I'm currently using my graduation form as a bookmark.
3.25.2010
3.21.2010
Her trivia are priceless.
"First day, $2. Second day, $4. Third day, you keep the movie, we keep your $10."
3.07.2010
March 7, 1988
G reat Scott! It's your birthday! I'm sure you've just been
R ambling through the great city of Seville (and others) and having all sorts of
A dventures, (like eating pigs' feet! Gross!) but I just want you to know that today you should be
C utting a rug (that means dancing) and skipping because not only are you getting this
I nternet birthday shout-out, but all the Spaniards are in the streets, yelling, "Senorita Vanessha!
E s su cumpleaños!!"
3.04.2010
2.28.2010
Jogdream
Most people lose themselves in their iPod while they jog. Downbeat, right foot. While I'm typically plugged in, the beat dies out after a few miles. Enter the Jogdream. It's not merely a daydream because I have to conjure up enough emotion to distract my mind from my body. Sometimes it's anger but typically the strongest emotion comes from a jogdream infused with sadness or fierce injustice. It's always simple, with plenty of leeway for details that can be worked into each succeeding retelling as I add on miles.
The latest one was mostly just morbid. But it worked. MapMyRun = 4.82.
My right hand was pulled back into my sleeve, clutching my iPod. My keys, the whole keyring, was looped on my pinky. I'm running across gravel, not paying any attention to my footing. I trip. Of course. Hand slams into a rock, driving a single key through my hand. From what N* has said about punctures, I do not remove it. Calmly, probably in shock, I knock on the door of a house. "Sorry-- Could you call 911? I think I need to go to the hospital."
The ambulance ride is a blur. Seated on a doctor's table, a nurse asks me for insurance. I ask her to call my mom. The nurse leaves and I sit alone, waiting for the doctor to come. I hate hospitals.
Surgery is performed. Nothing seriously damaged but there is a large bandage on my hand. A bored nurse at the front desk checks me out. I stand sheepishly in the lobby for awhile before asking if I can use the phone.
No one answers at home in Indiana. I hang up and walk out the front door. Then I walk home.
I don't know anyone's phone number. Without my cellphone, I couldn't call J* or N*....not even the HTs. There is no one to pick me up.
Replay.
The latest one was mostly just morbid. But it worked. MapMyRun = 4.82.
My right hand was pulled back into my sleeve, clutching my iPod. My keys, the whole keyring, was looped on my pinky. I'm running across gravel, not paying any attention to my footing. I trip. Of course. Hand slams into a rock, driving a single key through my hand. From what N* has said about punctures, I do not remove it. Calmly, probably in shock, I knock on the door of a house. "Sorry-- Could you call 911? I think I need to go to the hospital."
The ambulance ride is a blur. Seated on a doctor's table, a nurse asks me for insurance. I ask her to call my mom. The nurse leaves and I sit alone, waiting for the doctor to come. I hate hospitals.
Surgery is performed. Nothing seriously damaged but there is a large bandage on my hand. A bored nurse at the front desk checks me out. I stand sheepishly in the lobby for awhile before asking if I can use the phone.
No one answers at home in Indiana. I hang up and walk out the front door. Then I walk home.
I don't know anyone's phone number. Without my cellphone, I couldn't call J* or N*....not even the HTs. There is no one to pick me up.
Replay.
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