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the light
Wednesday. 1.15.14 9:15 pm
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actual happenings
Sunday. 12.22.13 3:13 am

Things I Am Actually Doing and Not a Story

1. I'm volunteering for a semester (for credit) at a local library. Basically, it involves tutoring bilingually, doing Spanish story times (coming up with a Spanish song to match the theme, reading half the book in Spanish, etc.), and translating fliers to Spanish. This library also has lap reading for babies, so in conclusion I am going to read to some random baby on my lap, this semester, for class credit. Neat. The plan, here, is to be so excellent at my job and do so much extra for them that they agree, at the end of the semester, to create a fall internship for me as the hispanohablante volunteerism intern. I'm pulling a Sherlock and creating my own job, basically, and I have a really strong feeling that they will let me get away with it.

2. There's also this internship, this summer, that I'm applying for, because it would get me overseas and working with children's education, which is kind of starting to look like a track I might dig. I was talking with inhuman, today, about how explaining things clearly has always been my forte, and that kids are drawn to me in the most overt manner, so that isn't the worry...the worry is bringing a calm, assertive leadership to the classroom and gaining respect. So, hopefully, this summer, they'll accept my application and let me come see if I can do it.

3. If not, I plan to go overseas, anyway. My friend Steve who isn't the Steve we know has friends in the Dominican Republic who can probably hook me up with something.

4. I learned to knit?? That's something, right? It's much easier than I thought it would be, so I made like three scarves within the first couple of days of knowing how, and now I'm kind of where I never want to see knitting needles ever again (at least for the next few days).

5. Also, a friend of mine used the word "date," recently, to describe something he wanted to take me on, and man I hate when that happens, because I'm flattered, and he's a great friend, but friendships are just never the same, once someone even SUGGESTS dating, so this really sucks hard. Also, I just hate having to reject someone I really love spending time with and cherish as a person.

6. The dentist informed me, recently, that I still don't have any cavities. This track record just won't stop.

7. My New Year's will be spent on a rooftop bar overlooking the city, which is...man. My hometown is a crazy pathetic place, where most people just drink because they live there and there's nothing else to do, so heading back down to campus, a few days early, and really having a memorable new year will be so nice. The past few years, I've liked spending it alone because it's sort of my reflection time, but, this year, there's no need for more reflection. I don't have romantic feelings for anyone, I'm in control of my family life, and this year was just so chock-full of personal development that it's time to celebrate.

8. Being successful and single is my dream life.

9. I am living the dream.

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the questioning rock
Thursday. 12.19.13 2:39 am
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physical therapy
Monday. 12.9.13 11:26 am

I loosen my grip on his hands and say, "Freestyle," and he gets what that means.

We both let go and start doing what I can only describe as That Dancing Scene in Pulp Fiction on Steroids.

It's around eleven o' clock at night, the night all my exams finally end. Right after my last exam, I went and grabbed myself a sandwich, ate that, then slipped into a dress and tried, fruitlessly, to fix my hair after the downpour I'd been caught in earlier. Around eight, they--Sam, his friend Joey, and Joey's date Megan (sp??)--picked me up in a giant red vehicle; he got out of the car, hugged me, opened my door, and then shut it and got in, himself. We rode to the lights festival, where we drove (then walked) around the park and looked at all the fantastic displays up for the season.

Then, we headed downtown, where we watched a couple episodes of Parks and Recreation while they drank bourbon and ginger ale.

After that was the Christmas party.

I didn't know the people who were throwing the party, and neither did Joey or Megan. Still, Sam wanted to drop by, so here we are, at eleven. The four of us are the only ones dancing, as the rest look on with an expression that I can only describe as "pinched." I look at my dance partner and think, That's okay. In fact, I look at our little brigade and know I wouldn't change this moment for all the approving glances in the world. Megan is a tiny, blonde freshman with bangs, and my most lasting impression of her is when she says, in a perfectly neutral voice, that her "party bitch" texted but that he doesn't know of anything going on. Joey--who looks vaguely British--is sporting a shirt that he himself described as something from the 70s, and his sense of humor is pleasantly parallel to my own. They're dancing together with complete abandon.

Meanwhile, Sam is a bearded redhead with a giant smile and laugh lines, and is dressed like a southerner visiting New York, complete with an expensive-looking overcoat and suspenders. He laughs easily and doesn't worry about much. I instinctively know that he's the type to let others put him into a quiet rage, though, and later will, without a second thought, put my hand on the back of his shoulder when someone throws a glass bottle off the roof of an apartment complex (to which he will reply, sheepishly, "Woosah," confirming my suspicions). I'm dressed date-neutral, but am currently sporting a Bud Light cardboard container crown (not my choice), which I will later hand to Megan, telling her that I can't get Sam to wear it. She will force her hand.

On our way back, Sam mentions that he's a physical therapist, and I almost want to tell him, "Of course you are," because people who currently--or will, someday--work at a hospital are easily the most attractive to me. I wish it were the attraction to big earners, because that would be an easy explanation (although pretty crappy reasoning)...but, even without knowing what they do, there's just something about medical professionals. It's some weird, bidirectional, magnetic pull.

We get back and the night ends. Sam looks me in the eye when he tells me that he wants to see me, when I get back into town after the break. I say Okay. I mean Okay. We hug twice, and then I drive Megan back with me, because we live less than a block away from one another. Then, after making sure she gets home okay, I stroll off to my room and, without another thought, fall deeply asleep.

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