I return to blogging

As a result of my recent jetsetting, I have neglected my blog.  But now I'm back, and ready to publish the details of my oh so exciting life for all to read.  

My Central America vacation was great.  Natasha and I made new friends, rafted, hiked, rode horses, snorkeled, swam, played cards, consumed adult beverages, rolled cigars, smoked cigars, ate lobster, saw ruins and did all sorts of other way exciting things.  I've been back home for a week now, and while I love being able to drink water from the tap and the fact that my legs are no longer disfigured as the result of about 25 mosquito bites, I think I'm ready to go back.  This might have something to do with the fact that I have to start working tomorrow.  To be honest, I'm kind of excited to start working.  This is because I have a great love of the law.  And it is also because I am broke.  But even though I'm not dreading entering the real world, I do keep thinking that this is kind of it.  Like when am I going to have another chance to take Caddy on a leisurely weekday afternoon walk?  Or watch a daytime marathon of America's Next Top Model (that show is best watched in marathon form)?  Or take another 5 week long trip?  I recently figured out when all these things can happen:  when I retire.  Seeing as though I have a bit of a vacation addiction (as well as an ANTM addiction), I'm thinking retirement might have to come sooner rather than later.  Like maybe in a few years?  Over the course of our trip, Natasha and I met more than one retired lawyer who had ditched the US for the islands.  Maybe this will be me!  Probably not, given my new fear of skin cancer, but maybe a year long sabbatical to the tropics will be in order.  Soon.  

All Alone in the Big City

Cara has been called to work this week, which means I have to plan my own New York adventures and motivate myself to get out of the apartment and actually go on them.  So far, I'm acing the planning.  But seeing as though I've been up for a couple of hours now and am still in my pajamas and glasses, I can't say the doing part is going very well. 

Yesterday, upon my return from Carrie's wedding in Vermont, Cara and I decided to take a trip to Coney Island, the birthplace of the hot dog (possibly invented by Jewish people!).  It was quite the experience.  I have never seen a beach that crowded before.   I have also never seen a beach that dirty before.  I guess I'm spoiled, coming from Oregon and all (I consider Seaside dirty), but there was trash everywhere.  Still, I had a good time.  There was great people watching, and again, coming from Oregon, where the white people roam, it was really different seeing such a diverse crowd, different in a good way.  Unfortunately, we were too full from brunch for hot dogs, but I did get in some ocean frolicking (don't worry, there was a pre-frolic phone check.  I've learned my lesson).  I'm not sure I need to go back to the CI anytime soon, but I would recommend it:  not necessarily for the beach, but for the experience.

Besides visiting Coney Island, I experienced another first this weekend:  going to a wedding where I don't know anyone.  Technically, I knew some people.  Like the bride.  And her family.  And her aunt and uncle we stayed with in Michigan while driving cross country.  And I did meet some of her friends at the bachelorette party.  But I had no real friends there, which made me nervous at first, but in the end was fine.  I generally enjoy meeting new people, and nothing makes schmoozing easier than some brewskies and an 80s cover band.  Plus, seeing as though my plans for the wedding changed last minute and everyone felt bad for me, I got upgraded to rehearsal dinner attendee (on a tour boat on Lake Champlain) and ended up staying at the bride's mom's house (the farm where the wedding was held).  I do have one teensy complaint about the wedding though.  Malia and I were specifically told guests were not to bring dates.  I'm a little confused about this, however, because basically everyone there brought a date.  Obviously, some of the dates were actually fiances, but I sort of did some asking around, and it seems like no one else got the no date memo.  Which is fine.  You would likely need a fiance in order to find someone to accompany you to middle of nowhere VT for a wedding where they will know no one, but my issue with the whole idea is how do you determine when a relationship is "significant" enough for it to slide through a loophole to a "no guests!" wedding?I understand the whole money issue, but it just seems to me that when you do have a wedding where the majority of attendees will be couples, both invited to the wedding either outright or as an acceptable guest, it doesn't really make sense to tell the minority of invitees that they can't bring a date.  Anyway, thats just my opinion.  It was a really beautiful wedding (there was even a bagpipper in a kilt), and even though it ended up being a bit of a hassle getting there, I am really happy I was able to go.  Plus, there was steak. 

