Bit of a conversation I overheard today:

Socially awkward guy, in a low voice trying to sound like more of a man: "Do you have a cellular?"

Socially sheltered girl, in high-pitched flirty voice: "Of course! ... Oooo, yours is so sleek!"

Guy, with an even deeper voice: "Yeah..."


"Somewhere someone is traveling furiously toward you,
At incredible speed, traveling day and night,
Through blizzards and desert heat, across torrents,
through narrow passes.
But he will know where to find you,
Recognize you when he sees you."

--john ashberry ["At North Farm"]

Short, non-fiction, story:
(meant to be comical, above all else.)

Last night I decided at 9:30 p.m. that I was going to see a movie. By myself. On my scooter. In the rain. But with no homework to do and all my roommates gone, it was a good idea. I drove up University Avenue and arrived at the theater. There were about 30 cars in the parking lot and at least 4 people working. It was a very slow Wednesday night. I gave the guy my ticket, which he tour poorly, ripping half of the movie title off. In a monotone voice he said, "Down the hall. Last theater on the right." I got into the auditorium and, to my delight, I was the only one there. I picked the seat in the exact middle of the theater, my helmet and scarf sat to my left.

The movie was amazing. It made me smile, made me cry, made me fall in love John Keats' poetry, ripped my heart out and increased my adoration of England and British accents. (The movie is called "Bright Star." Go see it.) I sat through all the credits, listening to the beautiful poetry of John Keats read over top cello music. I wiped away the tears, picked up my helmet, put on my jacket, checked my phone for missed calls (none) and headed out of the theater. It was 12:15 a.m.

I walked down the hall, glancing around one corner to see a long hall way ending in glass doors that lead to the parking lot. Unsure of whether that was close to where my scooter was parked, I kept walking to the main lobby. To my surprise, it was completely dark and the exit was blocked off. My heart beat a little faster as I realized I was all alone.

Oh my gosh, I was all alone. In a dark theater. In the middle of the night.

I'm pretty sure that's when people get murdered and the custodian finds their body the next day in a trash can, covered in popcorn and Raisinettes.

I don't even like Raisinettes!

Turning quickly on my heal, I practically sprinted back to the other hallway ending in glass doors. One door was propped open slightly. As I pushed on it, I glanced out into the parking lot. All the cars were gone. All of them. My scooter sat alone in the middle of a vast expanse of blacktop. I knew that was the place people got murdered. But there is no body, or if they do find one, it's in a ditch or a river a year later.

My heart was pounding as I scanned the area, looking for anyone who might pose a threat. I clutched the sharpest key on my key chain between my index and middle fingers, ready to jab it into the eye of an attacker. I shoved my helmet onto my over-sized head, only to realize with a gasp of terror that it deafened me and blocked my peripheral vision. My breathing had now matched the pace of my wildly beating heart.

"I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. I can't see, I can't hear, I'm gonna die."

With shaking fingers I struggled to zip up my jacket. I wrapped my scarf around my neck, my keys still tight between my fingers. With a moment of hesitation, I released the grip on my keys to put them in the ignition and pull on my gloves. My heart was on the verge of exploding as it reached the pace of a humming bird's.

"No one will even hear me scream. I CAN'T scream! My helmet is blocking my mouth! I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die..."

It was raining and my seat was wet, but because I valued my life more than my pants, I jumped on the scooter anyway and, had it not been raining and the asphalt slippery, I would've sped away. Still nervous of an attacker, I whipped my head back and forth as I cruised through the parking lot, scanning the trees and bushes for any sign of movement.

My breathing slowed and my heart relaxed as I got onto University Avenue.

I had survived.

So, my Facebook photo uploading application hates me, so I'm going to post pictures here instead. Here are some from Amy and Jared's wedding in September.

Kelsey and me at the reception.

Jared and Amy with some stellar facial hair.



Gent and Ellie. They swiped a couple bride's maids' bouquets.


  1. That sounds like a dramatic story! I love the pictures.

  2. the raisinette part made me laugh so hard. You are so creative. HOw lucky am I to have a sister with such a bright imagination.