One Lapse

You’re going to hate me, I just know it… That’s right. I forgot to post yesterday. During Story A Day May. The May during which I am to write one story (and post one blog entry) for each of the 31 days it contains.

And. I. Didn’t.

I’m a failure as a human being and I don’t even deserve to call myself a blogger. Even if only one person reads this blog. Even if I have steadfastly refused to tell anybody about this blog. Despite those things, I call myself (in my own little head) a blogger, and now… Now, who am I to say such LIES?

I’m not actually really upset that I haven’t managed to keep up with this. Honestly, I’m surprised that I only missed one day this far in. I’ll just keep going… I’m trying to learn how to accept my mistakes instead of mull over them for days and not recover. So, yeah, I’m just going to sigh a little big and forget about it, so I can just move past it.

–Oh, gosh. I accidentally found fanfiction of an anime I used to watch. But it was in Spanish, and I only recognized a very few words, so I Google Translated it… I couldn’t ask for anything better.

I logged in to Skype. It’s ten years since I saw her last, I thought, nervously tapping a pen on my computer screen. It’s been three years since we emailed each other… Two years since she found me on Facebook…

And now, it was the day that we’d agreed upon: a Saturday in August when neither party was busy. We would Skype–start with instant messaging, then voice-chat, and then video chat. After that, who knew, maybe we could meet up again. For Starbucks or something.

Two minutes.

Kim was always organized. Well, probably. She wouldn’t be late for their Skype-Date.

I heard the familiar–though still shocking–beep. It was Kim–“HonestAndDumb88–and I answered.

“Hello,” I typed. I deleted it. Thought about it. What would be the best thing to say? The quintessence of my life since I last saw her? A greeting that would sum up everything she needed to know about me.

What, I asked myself, have I been doing this last decade? I looked around my room. I saw a certificate that I got from working with Habitat for Humanity in Argentina one summer. I saw an honor roll ribbon from fifth grade–now a pale, faded blue. There was a glossy print of what appeared to be a clay sculpture. I noticed a paper under my elbow, a 94% on an AP Spanish test from a few years ago.

“?Que pasa, chica?” I clicked enter. All it meant was “What’s up, girl?”, and I decided that it was all I needed to establish myself as a culturally-aware member of twentysomething-year-old society.

Her response: “Verzeihen Sie mir?” and a winky-face.

I had no idea what that meant. She seemed to figure that out, though, saying, “I took German in high school… LOL.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. High school was three years ago. I was done with high school. Why had I brought it up with my stupid AP Spanish test thing?

“Anyway, what’s happening?” I wrote.


It took me a while to figure out that she meant “not much”. I’d never been any good at the whole chatspeak thing.

“Wanna go to voice chat?” I asked.

She agreed and I asked her  to “hold for technical difficulties” while I wrestled my microphone out from my desk drawer. “Okay, Kim! I got it!” I said to the mike.

“Whoa!” she laughed. “Ack, ack, my headphones are turned way the hell up!”

We settled that and got to talking about everything. I learned that she had a lovely boyfriend named Roderick who rode a motorcycle that he was buying from his uncle. I learned that he had acute tuberculosis. I learned that Kim’s friend, Michelle, had coughed all over him while he was so sweetly visiting her in the hospital, which is how he got this tuberculosis.

I learned so much stuff I didn’t care about regarding Kim and her stupid boyfriend. I was starting to wish terrible things upon poor Roderick when Kim–praise the Lord–said, “Oh, shoot, that’s my ride… I have to go now.”

“That’s okay!” I said, maybe a little too quickly.

“Oh, but… Amy, I’m so sorry! I took up all the conversation!”

Yes,  I thought, Yes, you did, you little wench. What I said, however, was, “Oh, don’t worry about it. Maybe we can talk some other–” Wait, that’s not what I wanted at all. I rephrased: “Actually, I’m selling my computer soon. So probably, we won’t be able to talk. Still, it was great catching up with you!”

“Yeah,” said Kim’s chipper voice. “It was great! Bye bye!”

I logged off of Skype, turned off my computer, and slunk deep into my desk chair with a heavy sigh. That hadn’t been worth it at all.

Stupid Kim.


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