I need to get going.  The longer I sit in here, the hotter it gets out there.  

The Juice is Not Worth the Squeeze

So I am currently in New York City, staying with my sister Cara and her roommate Chelsie.  Even though I am having a great time, I am having two major issues.  First, being in New York, I obviously am feeling a need to shop.  The problem is that I probably am not going to want to carry around a bunch of shopping bags full of clothes I won't be wearing while in Honduras, Nicaragua and Costa Rice.  Second, being in New York, I obviously feel a need to eat.  There is just so much good food here, and I want to sample it all.  And no, that it not an exaggeration.  I really want to eat just about everything in sight.  But I am going to have to be wearing a bikini a fair amount in the coming weeks and I'm not sure how comfortable I will be doing that after 5 pizzas and 20 rice puddings (which is what I really want to be eating).

Don't worry though.  While I haven't been shopping, I have still gotten to eat some delicious food because I have no willpower.  And am glad I have no willpower.  For dinner tonight we went to a falafel shop aptly named "The Best Falafel in New York."  We also went to a frozen yogurt shop where you serve yourself yogurt and toppings, as much as you want (and there were 16 yogurt flavors!) and then pay based on weight.  I think one of these needs to open up in Portland immediately.  I love paying by weight.  If I ever open a restaurant (like maybe Sushi Territory, the western-themed sushi and bbq conveyer belt restaurant), its going to be pay by weight.  Actually that might be hard for a conveyer belt place.  

I've also managed to make  new friend already!  He was my cab driver from the airport and is the philosopher who coined the title of this post.  He used to be in the construction business, running his own company, but he decided the money (juice) was not worth all the sacrifices he had to make to have that money (squeeze).  So now he drives a cab, goes to school and travels a lot.  We're going to be Myspace friends.  And he didn't try to charge me $20 over the flat rate from the airport, like the sketchy cab driver who had my bags in his trunk before I realized something was a little off about the situation.

Tomorrow I head to Vermont for Carrie's wedding.  I'm excited, despite the fact that I will know no one there except the bride.  And her parents.  Oh well, it'll be an adventure.  

Beaverton Police Rule!

On Tuesday, I ventured out to Beaverton to visit Marie and her new kittens (kittens with very sharp claws, but cute nonetheless).  On the way back, I ran into a couple of issues that interfered with my ability to drive safely.  Well actually just one issue.  And that issue was my vision.  I have always maintained I have poor night vision.  And I think what happened last Tuesday proves as much.  I was supposed to turn onto Murray to get back to 26.  However, as I pulled into the turn lane and waited for the light to change, I started panicking because I could not tell if there was a median in the middle of the street or not, and when I realized there might be a median, I upped the level of my panicking because I could not tell what side of the median I would need to turn onto.  As I soon would discover, there was no median.  At all.  However, I did not discover this until I began to turn left, freaked out because I still could not figure out what to do about the phantom median, started to try and go straight (while still in the middle of the street), realized the light to go straight was still red, and then finally just decided I had no choice but to go for that left turn, median or no median.  So I did.  And was immediately pulled over by the Beaverton Police.  He took his sweet time getting out of his car and over to my window, which gave me time to turn off the radio, grab my license and figure out what I was going to tell him that would sound less crazy than "I thought there was a median in the street, but there wasn't, so no worries!"  Finally, he sauntered up to my window, and I quickly told him that I was not from these parts and was just trying to get back to 26.  He kind of laughed and said he figured I was either lost or drunk.  Good thing I had stuck to hot chocolate at the bar (which is kind of weird, now that I think about it.  Hot chocolate in a bar in the middle of August?).  He also told me that he had debated pulling me over or the guy who had been behind me, got tired of waiting to figure out what I was going to do, and had dangerously sped around me.  Upon hearing this, I became very indignant ("Yes, that is dangerous!  You would have thought he could have waited like 2.3 seconds!").  After giving me directions (I actually knew where I was going, I just was thrown by the presence (or lack of presence) of the median), the nice officer sent me on my way.  Maybe the nice police officers is the reason people want to live in the suburbs?

