I step out the door and all I see is rocks, grape vines, a swing, railroad tiles and a small garden. My backyard is very small and has no grass, mainly because I'm allergic to fresh mowed grass. I sit on the swing and look at how the grape vines are growing above to make a beautiful arbor, this is my home... this is where my memories are. There are so many stories in this small patch of land that sits behind my house.
Next to the swing, you can still see the outline of where my fort used to be. The rocks here are pushed far down into the ground... funny thing is, that fort was made out of PBC pipes, and we took it down about six years ago. I would run to this fort when my mom and sister were fighting... didn't work well in the winter since my fort didn't have a roof, but it was someplace to go so I didn't hear the yelling and slamming of doors. I'd sit in this fort for hours just reading, writing or look at the clouds. I could have moved my fort, it was light enough, but sitting right there behind the shed... I felt hidden. When the fort was up, the swing wasn't. I guess it is a good switch...
I love that swing, though its torn up from birds taking the stuffing for their nest every spring. My mom keeps saying she'll sew it up, but she never gets around to it. Oh well, doesn't take the enjoyment of sitting on it out. Sitting here was my favorite place to be after a hard day of school, I usually didn't want to be inside right away because my mom would want me to talk to her... like a normal teen, I didn't want to, so I would just sit there and collect my thoughts before going inside. I'd try to find one good thing from the day to tell my mom. I never wanted to tell her bad things... she's worked too hard every day, I don't want to add to the exhaustion by telling her that someone took my lunch money or something along those lines.
My mom is the one that put those railroad tiles back here to create garden boxes. She also put all the dirt in them, and plants the garden. Other than the grape vines, this garden is the only green we have back here. I love the garden, even in the fall when everything is dead and we haven't harvested it yet... even when everything is all brown, I still see the story and hope that spring is just around the corner, the memory of everything being green will return and become life again.
This backyard, though it is small, holds a lot of my memories... a lot of my stories. These stories are willing to be told to the right people, they just have to look carefully and be willing to listen. Everything back here tells a story whether big or small. Even the deck tells the story of the weeks my mom and a family friend spent building it. The stains on the cement remind everyone that I splat painted a pair of jeans, and the dent in the side of the house tells the story of a fight my mom and sister had to where my sister swung open the gate so fast it hit the house and left this curve.
My backyard back home, in small town Central Point, Oregon, tells the stories of childhood and teens. You have to look closely but they are there, just waiting to be told to someone who has interest. Just waiting for someone to sit on the torn up swing that is being engulfed by the grapevines, and notice that there's a patch of rock pushed deep into the ground in the shape of a perfect rectangle. Right where my fort used to sit.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
September 8th, 2010: Days.
So this morning I swear... my roommate had like 234,285,646,516,543,432 alarms go off to wake her up, and she didn't get up to any of them. This is starting to get annoying. The alarm is always set for an hour before I have to wake up, and then she never gets up until like ten minutes before I leave.
Then she is always on the phone or on Skype so I never get to talk to anyone. I've tried to talk to her, but nothing gets fixed.
Its days like these that just drive me crazy. Where I feel like I'm doing everything and nothing tends to work. I feel alone because everyone I love and rely on is miles and miles away. The few people I was still relying on, I feel like they stabbed me in the back.
I'm hurt, and I feel like I'm catching a cold.
I'm dizzy, and I'm tired.
I'm stuck, not knowing.
Tomorrow is my last day for the week, thank goodness, 'cause I'm not sure I can handle much more of this.
Then she is always on the phone or on Skype so I never get to talk to anyone. I've tried to talk to her, but nothing gets fixed.
Its days like these that just drive me crazy. Where I feel like I'm doing everything and nothing tends to work. I feel alone because everyone I love and rely on is miles and miles away. The few people I was still relying on, I feel like they stabbed me in the back.
I'm hurt, and I feel like I'm catching a cold.
I'm dizzy, and I'm tired.
I'm stuck, not knowing.
