SUMMER, où êtes-vous??
Il pleut pendant trois jours cette semaine. J'ai sommeil souvent parce que il fait froid. Hier je suis allée a l'ecole très en retard avec marc, un copain qui prend le bus avec moi tous les matins. Normalement nous ne soignons pas arriver à l'heure ou soyons ponctuels et allons au centre commercial près de notre école pour manger le petit déjeuner (parfois pour rire aux vieux gens). Mais il y a un petit problem: Si nous sommes en retard CE MATIN, notre dernier matin, nous ne graduons pas l'école secondaire. Nous allons paraître stupides to the world.
À Marc, Je l'ai dit, "C'est deux îlotage (blocks?) loin de l'école, le trafic est mauvais, nous avons six minutes, nous pourrions être en retard... VEUX-TU COURIR À L'ÉCOLE?? ?"
Il y a une rivière près de mon école (une rivière verte, je ne sais pas pourquoi), signifiant que nous devons courir sur un grand pont. L'herbe mouillée, ma jupe blanche, et l'air froid entrant mes poumons. Deux minutes.
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Walking down the street yesterday, a stranger offered me his jacket. Politely refusing, I thanked him and continued walking. My teeth chattered as my hands enveloped each other to perserve warmth. All of the sudden, I was extremely, extremely mad.
"PUT YOUR JACKET BACK ON, I DO NOT WANT YOUR JACKET," I scolded at him.
"But you're cold," the stranger answered, his black jacket half way off.
"MY HANDS ARE COLD, it's a natural reaction to cold weather." Without even listening, he draped his jacket around my shoulders.
"WHAT. THE FUCK." I stopped abruptly and dropped his jacket on to the ground. "Do not put your fucking jacket on me. Respect my decision."
"What?" he seemed puzzeled and complained idiotically. "See? You're trying to do something nice for someone and they just go out and say no."
"No, this is unacceptable. I did NOT want your jacket. Respect my decision."
I wanted to punch him. I wanted to fucking smack the fuck out of him. Besides the fact that he touched me without my permission, he invaded my personal space. And what is this? A fucking gender role? Why don't you offer a fucking homeless person on the street your fucking jacket. Don't fucking speak to me.
Anyway, I met a stranger yesterday and decided to skipped my downtown class with the Depaul University student. We visited the cultural center and an expensive sandwich shop, talking for 2 hours, doodling on napkins. He found me interesting, "weird" ("if you're not weird, you have no sense of reality" he said, "because then you're just plain."), different and amusing.
Anyway, I felt extremely awkward after he hugged me good bye. I hated him almost. I dislike being touched unless I know the person for 4 months. A little weird quirk I have. Anyone who fucking touched me without my permission, my hatred will bloom.
À Marc, Je l'ai dit, "C'est deux îlotage (blocks?) loin de l'école, le trafic est mauvais, nous avons six minutes, nous pourrions être en retard... VEUX-TU COURIR À L'ÉCOLE?? ?"
Il y a une rivière près de mon école (une rivière verte, je ne sais pas pourquoi), signifiant que nous devons courir sur un grand pont. L'herbe mouillée, ma jupe blanche, et l'air froid entrant mes poumons. Deux minutes.
-----------
Walking down the street yesterday, a stranger offered me his jacket. Politely refusing, I thanked him and continued walking. My teeth chattered as my hands enveloped each other to perserve warmth. All of the sudden, I was extremely, extremely mad.
"PUT YOUR JACKET BACK ON, I DO NOT WANT YOUR JACKET," I scolded at him.
"But you're cold," the stranger answered, his black jacket half way off.
"MY HANDS ARE COLD, it's a natural reaction to cold weather." Without even listening, he draped his jacket around my shoulders.
"WHAT. THE FUCK." I stopped abruptly and dropped his jacket on to the ground. "Do not put your fucking jacket on me. Respect my decision."
"What?" he seemed puzzeled and complained idiotically. "See? You're trying to do something nice for someone and they just go out and say no."
"No, this is unacceptable. I did NOT want your jacket. Respect my decision."
I wanted to punch him. I wanted to fucking smack the fuck out of him. Besides the fact that he touched me without my permission, he invaded my personal space. And what is this? A fucking gender role? Why don't you offer a fucking homeless person on the street your fucking jacket. Don't fucking speak to me.
Anyway, I met a stranger yesterday and decided to skipped my downtown class with the Depaul University student. We visited the cultural center and an expensive sandwich shop, talking for 2 hours, doodling on napkins. He found me interesting, "weird" ("if you're not weird, you have no sense of reality" he said, "because then you're just plain."), different and amusing.
Anyway, I felt extremely awkward after he hugged me good bye. I hated him almost. I dislike being touched unless I know the person for 4 months. A little weird quirk I have. Anyone who fucking touched me without my permission, my hatred will bloom.