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Sunday, October 30, 2011

I Love Halloween

First off, if you're a West Chester University student and a good friend of mine, please read this:

In honor of celebrating Halloween, please join me at either of the following times:

Halloween morning at 10am in Swope Music Building. I will be playing my rendition of some Halloween music (beginnings only) and some special music in the organ room. Please meet me in the main lobby and I will let you into the room where we can get into the spirit through song.

Halloween afternoon at 12 noon at Sykes. I will be having a little Halloween celebration complete with cupcakes and some food. :)

Please join me for this wonderful day. :) Plenty of picture opportunities as well!


Dad, mom and I carved pumpkins tonight. I made a cool one. Let me share. :)

Saturday, October 29, 2011

White Halloween

I can't sleep, mind is racing too much. We had snow today, which is rare in PA for October. So, I wrote a poem. Sometimes I love being manic because it seems like it's when I write the best stuff and I hope to be done a book in a few weeks. Please let me know what you think. :)

Finally finished my White Halloween poem. Please let me know what you think"

White Halloween

© 2011 by Jessica Marie. All rights reserved and no copying.

I’m dreaming of a white Halloween
none like the ones I knew before;
what’s that above the frozen flake, the ghoul queen?
Dressed in her finest black and purple hat
and ghosts hide and play,
under snowy grass, waiting to attack and spook
trick-or-treaters haunting streets all day,
rob them blind of their Pay Days and Milky Ways,
but what about Dracula’s fangs or red wax lips—
gnashing and gnawing, can they save their booty?
No, no match to the invisible ghosts and their finger tips,
and the ghoul queen, green as could be,
hungry not for blood, but a good treat.
So, I’m dreaming of a white Halloween,
like none of the ones I knew before,
where invisible ghosts due to eight inches of snow,
mean no harm, it’s only fear and lore,
and hunger for candy not eaten in years,
but they will share with trick-or-treaters
and the scarecrows of the lawns and the ghoul queen,
trick all night of blood jelly fill the liters—
unlike the horrors and the frights;
I’m dreaming of a white Halloween
not like the ones I used to know,
where I can befriend ghost and a ghoulish queen.

Friday, October 28, 2011

أنا مريض

كان أنا مريض. Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been sick. Needless to say, I suppose that is what flu shots, public transportation, library work and my dad's sickness, it was bound to happen. I work tomorrow from 10am-noon to make up time, so I will be writing (and reading) until my Halloween party at 9pm with Old School. :) Anyway, check out this blog. Purple Ted is awesome, so follow his stories. :)

Purple Ted on Blogspot

Purple Ted on Facebook

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Daily Positive Affirmation 10/22/2011 -- Halloween Party

Today was my Halloween party. Although, all who RSVPed didn't show up, my three good friends that did, we had a good time. Although, the plate game I had planned didn't work too well and I forget the donut eating contest, we caught up while eating our sandwiches. Also, Zach came and I hadn't seen him in three years. He moved back into the area and it was so nice seeing him. :) Although I didn't have the grand feast I planned, it felt nice spending the evening with my best friends. It is time like these when no one else shows, that the people who do show are your best friends and are there no matter what.

Next week is the Beer Fest at Iron Hill Brewery. I am not a fan of beer, but I want to check it out especially since there is an actual pumpkin keg there. :) And I can go dressed up in my Clay Matthews costume. Then Bones said he can take me to see Old School next week, so I can dress up again, I hope Bones doesn't change his mind. I love getting dressed up. ♥
Fun night; tomorrow is Packers day! GO PACK GO!

Friday, October 21, 2011

Tea Time

I went for tea at the Lincoln Room today. I decided that today I would take a mental health day and skipped my 1pm class. My 9am class was canceled, but the Lincoln Room doesn't open until 10:30. Anyway, it was so nice to see everyone again. I love that place.

1st and 2nd pictures are of the cup of my one favorite tea: Ginger's Oolong.
3rd picture is the Butternut Squash soup and tea sandwiches.
4th picture is the yummy lemon lavender scone.