Tomorrow is my last day for the week, thank goodness, 'cause I'm not sure I can handle much more of this.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
September 4th, 2010: Till dinner
So today, I don't feel well. But luckily staying in bed gave me pleanty of time to finish my English essay that I wrote on the "bomb scare" at Crater
(My essay: "Community
We were separated into four different schools - among the big campus - but we were still supposed to call ourselves the Crater Comets because even though we're separated into four "groups", we're still part of the Crater campus. I'd like to know how it was going to be possible (to call ourselves Crater Comets) when there was so much hate and disrespect on this high school's campus? We had the “tree huggers and hippies” in school one, the “jocks, preps and geeks” in school two, the “hicks” in school three and the “emos, goths and theater nerds” in school four. This small school program was supposed to bring Crater together and make high school a better community when all it really did was separate us more and more... but, leave it to a bomb scare to make us realize that Crater High School is actually able to drop the stereotypes and just be there for each other.
March 3rd, 2010: fifteen minutes into the first period class... I’ve already been at school for a hour and a half, thanks to my early bird Chamber Choir class, so I’m already tired and counting down the hours till I get to go home but I still had a full day to get through. The substitute in my Health is taking attendance when a odd voice comes over the intercom. “All teachers on Crater campus take your class to the gym immediately.” This voice, which wasn’t the friendly voice of the lady in our office... or a voice of anyone on the Crater campus come to think of it, instead it was a recording and on repeat... all students are now panicked. We left our class room and see our principal running around, we hear cop cars and ambulances and to add to the fear there’s a S.W.A.T truck parked on the campus, in the middle of our court yard. Within five minutes at least 1,500 students are packed into the schools gym, but I can't find my small school then I realize it, we aren't separated into our small schools... why? I thought we hated each other, yet we're clumped together out of fear and compassion?
There’s “jocks” talking to “hicks”, there’s “emos” comforting crying “preps”. Is this really what Crater is like? I’m sitting in the bleachers, on the phone with my mom trying to find out what’s going on... I’m guessing its a senior prank of some sort... but as I sit there and look around I can’t see the separation, I see a community. We’ve all been in school with each other since pre-school, we all used to be friends, we used to share crayons and get in trouble for not sleeping during nap time! All that disappeared when we got into middle school and trying to concentrate on being “cool”, but here it is again. In a time of need, the support, encouragement and compassion is back. I’m speechless.
Community can be defined by the dictionary, but it can’t be understood until it is seen. I had been on teams, in clubs and with a group of people my whole life, but until this fake bomb (made out of a soda bottle and thrown into a trash can in the boys bathroom) scare in my high school... I was completely oblivious to what a community really is. Its a coming together of people, to support, care and love for one another especially in a time of need. Before any student knew what was going on there were tears out of fear and yelling out of being nervous, but most of all there was people trying to help calm them down. Community is never defined the same by everyone. I define community as being there for each other, as the Crater students were when some of us thought we were going to get killed... the next person might define community as a gathering of people in one place. You never know until you get four small parts of one big deal, finally acting as if we're all in this together and the stereotypes of high school don't matter... then a sign of community and an understanding of community really shines through the walls people built up.")
I went for a walk around campus to just get out of my dorm. Feel a little better now.
Apparently Casey and I are going to go to dinner: either Italian, Mexican or Chinese. Sounds like its adventure time. I'm slightly excited.
Also its UNLV Rebel's first football game so the campus is practically empty, and everyone will probably come back to campus and party: win or lose. Should be a long night, thankfully I don't have school on Monday so sleep will be great.
Wish I could go to the football game, I just don't want to drive. grr...
maybe next time?
Go Rebels... haha... funny.
(My essay: "Community
We were separated into four different schools - among the big campus - but we were still supposed to call ourselves the Crater Comets because even though we're separated into four "groups", we're still part of the Crater campus. I'd like to know how it was going to be possible (to call ourselves Crater Comets) when there was so much hate and disrespect on this high school's campus? We had the “tree huggers and hippies” in school one, the “jocks, preps and geeks” in school two, the “hicks” in school three and the “emos, goths and theater nerds” in school four. This small school program was supposed to bring Crater together and make high school a better community when all it really did was separate us more and more... but, leave it to a bomb scare to make us realize that Crater High School is actually able to drop the stereotypes and just be there for each other.
