An inbox full of URGENTs, ASAPs, NOWs, ME FIRSTs, RESPONSE REQUIRED emails.

A telephone full of "WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO SEE MEs...WE HAVE THINGS WE NEED TO GET DONE"

Classes full of GET THIS TO ME NOWs.

And a me full of PLEASE GO AWAY.

(in other news, my mom just called to ask what my phone number was.)

______

This was a first.

When you crowd twelve sopranos in a concrete room the size of a walk-in closet and ask them to sing high C's, it's only natural that the sound-waves would move at a high frequency.

We peeled paint off the ceiling with our voices.

Back and Forth

It's amazing how different a place can look in the daylight. I swear the swings were on the other side of the park...

It's really nice to have a friend who can just sit.

Retained.

Retainer in mouth.

I am guilty.

You staring up at me with Iris colored eyes.

Neglect.

New year.

New start.

Retainer in mouth.

I am hurting.

Oh, The Irony

It's been my goal to give as much blood as possible as often as possible.

Be Positive.

I'd like to save a life.

After convincing my mother to donate with me, we hop in the car and race to the front doors.

Mississippi Blood Services close at 2:30.

We pull on the doors. Frown. And as we turn away, a little nurse angel opens the door and invites us in.

They never give you fun Band-Aids when you grow up.

Pricked finger. Curled toes. Wince. SQUEEEEEEEEZE.

"Your iron is too low, sweetie."

-what does that mean?

"It means your iron is too low."

-what does that mean?

"It means you should eat more"

-ha.

She tries again. SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE.

"Now it's even lower."

Hands me pamphlet. ("Why You Can't Donate Blood" blah blah blah)

"Would you like me to prick your other finger?"

-maybe next time.

January One

After coming home to find an immaculate room, I immediately do some searching. (If everything is off the floor, I won't know where to find it.) Upon my investigating, I found some 4x6 prints of pictures I took in New York when I was 14. It's amazing how many memories flooded my mind. On the bottom of the stack was a photograph of a girl playing the washboard in Washington Square Park. I had no idea who she was, but man. I can still hear her voice to this day.

There comes certain times where I get an itch. This itch wants to find something. This itch wants Washboard Girl.

Google Search: Washington Square Park washboard player darn handy

You'd be surprised at how many empty results come up.

After a good half hour of searching, I see a thumbnail of Washboard Girl on some random person's Myspace. I honestly can't believe my eyes. Jessy Carolina. On my computer screen.

New Years Day Success.