I am thinking about writing something in my book about this place. What do you think? I just love the Lincoln Room and the people there. :)

I also stopped by the Cat Hospital and saw Ernie, the office cat:

And finally, I drew this in English class as we talked about Freud's Psychoanalytic Theory:

Thursday, October 20, 2011

(Young Lust) Love Poem

(Young Lust) Love Poem

Dear Clay,

I write to you,

not only because my love

is too strong, it’s true—

I digress, I write to you,

because I will be sending along

my green jersey, #52, worn through

and blessed by the glory of Lambeau,

a pilgrimage I will never forget;

saving money high and low

to see this wonderful shrine, the team and you!

But, anyway, I digress again,

I write to you, I know, I’m past due;

in two weeks’ time I will be buying anew,

#52 is peeling from too much wear,

and living in Philadelphia (boo!)

I get heckled ten-fold from mad

Eagles’ fans crazy for Vick

(in which ways I am not sure, some call him bad).

So, if you would please,

considering how much I love you,

please sign my favorite jersey;

it’s the least you can do—

coming all the way from Philly

to see and love you

and harassed for my team spirit,

it would mean the world to me,

to see my jersey and hear it

(that you signed my jersey, I’d smile and gloat in glee)

that Clay Matthews lovingly signed

my favorite, worn out, faded green jersey.

(though worn out would be an understatement,

as anyone who knows me can testify,

that my love for you and the Packers is a testament

to the fact that I bleed green and yellow,

and wins that make you 6-0 fill me with joyous bellows.)

Love (and forever yours),


P.S. You will find attached to this letter,

a picture of me this Halloween dressed up as you,

to get an idea that is much better

than this letter can ever express to you,

that my fanaticism runs deep and is true.

(P.S.S: Although I will never be an Eagles fan,

I forgive your brother that he sold his skills

to this “dream team,” the Ducks should ban—

but, I understand; it’s a career start,

and could provide interesting competition when you two no longer part.)

Wednesday, October 19, 2011


I'm sorry I haven't updated in a few days. Been really busy and tired. On Sunday I went to Philadelphia and had a blast. Here is the album:

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Daily Positive Affirmation 10/15/2011 -- Getting Ready for Halloween

And I bought a new teddy bear today. Her name is Juli and her friend is Ghoulie. Let's welcome Juli and Ghoulie to my family!

Trying to be positive...

I bought a bunch of Halloween stuff today, but I will paint the pumpkin later. I am just really depressed. :(

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Thankful Thursday/Daily Positive 10/13/Lincoln Room Tea

Today after work at job #1 (took off of job #2 today and yesterday), mom, dad and I went to the Lincoln Room. I love that tea room; the women are so sweet and the environment is so warm and welcoming. I found it in April 2009 and I am so glad I found it. :)

Susan Johnstone, the wonderful owner. Very sweet and I always love seeing her when going for tea. She really takes care of me. :)

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Miss Scarlett

Skin Deep Beauty

Beauty is more than

the soft calico coat,

her beautiful eyes; to boast

would be an understatement—

hours of grooming spent,

brushing the matte;

carefully cleaning her small cats.

A mother’s love never fails

or falters in trouble’s sails—

the waves of danger; ice and fire,

the heat never tires

in flashes of red, orange and yellow.

“Where are they?” her mews bellow,

the burning effigy

man’s carelessness never flees.

Forgetting her beautiful calico mane

perfectly brushed, the matte tamed;

clear blue eyes as telescopes—

the sweetness of spice and soaps;

molten goo to disfigure, watch out for lye,

watch for the indigo and scarlet dye;

it is almost enough to stop her—

crack, crunch “Get help, dear sir!”

she hears the shrill voice down below,

the timbers crunch, creak and glow.

But, how will she ever get out?

“Children come here.” her mews shout;

if only they’d come—it’s so hot—

“Look! That cat there that trots!”

