[2006]
best not-a-planet: Pluto
best live musical: Into the Woods
best coast: West Coast
best leadership team: Team Poseidon Pete
best previously undiscovered talent: Go-Kart Racing
best cousin: Joel Maynard
best short-term roomies: Dani, Lily, and Rach
best birthday: Twenty-One
best book: Reading Lolita in Tehran [azar nafisi]
best end: The End [lemony snicket]
best memory: Summer Adventure Day
best city visited: New York City
best school: Summer School
best house: The Blue House
best new tradition: Monday Morning Campfire Breakfasts
best summer flick: Scoop
best other flick: Stranger Than Fiction
best bond: Casino Royale
best tv: The Office
best drink: Portland Water
best new tv: Heroes
best dance: Modern Dance
best coffee drink: Albina Press Latte
best shoes: Moccasins
best lost tradition: Bread Bowls at DJ's
best ballroom: Crystal Ballroom
best betsy: Betsy Maynard
best "the wake" activity: Bluegrass Night
best voice: Patrick
best non-awkward hug: Andrew
best awkward hug: JohnDavid
best waste of time: Myspace
best indulgence: Splash
best hall: Lower West
best new sport: Snowshoeing
best not-an-olympic-sport: Guitar Hero
best hat: Blue Anchor Hat
best falls: Bridal Veil Falls
best singing: Singing Harmony
best purchase: Plane Tickets to Europe
best pirating adventure: Night Kayaking
best hair: Abbie Maynard
best lake: Lake Ontario
best new title: Head RA
best laugh: Katie Holley
best couch: The Statehouse Couch
best stylist: Justin at Salon in Vogue
best foreign food: Indian
best style: Audree Heath
best new career given up: Dancer
best way: Hemingway
best jeans: The Magic Free Levi's
best technological indulgence: Skypecam
best ring: The Spoon Ring
best stationary: Korean Stationary with Bad English Translations
best museum: Cloisters
best class: Short Story Genre Study with Dr Somerville
best village: Greenwich Village
best life metaphor: A Sandwich
best game: Apples to Apples
best thursday: Last Thursday
best addiction: Books
best challenge: The Poetry Challenge
best starbucks: Fifteenth and Freemont
best farm: The Heath Ranch
best roadtrip: Memorial Day Trip with Joel [and our feet out the window]
best skirt: The ZaZen Birthday Skirt
best family: Mine
best theme song: Taking the Long Way - Dixie Chicks
best pet: Hermes the Lucky Bamboo
best shirt: The Rain Shirt
best trend: Hair Ribbons
best smile: A Cheesy Smile
best poet: Emily Dickinson
best brush: A Toothbrush
best reminder: Love is Different than You Think
best reunion: Intern Reunions [both of them]
best airport: PDX
best blues: Adam
That was my favorite year.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Friday, December 29, 2006
barely ever...
I rarely blog. It makes me sad.
My Christmas Break Reading List [check the updated list. two more should be completed soon!] has been taking up a lot of the time I don't spend doing exciting things like working ["temp! temp! temp! temp!"], having the flu and staying in bed for five days, sleeping, hanging with my family, swing dancing, or making new friends [i have not spent nearly enough time with the old ones, either].
Writing takes a lot of time; I feel like I'm out of practice and form. Do I seriously just not have as much creative energy or is it the lack of emo thoughts about life and school?
I am content.
I should also probably take more pictures. Those always give me something to say. I only have 16 days left. I plan on making the most of my Portland time.
The blog isn't dead. I still enjoy writing. Updates might not be quite as frequent, but they shall appear. If you ever need insights into my daily foolishness, you can always try my white board blog.
But hopefully, we can sit down soon [over a cup of coffee] and ponder aloud the wonders of the city, the world, and our Savior.
My Christmas Break Reading List [check the updated list. two more should be completed soon!] has been taking up a lot of the time I don't spend doing exciting things like working ["temp! temp! temp! temp!"], having the flu and staying in bed for five days, sleeping, hanging with my family, swing dancing, or making new friends [i have not spent nearly enough time with the old ones, either].
Writing takes a lot of time; I feel like I'm out of practice and form. Do I seriously just not have as much creative energy or is it the lack of emo thoughts about life and school?
I am content.
I should also probably take more pictures. Those always give me something to say. I only have 16 days left. I plan on making the most of my Portland time.