March 3rd, 2010: fifteen minutes into the first period class... I’ve already been at school for a hour and a half, thanks to my early bird Chamber Choir class, so I’m already tired and counting down the hours till I get to go home but I still had a full day to get through. The substitute in my Health is taking attendance when a odd voice comes over the intercom. “All teachers on Crater campus take your class to the gym immediately.” This voice, which wasn’t the friendly voice of the lady in our office... or a voice of anyone on the Crater campus come to think of it, instead it was a recording and on repeat... all students are now panicked. We left our class room and see our principal running around, we hear cop cars and ambulances and to add to the fear there’s a S.W.A.T truck parked on the campus, in the middle of our court yard. Within five minutes at least 1,500 students are packed into the schools gym, but I can't find my small school then I realize it, we aren't separated into our small schools... why? I thought we hated each other, yet we're clumped together out of fear and compassion?
There’s “jocks” talking to “hicks”, there’s “emos” comforting crying “preps”. Is this really what Crater is like? I’m sitting in the bleachers, on the phone with my mom trying to find out what’s going on... I’m guessing its a senior prank of some sort... but as I sit there and look around I can’t see the separation, I see a community. We’ve all been in school with each other since pre-school, we all used to be friends, we used to share crayons and get in trouble for not sleeping during nap time! All that disappeared when we got into middle school and trying to concentrate on being “cool”, but here it is again. In a time of need, the support, encouragement and compassion is back. I’m speechless.
Community can be defined by the dictionary, but it can’t be understood until it is seen. I had been on teams, in clubs and with a group of people my whole life, but until this fake bomb (made out of a soda bottle and thrown into a trash can in the boys bathroom) scare in my high school... I was completely oblivious to what a community really is. Its a coming together of people, to support, care and love for one another especially in a time of need. Before any student knew what was going on there were tears out of fear and yelling out of being nervous, but most of all there was people trying to help calm them down. Community is never defined the same by everyone. I define community as being there for each other, as the Crater students were when some of us thought we were going to get killed... the next person might define community as a gathering of people in one place. You never know until you get four small parts of one big deal, finally acting as if we're all in this together and the stereotypes of high school don't matter... then a sign of community and an understanding of community really shines through the walls people built up.")
I went for a walk around campus to just get out of my dorm. Feel a little better now.
Apparently Casey and I are going to go to dinner: either Italian, Mexican or Chinese. Sounds like its adventure time. I'm slightly excited.
Also its UNLV Rebel's first football game so the campus is practically empty, and everyone will probably come back to campus and party: win or lose. Should be a long night, thankfully I don't have school on Monday so sleep will be great.
Wish I could go to the football game, I just don't want to drive. grr...
maybe next time?
Go Rebels... haha... funny.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
September 2nd, 2010: Little e-mail from home
So before I left home (August 16th, 2010) I e-mailed my high school English teacher, Mrs. Hillman, I had her as a teacher for three years and she was possibly one of my favorite English teachers I have ever had.
My email said:
"Mrs. Hillman!!!
Yes, the excessive punctuation is needed for this e-mail.
This e-mail is so I can tell you thank you.
Thank you so much for being an amazing teacher! I was in your class for three years and I still remember getting that first essay back and reading the comment from you saying 'your humor really shines through, and I love all your little side notes but you constantly over use commas and mix up 'to' and 'too' ', well I still get confused on the 'to' and 'too' stuff but my humor hasn't changed.
I also wanted to share that this coming Tuesday, and seeing as it is almost one in the morning (I'm doing last minute packing, so yes... I'm supposed to be up this late), I guess I can say tomorrow... I leave for Las Vegas. I got accepted into UNLV, and even better I got accepted into their dance program.
I thought I would thank you for this because you helped me so much, and just thought you'd like to know.
Hope you have a wonderful school year, Mrs. Hillman.
-Carly"
I just checked my email today and saw that on the 30th I got a response:
"Carly,
I love your note-- thank you so much! I am thrilled (though not that surprised!) that you will be in the UNLV dance program. Be wary if they want you to take off your shirt... it is Las Vegas, you know. :)
Good luck!
-Adrienne"
This little e-mail from home is now hanging on my wall.
As for school today:
My ballet teacher sat on me... no joke. It was for a purpose and it did help... but still, she sat on me! The purpose was to figure out how to have intensity in my arms... first time I dropped her... oops, second time though... I was able to have her sit. I was happy, and she even complimented it.
Modern was better today, as was choreography.
Then I had math, and a great math test... that I finished 45 minutes early so I got to leave.
All in all,
great day!
My email said:
"Mrs. Hillman!!!
Yes, the excessive punctuation is needed for this e-mail.