Vacation continues...

I may or may not have spent the past 4 hours on the couch flipping between the Olympics and an America's Next Top Model marathon (one I have seen at least three times).  But I see nothing wrong with any of this.  Because I am on vacation.  And once I get back from Central America, its unclear when  I'll have a chance to spend this much time on the couch again.  I need to live it up!  On the couch.  

The past few weekends have been pretty jam-packed.  Weekend before last, I went up to Seattle to see friends and to meet up with Watari Sensei, my favorite Japanese English teacher from back in Mine.  The plan was to meet Watari at Safeco for a Mariner's game, but we never really solidified plans before she left Japan.  So when I got to Seattle, I was a little worried about how we would actually find each other.  I became even more worried when I called the number of the woman Watari was staying with and left the following message for a man named John:  "Um, hi, I'm looking for Watari Sensei?  This is Abra, we are supposed to meet up for the game tomorrow?  Um, so if this is actually where Watari Sensei is staying could you please have her get in touch with me?"  I'm pretty sure John likely thought he was receiving a prank call.

Eventually, Watari Sense called me, and we met up at the game without a hitch (well, actually there was a slight hitch - she told me to meet by the big "grass" by Safeco, when apparently what she meant was the big "glass" glove thing by the gate).  We had great seats on the first base line, perfect for taking pictures of Ichiro every time he made it on base.  While the game was a great time, the highlight had nothing to do with baseball.  When we were walking to our states, we heard someone shouting out names.  I was like, who could possibly know both of us?  I turned around and sitting exactly two rows behind us was Hayashi Sense, another one of my Japanese English teachers!  While she knows Watari well from many years spent educating the youth of Mine, the two had no clue that both of them were spending their breaks traveling in Canada and Washington, and were also blown away to see each other at the game.  Eventually, Hayashi came and sat on the other side of me, and it was just like old times in Japan with the two of them chatting in Japanese, and me flipping my head to side to side, nodding, like I am following the conversation when in reality I had no clue what either one of them was saying.

This past weekend was Jolina's wedding.  Everything went really well, and I was really happy to be a part of it.  The highlights beyond the ceremony itself were probably Brian dancing with my mom and Ryan (you know, the guy in middle school who looked like he was 30 and had a mustache when he was a twelve year old sixth grader) repeatedly hitting on Claire and calling my Abraham.  

I'm currently at a crossroads.  Another Top Model episode is about to start.  I could continue sitting here, and wait to see who wins (CariDee, in case anyone was wondering) or I suppose I could get dressed and consider leaving the house.  I think I'm going to stay on the couch.  

Post bar life

I'd like to think the bar is behind me.  And technically, it is.  Exactly one week behind me.  Last Wednesday at about this time I was halfway through my fourth Raspberry Stoli and soda and barely managing to stay halfway on my bar stool.  But even though I'm done studying, I have yet to completely move past the Hell that was the past two months.  For instance, almost every night I have some bar related dream.  The scariest one involved sitting in the JELL office, trying to decide if I should take something called "Bar 2" which was an optional test taken a week after the bar that would increase your chances of passing.  Messed up stuff.  At least I've started to stop going through the elements of negligence every time I see a puddle on the ground.  But I will admit that while running laps today at Reed, I considered explaining to a bunch of construction workers why their site was definitely an attractive nuisance. 