The blog isn't dead. I still enjoy writing. Updates might not be quite as frequent, but they shall appear. If you ever need insights into my daily foolishness, you can always try my white board blog.
But hopefully, we can sit down soon [over a cup of coffee] and ponder aloud the wonders of the city, the world, and our Savior.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
holiday reading...
The Ambitious List
italics indicate completion
* indicates in-progress
East of Eden [john steinbeck] - 601
A Wild Sheep Chase [haruki murakami] - 353
Peace Like a River [leif enger] - 305
Crime and Punishment [fyodor dosoevesky] - 576
My Antonia [willa cather] - 266
*A Soldier of the Great War [mark helprin]
Gilead [marilyn robinson]
The Crossing [cormac mccarthy]
The Innocents Abroad [mark twain]
Daisy Miller [henry james]
Juneteenth [ralph ellison]
*The Short Stories [ernest hemingway]
*Collection of Stories [edgar allen poe]
*Eight American Poets [various]
italics indicate completion
* indicates in-progress
East of Eden [john steinbeck] - 601
A Wild Sheep Chase [haruki murakami] - 353
Peace Like a River [leif enger] - 305
Crime and Punishment [fyodor dosoevesky] - 576
My Antonia [willa cather] - 266
*A Soldier of the Great War [mark helprin]
Gilead [marilyn robinson]
The Crossing [cormac mccarthy]
The Innocents Abroad [mark twain]
Daisy Miller [henry james]
Juneteenth [ralph ellison]
*The Short Stories [ernest hemingway]
*Collection of Stories [edgar allen poe]
*Eight American Poets [various]
Monday, December 18, 2006
time is confused...
I've been home since Thursday afternoon [surprise!], yet still strangely unsure of what timezone I'm in. Maybe Christmas break is in its own, floating universe without a set timezone. So far, I've been waking up at around 8 am, but I'm tired long before 10 pm. Right now, a nasty battle with somethingerother [which i sincerely hope isn't the flu, but the fever, cough, headache, sudden symptoms, and muscle pain seems to suggest otherwise] has me awake since 4 am. I'm tired after only five hours, but not enough to sleep. I think the fact that I spent about 7 hours in bed yesterday might have something to do with it. [there are a lot of numbers in this post, have you noticed?]
School finished up normally well. I was sad not to have a gap day to goof off and catch up with people before we left for break. All of my finals were on the last three days, so I had just enough time to panic. They all went well except for Mythology [the last one], but that class was simply insane anyway. The professor was nearly an hour late to the exam, so he gave us a few extra points [on a section which didn't help me much, unfortunantly]. Maybe his 300 lb cat [named Zeus, naturally] will spill coffee on my exam again and he'll have to give me an a...there's a thought!
As much as we've all changed, it's good to have friends here at home. My sisters are graciously bringing me along to many of their social gatherings, so I'm spreading the charm and far from lonely. It's also good to see my family. I feel much more settled here than this summer; the separation is perhaps a little more defined.
Projects this break include: the ambitious book list, sorting through the remaining junk [debate trophies from 2001?] I have stashed in my room [now occupied by amygrace], house sitting, starting a knitting project, memorizing at least a couple more sections of Psalm 119, improving my swing dancing, finding a short-term job so I can afford europe for spring break, and entertaining the fabulous Mary Twist when she arrives for a couple of days in January.
Give me a call. I'm here til the 14th and cannot wait to spend time with you. As soon as I beat this illness, that is...
School finished up normally well. I was sad not to have a gap day to goof off and catch up with people before we left for break. All of my finals were on the last three days, so I had just enough time to panic. They all went well except for Mythology [the last one], but that class was simply insane anyway. The professor was nearly an hour late to the exam, so he gave us a few extra points [on a section which didn't help me much, unfortunantly]. Maybe his 300 lb cat [named Zeus, naturally] will spill coffee on my exam again and he'll have to give me an a...there's a thought!
As much as we've all changed, it's good to have friends here at home. My sisters are graciously bringing me along to many of their social gatherings, so I'm spreading the charm and far from lonely. It's also good to see my family. I feel much more settled here than this summer; the separation is perhaps a little more defined.
Projects this break include: the ambitious book list, sorting through the remaining junk [debate trophies from 2001?] I have stashed in my room [now occupied by amygrace], house sitting, starting a knitting project, memorizing at least a couple more sections of Psalm 119, improving my swing dancing, finding a short-term job so I can afford europe for spring break, and entertaining the fabulous Mary Twist when she arrives for a couple of days in January.