This e-mail is so I can tell you thank you.
Thank you so much for being an amazing teacher! I was in your class for three years and I still remember getting that first essay back and reading the comment from you saying 'your humor really shines through, and I love all your little side notes but you constantly over use commas and mix up 'to' and 'too' ', well I still get confused on the 'to' and 'too' stuff but my humor hasn't changed.
I also wanted to share that this coming Tuesday, and seeing as it is almost one in the morning (I'm doing last minute packing, so yes... I'm supposed to be up this late), I guess I can say tomorrow... I leave for Las Vegas. I got accepted into UNLV, and even better I got accepted into their dance program.
I thought I would thank you for this because you helped me so much, and just thought you'd like to know.
Hope you have a wonderful school year, Mrs. Hillman.
-Carly"
I just checked my email today and saw that on the 30th I got a response:
"Carly,
I love your note-- thank you so much! I am thrilled (though not that surprised!) that you will be in the UNLV dance program. Be wary if they want you to take off your shirt... it is Las Vegas, you know. :)
Good luck!
-Adrienne"
This little e-mail from home is now hanging on my wall.
As for school today:
My ballet teacher sat on me... no joke. It was for a purpose and it did help... but still, she sat on me! The purpose was to figure out how to have intensity in my arms... first time I dropped her... oops, second time though... I was able to have her sit. I was happy, and she even complimented it.
Modern was better today, as was choreography.
Then I had math, and a great math test... that I finished 45 minutes early so I got to leave.
All in all,
great day!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
August 31st, 2010: Not a good day...
College... college... what else can I say. It is just... college. Paying tons of money to have people stand in front of you and teach us things that will never be used in life. College. High school but a million times bigger and the chances of your teachers telling you that you're going to fail are higher. "We're here to help you"... yeah, sure. Help by putting me down, help by giving me that look of "well, she's never going to go anywhere." Yeah, I know that look, you think you're doing an excellent job at hiding it because "dancers are actors too" but hey, guess what.... you aren't perfect...
just don't tell your little primas that.
Imagine that, you're not perfect! Oh gosh! Sorry to burst your pink, sparkly, fluffy, spotlight, leotard wearing bubble... but its time for your reality check. Walking with your "buttock" clenched so it looks tiny, with your shoulders back and down... oh but not too far back... back straight with that slight arch (that supposedly is natural for your back to have), and in perfect turned out first... you think you either look like the graceful prima ballerina that "you are", or you think you look confident. When really added to all that, you accidentally have your nose to the air... you look like a stuck up, snooty, spoiled goose who is trying and failing to lay an egg.
As I said, reality check.
As you can tell, those of you who read this, today was not one of the best days.
I wear my knee brace to my classes so I don't get injured, well because of this I've had two teachers now say I should either get into a lower class or I should switch my major. If the teachers would just let my body get used to ballet (which I haven't done since I was 12!) and jazz... then I could show them, I'm up there with their little primas.
I'm sorry that I grew up in a small town and didn't go to a high dollar dance studio, and I'm sorry that my dance teacher(s) taught different. So I've been trained different... big deal.
Would these teachers rather give me the time of day and have me thank them and mention them by name when I get an award for choreography or would they rather be the snooty primas they are being and have me bash their names?
I'm not here to get seen, I'm here to learn. Stop telling me that I'm not going to make it anywhere, just because I don't get seen doesn't mean I'd make it in the profession.
Have any of them even talked to me to find out why I'm here? Haha, no!
I'm not here to get a job in one of the stage shows, I'm here to learn, to learn so I can teach.
Ugh!
just don't tell your little primas that.
Imagine that, you're not perfect! Oh gosh! Sorry to burst your pink, sparkly, fluffy, spotlight, leotard wearing bubble... but its time for your reality check. Walking with your "buttock" clenched so it looks tiny, with your shoulders back and down... oh but not too far back... back straight with that slight arch (that supposedly is natural for your back to have), and in perfect turned out first... you think you either look like the graceful prima ballerina that "you are", or you think you look confident. When really added to all that, you accidentally have your nose to the air... you look like a stuck up, snooty, spoiled goose who is trying and failing to lay an egg.
As I said, reality check.
As you can tell, those of you who read this, today was not one of the best days.