I've decided though that I really am just going to put the bar out of my head until September 12th.  What I think will help with this is that I can't remember any of the questions of the test and I decided it was not worth it to try and check my answers when I did remember the questions.  What will also help is that I have a Central American vacation to plan.  In less than a month, I'll be heading to the east coast for a week, followed by about a month in Honduras, Nicaragua and Costa Rica, where I will master surfing, get really tan, help Natasha make a sign reading "Second Base Only" in Spanish and visit tortilla factories.  Its going to be great.  

In other news, I have found my perfect apartment at a perfect location and will be moving in October 1st.  I'm not sure I am going to have any perfect furniture with which to furnish the apartment, but I just finished reading this book, The Glass Castle, which is a memoir about growing up with parents who basically decided they would be poor, and I got a lot of ideas for furniture, including cardboard boxes for beds.  I'm thinking cardboard boxes can also be tables! One of the reasons my apartment is perfect is because all dogs are welcome (except for aggressive breeds) so soon after I move in, I plan to adopt (a dog, not a child), name him Johnny Potato and take him for lots of walks at the park across the street (like I said, perfect location).  

I'm thinking my life can't be any more boring than it was while studying for the bar, so if I managed to come up with some things to write about then, I will definitely be able to increase my blogging time now that (hopefully) exciting things will be happening.  I think that the simple fact that my vow of sobriety has ended will up the excitement factor 200% at least. 

Update!

Marie, Maggie, Natasha and I just had a "Mamma Mia" sing-a-long!  I'm not crazy.

Mamma Mia

I have developed an unhealthy obsession with Mamma Mia.  I have now seen the movie twice and purchased the soundtrack on itunes.  What is wrong with me?  I mean, its an amazing movie and all, but seriously?  Furthermore, I have also spent way too many study breaks singing the songs and working on dance routines, specifically to the title track "Mamma Mia."  I want to be Meryl Streep when I am old.  I really need to be done studying.  I want my sanity back.

Wait, I Might Miss Eugene??

So on Wednesday night, after softball, I joined the Fender family for dinner at Turtle's.  A couple people ordered appetizers - a smoked salmon plate and cajun fried oysters.  Granted, I was starving, but the dishes looked and smelled amazingly delicious.  I started thinking that next time I come to Turtle's, I am definitely going to have to get at least one of those.  And then suddenly it dawned on me that this might be my last time at Turtle's.  Because I am leaving Eugene for good in less than 2 weeks!  

I've been wanting to leave Eugene pretty much since I arrived 3 years ago.  Its not like Eugene is a bad place, its just not the right place for me.  This would be because I am not an aging hippie or a member of the undergrad army of mini skirt and Ugg-clad girls.  In all honesty, Eugene is much more than that, but living here has really just been a means to an end.  And now that end is about to be realized.  And I get to go to Portland.  And I'm sad?

I've had some great times in Eugene.  I honestly enjoyed law school, and I'm not even talking about the parts where I got to drink.  Basically, studying the law rulez (where I'm from, words end in "z."  503 represent!).  I am not even kidding.  I've also met some great people.  And have had some "good times," which is code for "crazy nights," which is code for "had lots of headaches the morning after helping the Eugene economy by purchasing beverages and hot dogs with cheese and bacon bits on the street."  

The following is a list of things that have made the past 3 years stuck in Eugene suprisingly not that horrible:

The JELL office (not the OLR office, even though I was a member and had my own desk.  The lighting in there possibly caused my left eye to get all the way to a -7.0)

TayTay's 

Eugene Parks

My peeps

Cafe Yumm

Hot Dog Cart

Kegs at the law school (economically speaking, it was always the best deal in town)

MOC (also known as "The Cake Store")

There's more (yes, I know, crazy), but I have to get to sleep.  Tomorrow I am going to attempt to run in the am and then stay at school all day and learn crap.  My treat will be a movie.  And maybe popcorn!  Its too bad I don't know Braille, because then I could make Braille flashcards and bring them to the movie and watch it and feel the bumps and study!  