Give me a call. I'm here til the 14th and cannot wait to spend time with you. As soon as I beat this illness, that is...
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
watch your back, bond...
Congrats to us for finishing classes! Finals are Friday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Tonight, when Mary, Hannah, and I found ourselves with two hours to kill and not really wanting to take yet another nap, Hannah says, "let's play dress up!"
So we did. 
So we did.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
niagara falls...
One of several Sunday detours was a quick jaunt to Canada and back. Did you know that you have to pay a 50 cent walking bridge toll to get back to America? Down at the Horseshoe falls, the heavy mist [you nwesterners know what i'm talking about] makes everything eternally damp. It's cool, but the rest is kind of like Las Vegas: you can see the attraction, but you can't really understand it. I tried to imagine the Falls in their glory days in the fifties, when wood-paneled station wagons and family camping trips to national parks ruled the world.
the pair
the american falls
the canadian falls
yeah, that's a bike
the pair
the american falls
the canadian falls
yeah, that's a bike
Monday, November 27, 2006
for allison...
More pictures will continue to appear as I get them...and don't worry, you'll see the rest of them over break! I didn't take as many pictures as expected, I was too busy looking at everything.
This is one of the "black buildings" still under repairs from the World Trade Center attacks. This is more impressive than the actual site. They're building a new tower there and the space is too large to capture in a single picture.
Downtown Manhattan, from the Staten Island ferry
Lady Liberty
This is one of the "black buildings" still under repairs from the World Trade Center attacks. This is more impressive than the actual site. They're building a new tower there and the space is too large to capture in a single picture.
Downtown Manhattan, from the Staten Island ferry
Lady Liberty
Saturday, November 25, 2006
upstate...
On Friday, we headed Upstate [and overstate] to Rochester.
feet along lake ontario
jemmy the rock-eating wonder dog
into the great unknown
where the sky meets the great lakes
feet along lake ontario
jemmy the rock-eating wonder dog
into the great unknown
where the sky meets the great lakes
new yorker style...
"Real Original New York Pizza" in Times Square for all you The Office fans 
Hannah's street in Greenwich Village
On the freezing, windy, Staten Island Ferry. I have never been so cold in my life, but we saw the Statue of Liberty! 
Not the best picture of Hannah and Joel, but the guy on the left is the really hot German tourist I stalked the whole ride out and back...
uptown girls...
emily at tiffany's
the uptown dress
guess what hannah and i want for christmas!
they have some pretty intense snow flakes on fifth avenue
Saturday, November 18, 2006
forget april...
November is the cruelest month.
I've won a few [$1000 in an essay scholarship contest] and lost a few [student federation campaign]. I've cried a little [poor pam!] and laughed a lot [oh, dwight!]. I've had alone time [hi, God] and plenty of friends time [midnight adventures in the arb, anyone?]. I've turned in plenty of homework [yay good grades] and had plenty of free time [i'm done with all my reading for the year, and only three papers left!]. I have had a lot to say [in person] but not much to blog [neglected would be an understatement].
You wouldn't believe me if I told you...Let's just say that college is amazing. It is so good for me to be two thousand miles from home. I am becoming the girl I want to be. It's difficult and always uphill, but I like a challenge. I like life the same way I like my literature: something you have to sink your teeth into.
I'm thinking that a week in NYC [starting tomorrow] might get at least some pictures on here. Some words would be great, too, though. I guess some days life is just too big to live and recreate on a blog. Every day seems like a week, and yet, it's that point in the semester where everything is same-old-same-old.
My two most frequent classes are almost always disappointing these days, with professors wasting way too much time on things that don't apply and don't have any life impact. It's frustrating. I've never had to work so hard to get myself to go to classes and too many notebook pages are filled with doodles of my name [and yours] rather than actual information. My favorite class, Jewish Lit, is mostly amazing because of the reading we do outside of our once-a-week meetings. I've never had a class that has brought up so many life questions or forced me to think outside of my normal everyday life. I'm excited for my Christmas Break Reading List. It'll be a doozy, so I think I should get a prize if I get through it all:
Gilead [marilyn robinson]
A Soldier of the Great War [mark helprin]
Peace Like a River [leif enger]
East of Eden [john steinbeck]
The Crossing [cormac mccarthy]
*The Short Stories [ernest hemingway]
*Collection of Stories [edgar allen poe]
*Eight American Poets [various]
[* indicates book is in progress]
If that doesn't keep me busy for four weeks, I'm not sure what will...Oh, I might need a job, too.
