I have an informal meeting with someone from Teach for America on Thursday. She can share her experiences with me and I can ask her questions. I was also asked to bring my resume so we can talk over my past leadership experience and my activity's on campus. And therein lies the rub. I have none of that. I'd have to go back 6 years to high ( Read more... )

The dying sun, pale and dull and cold shrinking in the dew, howls bitterly across the snow. It is endlessly flat, from here is seen where the world falls off as if, like the sun, its maker grew tired and gave in. Beneath the snow are lost footpaths and roads, going nowhere. Urine stains are all that remains from whatever beasts have wandered ( Read more... )

I would be disappointed if that were not already the name of a porn flick ( Read more... )

( My totally academic essay on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. )

I have named my haircut Cinnamon Girl ( Read more... )

I am fairly certain that the beginning was "I don't want..." and that I happened to be that traif-eating girl. Miriam, the Jewish Queen (far too matronly to be a princess), that overmoussed cunt, frumpy in her size-too small clinging tops and jean skirts, said this to another girl who refuses to acknowledge my existence in my presence. There are ( Read more... )

I love the flamers ( Read more... )

At this moment, I am fighting the unbearable itch and ingrownness implicit in being a western woman. And no one makes a bandaid for thigh-crease-in-grown-hair bleeding ( Read more... )

I obviously failed at writing every day. So shoot me ( Read more... )

Pissed off Scott today. Figures. This whole thing about Chrissy, well I just don't care for it. <-in graduate school, this type of sentence is called proleptic. I don't care for her and I am tired of listening to him occilate between bitching and defending her. I think it is a general thing about bad relationships. Now that I am not in one ( ( Read more... )