In other news, there might be a former Duck football player named Donald spending the night in the law school tonight.  I went into the student lounge to print some outlinez (I'm street), and there was this guy in there  watching tv who proceeded to ask me a bunch of questions about when the building closed and what happened when the building closed.  I made the mistake of telling him once you are in, you are in.  No one kicks you out.  A little while later, Erin went to the courtyard and this guy was out there smoking a joint.  He started questioning her about her late nights at the law school and whether or not she had ever slept there.  I hope he has a blanket because the air conditioning is only seems to have an "ice cold" setting.

Best pick up line ever

I really like forward, confident guys.  Because then you don't have to do anything, which is great for me because I am lazy.  I think I may have met my dream man last night.  Natasha and I decided to go running by the river.  Because we are both indecisive, we were standing at a fork in the path, asking each other repeatedly if we should go left or right and mulling the pros and cons or heading out in either direction (also repeatedly), when we were approached by a hobo. Which may or may not be a politically correct term.  I feel ok using it because of my obsession with hobo culture.  But anyway, so we are approached by this man, who right away told us that he was not panhandling or begging.  He just wanted to ask us a question.  I was all set to give some directions (or not.  I am really bad at Eugene directions), when he surprised us by announcing that we were both in violation of Eugene City Ordinance #12999.  Being unfamiliar with the Eugene city code, we asked him what that governed.  I also wanted to ask if it was strict liability, but refrained.  Better not to know.  Even though ignorance of the law is no defense.  According to our new friend, City Ordinance #12999 involves a two pronged analysis.  First, we were told that we were likely in violation because we are so attractive.  However, that alone would not be enough for liability.  In order to be found in violation, we also had to be found to be responsible for causing an individual, upon viewing us in all our glory, to suffer a heart attack!  And according to our new friend, we had done just that.  

I was pretty impressed with the hobo's line.  I thought it was pretty clever.  And after smelling the alcohol on his breath, I was even more impressed.  When I've been drinking, I can barely manage to order a hot dog from the cart, and this guy was practically composing poetry!  It was a beautiful moment.  What made it even more beautiful was the giant knife he had strapped to his leg.  I really need to spend more time by the river. 

Party weekend!

It turns out I am not a very regular blogger.  I need to work on that.  Unfortunately the bar studying keeps getting in the way.  Well, this weekend you can expect not one but multiple entries from me!  I've got the house to myself here in Portland, just me and the dog, and after my giant rager I am throwing tomorrow (5 kegs, 6 strippers) in honor of liberty and freedom (to drink and strip), I will have nothing to but blog!  And make flashcards, but whatever.

So yeah, just chillin' with the dog.  I decided it would be a good idea to order thai food from the neighborhood place (it was) and to take the dog with me to pick it up (it wasn't).  I couldn't find a place to tie Caddy up outside so I paced in front of the restaurant for 5 minutes figuring out what I should do with him.  Finally, I just stopped this guy who was walking in if he would mind staying outside for Caddy for a few minutes.  He didn't seem to mind, but now I'm worried.  I can see myself having kids and getting overly ambitious about taking them places, and then they get in my way and I have to leave them with a stranger in the parking lot.  Obviously this means I will need a nanny.  And the nanny's name is Stevester and Sarah.  I think I'll let my parents live in the guest house out by the pool in exchange for raising Abra Jr. and Abraham.  

The only exciting thing that has happened to me in the last week was that I met a man and he gave me free Olympic trials tickets!  The I met a man part sounds kind of sketchy.  I should elaborate.  I was talking with some peeps, procrastinating on essay #57, when this man wandering through the law school came up to us and started chatting.  He was a lawyer and was asking about bar studying.  Then all of the sudden he was like, "What do you guys think about the trials being here?"  We said we thought it was pretty cool.  Then he asked if we would go if we had tickets.  I said I definitely would.  He asked me if I promised.  I said yes.  Next thing I know, he's handing me two tickets for the next day!  I was stupid and didn't get his card, or even his name, but I went the next day and the tickets were amazing.  Front row, right on the finish line for all the running events.  Since attending the trials, I am pretty sure I need to become an olympic caliber runner.  I'll keep you posted on my progress.  