The weather has been flirting with us, but no real snow yet. I'm ready for it. If it's going to be this cold, I want there to be snow on the ground.
Anyway, I'm off to Manhattan tomorrow for an entire week to visit the World Trade Center Memorial, go to a jazz club, see a Broadway show, the Thanksgiving Day Parade, Times Square, Central Park, and the Statue of Liberty. Oh, and possibly sit in a corner cafe with a copy of Pride and Prejudice and a red rose to see if my Joe Fox walks through the door...
I've won a few [$1000 in an essay scholarship contest] and lost a few [student federation campaign]. I've cried a little [poor pam!] and laughed a lot [oh, dwight!]. I've had alone time [hi, God] and plenty of friends time [midnight adventures in the arb, anyone?]. I've turned in plenty of homework [yay good grades] and had plenty of free time [i'm done with all my reading for the year, and only three papers left!]. I have had a lot to say [in person] but not much to blog [neglected would be an understatement].
You wouldn't believe me if I told you...Let's just say that college is amazing. It is so good for me to be two thousand miles from home. I am becoming the girl I want to be. It's difficult and always uphill, but I like a challenge. I like life the same way I like my literature: something you have to sink your teeth into.
I'm thinking that a week in NYC [starting tomorrow] might get at least some pictures on here. Some words would be great, too, though. I guess some days life is just too big to live and recreate on a blog. Every day seems like a week, and yet, it's that point in the semester where everything is same-old-same-old.
My two most frequent classes are almost always disappointing these days, with professors wasting way too much time on things that don't apply and don't have any life impact. It's frustrating. I've never had to work so hard to get myself to go to classes and too many notebook pages are filled with doodles of my name [and yours] rather than actual information. My favorite class, Jewish Lit, is mostly amazing because of the reading we do outside of our once-a-week meetings. I've never had a class that has brought up so many life questions or forced me to think outside of my normal everyday life. I'm excited for my Christmas Break Reading List. It'll be a doozy, so I think I should get a prize if I get through it all:
Gilead [marilyn robinson]
A Soldier of the Great War [mark helprin]
Peace Like a River [leif enger]
East of Eden [john steinbeck]
The Crossing [cormac mccarthy]
*The Short Stories [ernest hemingway]
*Collection of Stories [edgar allen poe]
*Eight American Poets [various]
[* indicates book is in progress]
If that doesn't keep me busy for four weeks, I'm not sure what will...Oh, I might need a job, too.
The weather has been flirting with us, but no real snow yet. I'm ready for it. If it's going to be this cold, I want there to be snow on the ground.
Anyway, I'm off to Manhattan tomorrow for an entire week to visit the World Trade Center Memorial, go to a jazz club, see a Broadway show, the Thanksgiving Day Parade, Times Square, Central Park, and the Statue of Liberty. Oh, and possibly sit in a corner cafe with a copy of Pride and Prejudice and a red rose to see if my Joe Fox walks through the door...
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
good thing...
Sure is a good thing it's raining, because I am in the mood to burn something down. I think I slept too long last night. I wish I could take a nap. or hide.
Not even my adorable new blue-green lace hair scarf is helping.
it's been one of those kinds of days
and i feel so out of place
and i hate everything,
everything but You.
Not even my adorable new blue-green lace hair scarf is helping.
it's been one of those kinds of days
and i feel so out of place
and i hate everything,
everything but You.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
costumey...
The second annual McIntyre Halloween Party was pretty sweet. We were visited by neighborhood children and plenty of creative costumes. I am still scrubbing glitter off my face.
This is Gabe, my favorite little terrorist. Bet you didn't know I babysit Spiderman!
Janay and Kayla are my suitemates, little sisters, and occasionally, my children. Tonight, they were pretty ghetto. Yes, their faces match their personalities.
Just a few of the McIntyre RAs: Old Man Brenna, Princess and the Pea Mary, Christmas Cheer Emily, Thug Hannah, and Morning Rebekah
The best way to spread Christmas Cheer is singing loud for all to hear!
This is Gabe, my favorite little terrorist. Bet you didn't know I babysit Spiderman!
Janay and Kayla are my suitemates, little sisters, and occasionally, my children. Tonight, they were pretty ghetto. Yes, their faces match their personalities.
