| Copyright 1999 and beyond. Merv/Marv Productions. |
| March 21, 2004 ::12:24pm:: Today marks the last day of my first Spring Break as a teacher, and it is met with as much dread as it was when I was a student. My friends in the working world tell me that I should just be grateful to have a free week of vacation, but I've had Spring Break for the past 18 years of my life, so y'know... I figure it's OK to take things like this for granted. But the retention of Spring Break does not equate to its ability to maintain its luster. Suddenly, one week seems all too short. What can one do in a week? - I went to my cousin's debutante party. She turned 18 and I was reminded of my adulthood. - I helped my mom clean the patio. (I still can't find my CD case.) - I went to Islands of Adventure yesterday. I'm hoping it was from lack of sleep or the drive to Orlando that I was so susceptible to massive headaches after each rollercoaster (and even the teacup ride), but I fear it's old age. Could it be? March 16, 2004 ::9:21am:: My personal trainer has a client who cries out in an only-in-the-bedroom sort of way whenever she finishes her sets on a resistance machine. This is not comparable to the low grunting of burly men on the bench press, straining for a bit more power. As the girl lets go of the weights, she lets go. Or so my trainer thinks. Sigh... If only the gym could do it for me. March 11, 2004 ::10:58pm:: My favorite image of you is that of you staring blankly into oblivion, smiling for a reason of which only you are aware. I thought I was the only one who did that. I do not fight memories of you, or I do, but I am weak, subservient to my daydreams. I wish I could say that I miss the special way you twirl pasta onto your fork, the way you look when you're sad or nervous or pissed, your angry impatience with me when I was stubborn. But I never knew these things about you. You were, and still are, a stranger. But it was the growing familiarity that made my toes tingle, my smile flourish, my heart flutter. |
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