For those of you law students not in Eugene, I would just like to let you know how not a big deal the trials being held across the street has been.  I have had no trouble parking and its not noisy at all.  Basically, the only bad things about it are only having one bathroom on the main floor of school and that the library closes at 5.  Actually thats not a bad thing; its an excuse to stop studying.  Which is awesome.  

The Grip

On my run today, I ran into a "sister."  She was wearing a Theta shirt, so I asked her if she was a theta.  She said yes, but that it was a long time ago.  I said, yeah me too.  Then we stood there.  It was awkward.  A few seconds later, I ran off.  I should have slipped her the grip!  Unfortunately, I'm not actually sure I know the grip.  

The grip is like a secret handshake, not something inappropriate or likely to amount to a battery - which is a harmful or offensive touching.  It is an intentional tort.  But you know what it is not?  A specific intent crime!  The specific intent crimes are 1st degree murder, solicitation, attempt, conspiracy, forgery, false pretenses, assault, burglary, larceny, embezzlement and robbery.  You know who I have to thank for that little bit of brilliance?  Natasha Ng and her genius idea to make slightly dirty mnemonic devices.  This one is 1st sac ffabler or "testicle story."  Seriously, I don't know where I would be without her.  

Tomorrow is the first day of the track and field trials, and hopefully tomorrow Nike, who has taken over the law school, will actually supply us with the promised donuts.  Nike is using the law school as a hang out for all the athletes prior to their events, as well as a place to showcase its products.  This would all be really cool if it wasn't for the fact that we are physically barred from actually seeing any of it.  The commons has been entirely cordoned off with paneling and curtains so that you can't even peer down from the upper floors.  I'm not really sure why Nike feels the need to subvert my ultimate goal of landing a track star, but its really not cool.  Especially if I'm not going to get any donuts.

I am possibly bipolar and might need meds

Studying for the bar is turning me into a crazy person.  I've never been very moody, but with this studying nonsense, I am up and down all day.  I wake up and I am depressed thinking about class.  During class, my mood usually perks up, especially if I decide to get a donut (by the way, starting tomorrow Nike will be supplying us with free muffins and donuts in exchange for taking over practically our entire building for the track trials!  So pumped!).  I usually am ok through lunch, because I am eating and food makes me happy.  But then I start outlining whatever subject we were force fed during class and my mood quickly plummets.  Especially since the amount of emails I used to get and would use as excuse for multiple study breaks has significantly decreased.  After outlining, I am up again and usually feel a sense of accomplishment.  This disappears when I start failing essays and problem sets, unless I am working in the JELL office where all the inappropriateness distracts me from my dismal performances.  After studying, I go running, often with Natasha, and what with the sun and the endorphins or whatever, I am once again a happy, normal human being.  Actually, I'm usually pretty happy after running too, not because of any sort of adrenaline rush, but because the only studying I do according to my self-created schedule is done in front of the tv and involves only multiple choice sets (preferable to essays) and flash card making(always a crowd pleaser).  Right now I'm watching Sex and the City and rehydrating post-run, while making flashcards.  So I'm happy.  Until 8 am tomorrow when the cycle repeats itself.

In other news, I broke my vow in Portland on Friday night.  But this weekend was pre-excused because of my mom's 60th bday bash (if we are going to be technical, I broke it the night before the party, and actually was pretty good at the party on Saturday, but whatever).  The best part of the party was the fact that there was a dj and my new most prized possession is the 30 second video I took of my mom dancing.   She has some unique moves. 

