Monday, June 28, 2010

day two hundred ninety-nine.

Day Two Hundred Ninety-nine Thursday  6/24/10 
Dress:  Pink Stripe and Polka Dot Sun Dress
Purchased From:  MOLLY DELANEY
Year or Era Purchased: Spring 2010
Price: $FREE

Accessories:  Pink and Navy blue striped socks, black flats, a pink cardigan at times
Hair and Makeup: Two mini buns with the rest down and curled a bit, usual makeup 
Comments/Compliments/Complaints: A guy in my class said nice polka dots, Michael loved the whole outfit, uhhhh crap, I can't remember.  A lot of people stared at my boobs too.  They were out so ya know...

Thursday was crazy.  It was wicked hot and I worked a lot.  I started my day by making pasta salad for dinner as I knew I had class and wouldn't feel like making it later in the day.  It was beyond hot so I opted for another Molly dress, one that would help keep the heat at bay.  I quite enjoyed the dress and paired it with fun striped socks.  

About half way through the day the skies turned black and fell to the ground.  Wind whipped through the trees leaving large chunks of branches and leaves all over the city streets.  Trees crashed to the ground, blocking traffic and wreaking havoc. I was driving across town on Pine Street when it all happened.  I watched as pedestrians ran for cover, the faces full of shock and anger.  Once guy stood on the corner of 15th and Pine and just let the rain soak him.  He was already wet and running would simply get him to his destination faster, not drier.   The storm continued and I attempted to walk two dogs, they were having none of it and we barely made it a block.  Luckily my last job involved cats and no outdoor activity.  I ran home to walk my houseguest, Wally, and then hurriedly got myself to school- two minutes late as I got caught in traffic.  Ugh.  Class was fun and we studied memoir and creative journalism.  The last forty minutes were spent interviewing another classmate regarding an insignificant life event for the purpose of writing a memoir piece based on it.  We were to draw out the memory of our partner.  Our professor then turned the tables on us and proclaimed we were to write a memoir/creative journalism piece based on the story told to us, not our own, and we were to write in first person.  Hrmpf.  I suppose that's creative journalism but it's certainly not memoir.   Now I get to write a piece pretending to be an eighteen year old male Burger King employee.  Talk about polar opposites.  

I got home and made smart dogs and overcooked corn and served it with the pasta salad. Somehow I checked the corn before it was done and then not again until it was overcooked. Did you know corn gets tough when you overcook it. Yeah, great. 


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