When I was in undergrad I used to go to the Country Kitchen that was within walking distance of my dorm by myself. Once in a great while I'd get up semi-early on a Sunday (that was Boston Cream Muffin day), pack my backpack with some homework or a good book, and make the often-snowy trek to the restaurant unaccompanied.

Whenever I'd tell the smiling ( Read more... )

"Oh my God, what did I do?"

Sarah

Heh.

No one on the same day, but quite a few favorite famous faces (and personal heroes) around there:


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John Lennon was shot exactly one year, two months, and sixteen days before I was born. I used to daydream about what things would've been like if he was still with us.

I cried when Steve Irwin died. I mourned him for almost a week. I still have trouble watching Crocodile Hunter.

...but...

I was twelve years old when Kurt Cobain died.

I grew up in a ( Read more... )

A crooked smile
My clothes smell like today's dogs
My Shaggy Boy laughs

Again I waken
And through myopic focus
I see him beaming

Hot breath assaults skin
And under perfect azure skies
I dream of thunder.

I could write haikus all day. Instead, I am going to continue working on my thesis proposal.

Sarah

 OK, I had to do this one.

I would take this kid and his family out to lunch with my mom.

Correction: I would prepare lunch for this kid. We would have chicken or tuna, steamed carrots, and I might risk grapes again. Everyone else can order a pizza. The moms would probably get a kick out of chatting with each other. Then we'd all go to Disneyland.

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