Tomorrow I have my second softball game as an outfielder for the Forrest Paint...I'm actually not sure what the mascot is.  I guess the team is just Forrest Paint.  My friend Fender, after hearing about my amazing softball skills (Sunrise Little League Allstar 1990 and 1991), invited me to join his dad's company's team.  Or maybe he just let me join because they were short on players.  Whatever.  The point is that there is a game tomorrow which gives me something more to look forward to than mindless tv and flashcards.  I predict victory.

My broken face

Studying for the bar can be dangerous.  And I am talking about danger beyond mental breakdowns and blindness from too much studying.  When you are studying for the bar, you are pretty stressed and you want to make sure you are fit enough to make it through two grueling days of test taking, so it is important to exercise.  A large group of males studying for the bar here have started playing basketball everyday after class.  Because Natasha and I are always pushing for equality and also like to wear short shorts with basketball shoes, we decided we should join them.  This was a horrible idea.  Here's why: they play with undergrads.  And we all know undergrads have not yet developed full control over their arms and legs.  Their motor skills are simply not where they need to be yet.  Neither are their brains, but that is another matter.  

Anyway, so last Monday we donned are bball outfits, and, looking super cute, headed to the rec center to show off our skillz.  Eventually I found myself playing in a game in which I was the only girl.  This worried me, but not as much as the fact that there was a literal giant on the other team.  This guy was dunking all over the place and was possibly equal to about three Abras size -wise.  This guy also was incredibly obnoxious (at one point, he held the ball above Natasha's head, making her jump up and down like a kangaroo until finally putting her out of her misery by dunking on her).  

Sometimes when I play basketball with guys, I don't get many passes or really get to do much on offense.  So basically I just run around and set a lot screens.  This was the situation on that fateful Monday when I ran up to the three point line and set a beautiful screen on obnoxious guy.  Unfortunately for my face, obnoxious guy (who's brother is a former Duck player) didn't exactly see me (hence why my screen was beautiful) and as he swung around, his elbow connected with my nose and mouth.

As the blood dripped from right nostril, all of the other players came to my aid.  Well not all other players.  My assailant just made a joke about how I shouldn't set screens.  Once the tears has stopped falling, I responded that maybe he shouldn't swing his elbows.  He retorted that getting hit was actually my fault and that because I was in his sphere when I set the screen, I was technically guilty of fouling him.

This incident happened over a week ago but my face still hurts.  Luckily my nose looks exactly the same (since having to get a nose job is one of my greatest fears in life, this is important) and after Marie told me to stop trying to wiggle my front teeth to test them, my mouth has started to feel better.  But I think we can all learn an important lesson from this tragic tale:  stay away from uncoordinated undergrads!  

Since the incident, I have stuck with running by the river.  However, this also dangerous because no that the weather is nice, the methies have parties with their pit bulls on the banks of the river and sometimes I see dead snakes.  But at least running won't lead to a nose job.

As usual, nothing exciting is going on today.  Actually that's not true!  It was $3.99 chicken strip basket day at DQ.  I suggest you all take advantage.

I have recovered

So I have officially recovered from last night's Sorbet Disaster.  Which is good because I had a lot of stuff to do today and thus did not need to be additionally burdened by stomach cramps.  This morning I attended class, got bored, ate lunch outside, got red, outlined torts, got bored, went to Jiffy Lube, possibly got cheated, drove over to DQ, got giant cone and felt sick and then attempted to write an MPT, but eventually decided that that simply was not my best plan.  Because it was boring.  The problem semi-involved science (well kind of.  Actually not really, but it seemed like it could), so I decided to skip the pain and go running.

My life really is not interesting.  This blog might be a bad idea.  Its going to be really sad if I have to purposefully create events like Sorbet Disaster just so I have something to write about.

Sorbet Disaster June 15, 2008

Today, I ate sorbet.  And it was a disaster.  It is not a dinner.  Don't worry, this blog will increase exponentially in amazingness as soon as I recover.