Just a few of the McIntyre RAs: Old Man Brenna, Princess and the Pea Mary, Christmas Cheer Emily, Thug Hannah, and Morning Rebekah
The best way to spread Christmas Cheer is singing loud for all to hear!
Monday, October 30, 2006
no. 2 pencils...
I am voting today.
Let me just say once again how cool it is that I'm a twenty-first century woman who can study anything she wants at any college and can vote. God knew what He was doing when He made me a modern girl.
I seriously love voting. However, I have this strange feeling that it isn't for the right reasons. I do enjoy voicing my democratic opinion in Oregon's initiative process, choosing [between Uhhh...Maybe Okay, Not So Much, and Ha Ha...No.] for my elected officials, and carefully making important decisions for my country.
But even more than that, I really enjoy filling in the little ovals.
I think maybe it carries back to the excitement of standardized testing all through grade school. I'm really quite talented with instructions like "use a pencil or blue ink pen" and "completely fill in the oval to the left of the response of your choice" [too many prepositional phrases on the ballot? hmmm...]
And this time, there are no wrong answers.
Let me just say once again how cool it is that I'm a twenty-first century woman who can study anything she wants at any college and can vote. God knew what He was doing when He made me a modern girl.
I seriously love voting. However, I have this strange feeling that it isn't for the right reasons. I do enjoy voicing my democratic opinion in Oregon's initiative process, choosing [between Uhhh...Maybe Okay, Not So Much, and Ha Ha...No.] for my elected officials, and carefully making important decisions for my country.
But even more than that, I really enjoy filling in the little ovals.
I think maybe it carries back to the excitement of standardized testing all through grade school. I'm really quite talented with instructions like "use a pencil or blue ink pen" and "completely fill in the oval to the left of the response of your choice" [too many prepositional phrases on the ballot? hmmm...]
And this time, there are no wrong answers.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
assertive-ness...
I AM AN ENGLISH MAJOR.
I realized yesterday how much I enjoy my chosen study path. I was wandering through the Mossey [eucalyptus candles?] Library on the trail of the White Whale, but found myself distracted by the aisles and aisles of literary criticism, author biographies, comparisons between Henry James and modern philosophy, etc. I wanted to stop and read them all.
I also had a difficult time picking out a copy of Moby Dick. Did I want the old hardbound version? The thick one with the larger print and nice cover? Or the Penguin Classic paperback version? I finally settled for the one easiest to lug around in my book bag [the one with the broken strap. i need to get domestic and fix that].
At the Circulation desk, I got involved in a passionate discussion about the merits of the book. Both parties involved attempted to impress the other by casually mentioning the number of times they have finished the great mouthful of Melville: "yeah, well, I read it over the summer, so this time through i can just review and enjoy it.' 'it gets kind of boring. reading it twice was enough.' I proceeded to explain that the random leaps from plot to background to scientific observation to description are precisely the things which keep the novel from becoming boring. Every time something could get annoying or slow, Melville changes course completely for several chapters.
I love being an English Major. I love being passionate and well-read. As an English buff, I don't ever have to be in a gray area. You either love Emily Dickinson or you hate her. You either think Emerson was amazing or crazy. You either devour Malamud to the extent that you can defend him to anyone or you eagerly spout a list of thirty-seven reasons why The Natural is not an Great American Novel [which it is, by the way]. I love walking through the library and wanting to devour everything in sight. I love explaining life and history and faith through literature. I love being captivated by Poe's intense look at humanity, crying over five pages of Hemingway, sitting breathless over Potok's depth and spiritual meaning, and laughing outloud when Bertie does it again...
I AM AN ENGLISH MAJOR.
I will always be.
and I love it.
I realized yesterday how much I enjoy my chosen study path. I was wandering through the Mossey [eucalyptus candles?] Library on the trail of the White Whale, but found myself distracted by the aisles and aisles of literary criticism, author biographies, comparisons between Henry James and modern philosophy, etc. I wanted to stop and read them all.
I also had a difficult time picking out a copy of Moby Dick. Did I want the old hardbound version? The thick one with the larger print and nice cover? Or the Penguin Classic paperback version? I finally settled for the one easiest to lug around in my book bag [the one with the broken strap. i need to get domestic and fix that].
