I was standing dazzled with my heart in flames....

So yesterday, as you might have guessed from the photos, was kind of a big day for me. I got my hair cut and... broke my glasses. Might as well make it a complete makeover, right? =) The hair doesn't really look like me, but I think I'm at peace with it. It was least feels very nice - cool, light, and sort of flippy. And the glasses.... well.... beyond repair I think. I guess they just couldn't survive five years of abuse and then being sat on by both me and Paxton in a six month period. I wonder, should I go retro for the new ones? = D

Tomorrow's going to be a big day too. I'm getting off work especialy early and going with Mom to meet the Wilkies in Indiana and bring Avery back home. That should be cool. I'll get to see Jenn again and flex my driving skills, in preparation for driving up to PA this fall. And, of course, Avery's coming back home.

Today I took my last lab test and had my last actual class period. Now I just have to take my final exam next Wednesday and that's it. I'm done. For. ev. er. At least with Biology.

People in my class at Calhoun keep asking me questions about the course. For instance, "We don't have to come in on Tuesday, do we? We just have to come in for the exam on Wednesday?" And it struck me as funny: just because I'm doing well in the course, people assume that I know what I'm doing. What they don't realize is that half the time I'm just winging it - like last night, realizing at nine p.m. that I hadn't studied for my test at ten a.m. the next morning. Just because I happen to get good grades does not mean I know what's going on. Which also strikes me as hilariously funny. = D

I finished a rough draft of a story the other day. And typed up some poems that I've been working on. I expect I'll inflict them on you all fairly soon. If you want to read them (or the story at least. I'm not sure how much of the poetry will become 'public'.) leave me a message or send me an e-mail or something and I'll send it to you. I feel like I accomplished something - most of my story ideas don't even make it into a fully written rough draft. Ironically enough, I write a lot of poetry very badly and a few stories that people seem to like a lot.

Louise Gluck:

THE WHITE LILIES

As a man and woman make
a garden between them like
a bed of stars, here
they linger in the summer evening
and the evening turns
cold with their terror: it
could all end, it is capable
of devastation. All, all
can be lost, through scented air
the narrow columns
uselessly rising, and beyond,
a churning sea of poppies -

Hush, beloved. It doesn't matter to me
how many summers I live to return:
this one summer we have entered eternity
I felt your two hands
bury me to release its splendor.