Day by Day

Chapter 5- Absolute

When I was sixteen, I somehow got dragged to this really boring museum. Apparently it was supposed to be top notch and really interesting, but I beg to disagree.

It cost ten dollars for admission into the museam; I will always consider it to be a complete waste of money as well as my time.

I remember sitting on a bench for a good share of the time while my companions poured their time over every single little artifact.

Don't get me wrong, I realize that the things in museums are an important part of my history, but it is so boring to wait while people just read all the signs and essays about the museum's relics. Maybe museums just aren't my thing.

I am totally guilty of... well yeah, doing some unusual things when sitting at a museum. I'm not going to admit to everything, but in the past I have 'played' with a few of the 'don't touch' items. Once I even set off an alarm. Oppsies.

When we left the musem, I took note of the musem guy at the front desk who sold us our tickets. He had this big computer in front of him; when I came in, I couldn't see what was on the computer screen, but now I could.

The computer was focused in on like thirty video cameras that were placed through out the museum. I honestly didn't know why anyone would possibly want to spend their entire day staring at people via video cameras. In a way, it was kind of stalkerish.

But then again, the musem guy got to see people do the things that they did when they didn't know anyone was watching, and I actually found that to be rather interesting.

What is it that I do when I don't think anyone is watching?

When people think they are alone, they will do all sorts of entrancing or riveting things. The guy at the museum probably saw that couple making out in the elevator; he probably saw that one kid pick his nose too.

I have had some of my worst and best moments alone. Somehow, I feel that you can really learn a lot about a person by how they act when they think they are alone.

****

 People like me do not belong at places like the mall. They really don't. In fact, there should be some guard creeping by the door at all hours just to keep me out.

I hate shopping. Yeah, that is quite unusual for a girl, but I just can't stand it. It is so boring and such a waste of my perfectly good time. And besides, what is the point of spending all my time trying on and wanting clothes when I know I can't afford it all. I hate wasting my time on things that I can never have. But for some reason unknown to mankind, my dear friend Konnie just had to drag me to the mall.

 She said we needed new swimsuits. Apparently it is imperative that we look fantastic as we waddle on the beach, but there is no way I am going to prance around in a skimpy bikini just for the sake of looking atractive. Konnie should really know me better by now.

Anyways, like I said, I have a strong dislike for shopping. I just fail to relate with other females in their enjoyment for that activity. But I know Konnie pretty well too. So here I am, in the stupid mall, trying my best to be supportive as my friend looks at this ridiculously ugly swimsuit.

 "What about this one?" Konnie is tearing through racks of clothing. She holds up this bikini that is colored pinkish, orangish, and yellowish.

I squinted at it. "What color is it trying to be?"

Konnie chose to ignore that comment. "I think it's pretty. It'd look good on you."

"Me?" I almost fell over. "There is nothing to it. I would't even call it a real swimsuit. It would barely fit a kindergartner."