At the Circulation desk, I got involved in a passionate discussion about the merits of the book. Both parties involved attempted to impress the other by casually mentioning the number of times they have finished the great mouthful of Melville: "yeah, well, I read it over the summer, so this time through i can just review and enjoy it.' 'it gets kind of boring. reading it twice was enough.' I proceeded to explain that the random leaps from plot to background to scientific observation to description are precisely the things which keep the novel from becoming boring. Every time something could get annoying or slow, Melville changes course completely for several chapters.
I love being an English Major. I love being passionate and well-read. As an English buff, I don't ever have to be in a gray area. You either love Emily Dickinson or you hate her. You either think Emerson was amazing or crazy. You either devour Malamud to the extent that you can defend him to anyone or you eagerly spout a list of thirty-seven reasons why The Natural is not an Great American Novel [which it is, by the way]. I love walking through the library and wanting to devour everything in sight. I love explaining life and history and faith through literature. I love being captivated by Poe's intense look at humanity, crying over five pages of Hemingway, sitting breathless over Potok's depth and spiritual meaning, and laughing outloud when Bertie does it again...
I AM AN ENGLISH MAJOR.
I will always be.
and I love it.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
airport observational free writing...
I am one of those people who cries in airports. There are few socially acceptable public places to cry, but airports are okay. I am not, however, one of those beautiful romantic poet criers leaving behind true love. I am the sopping, bleary-eyed, sniffling kind that people ignore and then feel sorry for themselves.
I choose to walk between terminals rather than take the train. I have time. I need to burn the energy and emotion. Businessmen look away from my tears, which somehow makes me laugh.
Hemingway is perfect airport reading.
A man limps past me, waiting at the gate for one of those electric transports driven by charming black men to take him and his artificial leg to the next gate. He stops the new recruits wearing army t-shirts and tells them how he lost his leg in a roadside bomb in Iraq. They're heading to boot camp and he's on his way home from an event in New York honoring soldiers injured in battle. Now he works for the government helping disabled soldiers integrate back into society. He reassures them, but it's unnecessary. They are confident and cocky and have never faced death like that. I say a prayer for Mark and Joe and Jake and all the other names I don't know. I smile, but feel like crying for them now and not for me. Instead I tell him thank you when he looks over at me, writing, and smile at the tattooed boys my own age.
"You're welcome."
"Don't be scared, learn everything they teach you, don't be scared," he says again. They don't know fear yet. I hope Hemingway writes about them standing, not laid out flat against a block wall, defeated.
The cart arrives as the automatic trash compacter runs noisily next to me. The boys start to walk towards B-27 and past the fat Jewish boy and his father. Another generation that will have to learn fear.
The wounded soldier in his business suit smiles and waves at me and rides away. The uniformed lady announces my boarding group. I stuff my journal and my Hemingway into my red backpack and board the plane.
I have a new reason to cry in airports.
I choose to walk between terminals rather than take the train. I have time. I need to burn the energy and emotion. Businessmen look away from my tears, which somehow makes me laugh.
Hemingway is perfect airport reading.
A man limps past me, waiting at the gate for one of those electric transports driven by charming black men to take him and his artificial leg to the next gate. He stops the new recruits wearing army t-shirts and tells them how he lost his leg in a roadside bomb in Iraq. They're heading to boot camp and he's on his way home from an event in New York honoring soldiers injured in battle. Now he works for the government helping disabled soldiers integrate back into society. He reassures them, but it's unnecessary. They are confident and cocky and have never faced death like that. I say a prayer for Mark and Joe and Jake and all the other names I don't know. I smile, but feel like crying for them now and not for me. Instead I tell him thank you when he looks over at me, writing, and smile at the tattooed boys my own age.
"You're welcome."
"Don't be scared, learn everything they teach you, don't be scared," he says again. They don't know fear yet. I hope Hemingway writes about them standing, not laid out flat against a block wall, defeated.
The cart arrives as the automatic trash compacter runs noisily next to me. The boys start to walk towards B-27 and past the fat Jewish boy and his father. Another generation that will have to learn fear.
The wounded soldier in his business suit smiles and waves at me and rides away. The uniformed lady announces my boarding group. I stuff my journal and my Hemingway into my red backpack and board the plane.
I have a new reason to cry in airports.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
in the garden...
Em, Lily, Danielle
04 girls represent! Emily, Lily, Danielle, Katie
JohnDavid, Emily, Lily, Danielle, Katie, Bryce
We don't pose for very long...
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