I wear my knee brace to my classes so I don't get injured, well because of this I've had two teachers now say I should either get into a lower class or I should switch my major. If the teachers would just let my body get used to ballet (which I haven't done since I was 12!) and jazz... then I could show them, I'm up there with their little primas.
I'm sorry that I grew up in a small town and didn't go to a high dollar dance studio, and I'm sorry that my dance teacher(s) taught different. So I've been trained different... big deal.
Would these teachers rather give me the time of day and have me thank them and mention them by name when I get an award for choreography or would they rather be the snooty primas they are being and have me bash their names?
I'm not here to get seen, I'm here to learn. Stop telling me that I'm not going to make it anywhere, just because I don't get seen doesn't mean I'd make it in the profession.
Have any of them even talked to me to find out why I'm here? Haha, no!
I'm not here to get a job in one of the stage shows, I'm here to learn, to learn so I can teach.
Ugh!
Friday, August 27, 2010
August 27th, 2010: Finally, the weekend.
So it is 8:54 Friday morning, and this is considered my weekend.
Last night was fun, small dorm floor party. Had too much sugar (with all the soda, ice tea and junk food I was eating) so I didn't get to sleep till about 2 last night.
Anyway, at about midnight the party ended so I hung out with Eric (Foot), Chris, Casey and Jacob. We started a back massage train. Me gusta much!
I think someone is knocking on my door! Nope.
Annyway...
Class yesterday was okay. One of my advisers said that I should look into doing dance as my Minor and getting a different Major... all because he saw me with my knee brace on. Yeah, that kinda hurt.
Margo made me feel better though.
Ballet was okay, I'm so not used to it and I think Dolly can tell. I just need to start remembering it all, that's all... everything is somewhere in my mind, in the very back far left corner, under lock and key.
Math was fine. Got there early so I could get a table, then end up sitting surrounded by guys. No joke.
I sat down at a totally empty side of the room, then a football player sat on my left, a skater to my right, a blond behind me and a red head in front of me!
Then was Premier... which was like the last day of the school year at Scenic. Only thing that made it worth going to was I got a free tee-shirt, and hearing the girls scream when the fireworks went off (not from excitement but because it scared them). Yeah, there were fireworks, because we had to stand in this huge thing that said UNLV so we made up the letters (think Scenic 7th grade year for me). This took like at least a half hour in itself to get it perfect.
All in all, it was a pretty good night... but I'm thankful its the weekend.
Last night was fun, small dorm floor party. Had too much sugar (with all the soda, ice tea and junk food I was eating) so I didn't get to sleep till about 2 last night.
Anyway, at about midnight the party ended so I hung out with Eric (Foot), Chris, Casey and Jacob. We started a back massage train. Me gusta much!
I think someone is knocking on my door! Nope.
Annyway...
Class yesterday was okay. One of my advisers said that I should look into doing dance as my Minor and getting a different Major... all because he saw me with my knee brace on. Yeah, that kinda hurt.
Margo made me feel better though.
Ballet was okay, I'm so not used to it and I think Dolly can tell. I just need to start remembering it all, that's all... everything is somewhere in my mind, in the very back far left corner, under lock and key.
Math was fine. Got there early so I could get a table, then end up sitting surrounded by guys. No joke.
I sat down at a totally empty side of the room, then a football player sat on my left, a skater to my right, a blond behind me and a red head in front of me!
Then was Premier... which was like the last day of the school year at Scenic. Only thing that made it worth going to was I got a free tee-shirt, and hearing the girls scream when the fireworks went off (not from excitement but because it scared them). Yeah, there were fireworks, because we had to stand in this huge thing that said UNLV so we made up the letters (think Scenic 7th grade year for me). This took like at least a half hour in itself to get it perfect.
All in all, it was a pretty good night... but I'm thankful its the weekend.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
August 25th, 2010: Crash?
Third day: down to an art!
Had English today and sat next to Mo (short for Mohammad, I'm guessing because he's from Lebanon). He's really sweet. I get to write my first essay on him... first essay topic: Ghost Writing. So I get to write about Mo... as if I was Mo. Hehe, fun! Oh and Paul (my English teacher) said a lovely quote: "It isn't like a science book that gives you content... it (English book) isn't like 'MIOSIS' ".
After that I had Jazz, talk to Richard (my jazz teacher) about switching out, he said if I need to that I should. I did the class and actually had some fun... even though it was a mix of Modern, Jazz and Hip hop... which still doesn't click in my mind!!! Grr.... but luckily I saw that I'm not the only one that is struggling in there. Makes me feel better.
