday, normal activity.

I sat quietly, shaking my head at the exchange of events and rolling my eyes with exasperation. I turned to Trevor who had expressed interest in my travel plans and was very supportive of my adventuring. He and I sat across the coffee table from the couch in separate chairs. Those on the couch were busy watching the latest YouTube videos, and Trevor and I sat, twiddling our thumbs, and making feeble attempts at conversation. I looked over at him and said with mock desperation, "We should be doing something that is cooler than what they're doing, since we're so left out." He chuckled softly and pointed at a discarded sheet of tin foil and said, "You know what we should do? We should take that tin foil and smoke meth out of it." I scoffed at the lack of creativity in his sarcasm. I could come up with many other suggestions before I resort to hard drugs. "Oh, great news," I said dryly. "I've got some right here in my purse." Trevor sat up a little straighter. "Wait do you have meth with you? Like, right now?" I unleashed a twisted smile. "You mean, do I have meth. In my purse. Right now?" My voice is taunting as I try to gauge how serious he's being. "Yeah, do you have it with you right now?" His face is only muddled with a hint of anticipation. "Yes," I smile. "I brought it with me from Oregon, we've got loads of it over there. They pass it out like candy." He looks at me with mingled question and surprise. I resist the urge to roll my eyes again, "No, of course I don't have meth." I felt a little offended as I realized how genuine his question was. He seemed unabashed, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders, and said simply, "You never know, man."

Getting to know people here makes me compare my new acquaintances to my good friends, back home, who are accustomed to my many personality quirks as well as the entire story of my life. It lends a certain amount of freedom that is included (at no extra cost to you) in your adventure package. You are able to control what people know about you, if you wish to do so. I find myself telling countless of stories about home. I have an abundance of happy memories from Oregon, and it is fun to discuss them with my Ohio friends. Exchanging experiences is one of my favorite parts about conversation. It opens up similarities and differences between two people and attempts to connect them.

On Saturday, Brad and Shelby are leaving Ohio to visit my native land: Oregon. I will not be accompanying them, therefore Bradley is leaving me his keys and I will be loose in the city of Cincinnati. I plan to have a new destination and goal every day. It could be anywhere from the Public Library, local shops and restaurants, to surrounding cities and places in Ohio. My goals will be focused on the people I meet. I will observe and document according to the conversations I find myself in. I will treat this exercise like a learning experience for me in my adventure, as well as a way to develop myself as a writer. I will be updating my blog about every two days. It could be short, long, or extra boring. There are no real perimeters, I will simply be writing down my experiences. Hopefully, I'll be like Mia in the book series, The Princess Diaries. She is always writing and people get irritated at her. I want to annoy everyone in a similar way.