After school, came back to my dorm and got ready to head to the (according to my sister) "dangerous" Walmart. Got some stamps and other goodies... and SURVIVED to tell about it. It was funny though because (this sounds awful, and I swear on my life I'm not racist) any time a white/Caucasian person saw another white/Caucasian person they got like this HUGE grin on their face, and it was like they had known each other for yeeeeeears. I got this from a lot of people and I've never seen them in my life!
While I was leaving Walmart, a stupid jeep pulled in front of Molly car and me which almost caused me to have my first accident. (Stupid girl was on her cell phone both talking on it and texting.) Luckily, Molly has really good breaks and likes to make her self heard with a very loud horn. Collision averted.
Molly car was really happy to get out and run around a little bit. She really likes that the slowest she has to go around here is 15 through parking lots. Though she hates sitting at lights and she gets a little hot headed about that, when she reaches the 30 marker she calms down a bit.
After my lovely, dangerous, heart-attack-giving trip to Walmart... I NEEDED a coffee so I went to The Coffee Bean and got my new "snickers" (though it not nearly as good as Dutch Bros.)... its a White Chocolate Blended coffee... yum.
Then I came back to my dorm, and tested my strength and make all of the stuff I have in one trip. That includes: four bags, my purse, a box of ice tea and my coffee!!! Got to my floor just fine and then a guy that lives up here asked if I needed help, probably would have taken it if I wasn't so stubborn. So got all that stuff to my dorm in one trip! SUCCESS!!!!
I'm still fairly sore, especially with making that one trip... my arm is still shaking.
All in all, great day.
Just took pictures of my dorm for Maria, 'cause she was complaining that she hadn't seen where I lived.
All of that done, and it's only 3:52... ah, life as a college student.
Had English today and sat next to Mo (short for Mohammad, I'm guessing because he's from Lebanon). He's really sweet. I get to write my first essay on him... first essay topic: Ghost Writing. So I get to write about Mo... as if I was Mo. Hehe, fun! Oh and Paul (my English teacher) said a lovely quote: "It isn't like a science book that gives you content... it (English book) isn't like 'MIOSIS' ".
After that I had Jazz, talk to Richard (my jazz teacher) about switching out, he said if I need to that I should. I did the class and actually had some fun... even though it was a mix of Modern, Jazz and Hip hop... which still doesn't click in my mind!!! Grr.... but luckily I saw that I'm not the only one that is struggling in there. Makes me feel better.
After school, came back to my dorm and got ready to head to the (according to my sister) "dangerous" Walmart. Got some stamps and other goodies... and SURVIVED to tell about it. It was funny though because (this sounds awful, and I swear on my life I'm not racist) any time a white/Caucasian person saw another white/Caucasian person they got like this HUGE grin on their face, and it was like they had known each other for yeeeeeears. I got this from a lot of people and I've never seen them in my life!
While I was leaving Walmart, a stupid jeep pulled in front of Molly car and me which almost caused me to have my first accident. (Stupid girl was on her cell phone both talking on it and texting.) Luckily, Molly has really good breaks and likes to make her self heard with a very loud horn. Collision averted.
Molly car was really happy to get out and run around a little bit. She really likes that the slowest she has to go around here is 15 through parking lots. Though she hates sitting at lights and she gets a little hot headed about that, when she reaches the 30 marker she calms down a bit.
After my lovely, dangerous, heart-attack-giving trip to Walmart... I NEEDED a coffee so I went to The Coffee Bean and got my new "snickers" (though it not nearly as good as Dutch Bros.)... its a White Chocolate Blended coffee... yum.
Then I came back to my dorm, and tested my strength and make all of the stuff I have in one trip. That includes: four bags, my purse, a box of ice tea and my coffee!!! Got to my floor just fine and then a guy that lives up here asked if I needed help, probably would have taken it if I wasn't so stubborn. So got all that stuff to my dorm in one trip! SUCCESS!!!!
I'm still fairly sore, especially with making that one trip... my arm is still shaking.
All in all, great day.
Just took pictures of my dorm for Maria, 'cause she was complaining that she hadn't seen where I lived.
All of that done, and it's only 3:52... ah, life as a college student.
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