“What is that she got?”

“Kittens! And a whole lot—“

“Call the hospital! Look at her!”

Beauty is more than how you once were;

perfect calico mane, soft and tame,

beautiful blue eyes, you could blame

the furious flames, disfiguring your face,

charring your fur, where heat was placed

leaves the scars and singes on your ears.

Yet, you never tear

in bitterness and vain

or never cry in memory’s pain.

For beauty resides in the heart

And love for children that never parts.

So remember, beauty is more than

the soft calico coat or perfect skin.

Do cats have 9 lives?

Eat, sleep, play, courage, valor

Loving family.

Lonely waif creature

Purr-purring that melts your heart

You brightened our lives.


Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Halloween Positive Affirmations

I love Halloween. In fact, I consider this more my holiday than Christmas. I love the lore behind this magical day and of course dressing up (which will be for another positive affirmation post). This year I am planning a party. I've always wanted to throw my own Halloween party since it seems like I am always going to other peoples' parties. I just need some help planning.

My party is October 22nd at 5pm. I told people to bring candy and a treat bag because we'd have our own little trick-or-treat thing going. Would that sound too childish? I figure we all love candy and at a certain age we miss going trick-or-treating. I was going to have people set their treat bag on the table and throughout the night, people would randomly place a treat in. Maybe I ought to rescind bringing a treat bag, just the candy and I would just get some of the paper bags I have left from my party and fill them before they get there and as they walk in, they could put candy in each bag. What would sound better?

I have no idea what else we can do. I don't want it to be too childish. They're definitely getting dressed up (of course, that's what Halloween is all about!), so maybe there could be a contest for best costume? Then I could just give them something fun and inexpensive. But, that might not be fun, so I want to scrap that. I know for a few years at my friend Elizabeth's parties, we would have a donut eating contest and whomever won got a small little prize. I always found that fun, as shown in the picture from 2009:

In 2009 my friend Joyce also had a Halloween party two weeks before Halloween. I remember there was a lot of dancing and a lot of other just let whatever happen happen. Here is the album from Fall 2009 and I will post the Halloween album from 2010. Please, please, please help me with more activities!

Mom is planning the main meal... we're just getting it catered from Wegmans. We will have two punches: alcoholic and non-alcoholic. I will be making this, though (which you will see in the 2010 album, but I will post it here too)

Rice Krispy treat ghosts. I made them with margarine at nan's house. This year I am going to make with butter since it should hold them together better. I just love all the treats you can make at Halloween. :) And of course, I will be dressing up as Clay Matthews. I just need to get yellow pants.

And of course: here is the cool invite I made to send to people. :)

Daily Positive Affirmations

I know, it's been a while. I'm starting it back up. I found this interesting article:

The Packers also won Sunday night! 5-0! The Lions also won last night, they're 5-0 as well. I was reading the comments of this article:

I hope the Pack has them beat!

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Organ/ Old School Rocks Screwballs/ Longwood Gardens/ Packers

I caved in and installed Chrome. The longer video I was trying to upload actually worked. Here it is:

Like I said the other day, you will be tired of hearing Silent Night before Christmas even starts!

Last night I saw Old School at Screwballs and it was so much fun. I was dirty dancing with this one guy (and his wife didn't mind) lol. It was E.C., the 2nd guitarist, last show and it was Terry's (female lead singer) birthday. Night to remember. Here are some pictures and an album.

O.S. Rocks Screwballs/E.C.s Last Solo/Terry's Bday

Today mom, dad and I went to Longwood Gardens and it was so much fun, though a little tiring from all the walking. However, it was worth the walking because it's just a beautiful place. Mom and dad became members, so we'll be going back a lot.

Sounds of Nature -- Longwood Gardens 10-9-11


Friday, October 7, 2011

Complete Silent Night

I have a feeling that you all are going to be tired of Silent Night before Christmas even starts!

I have one with the pedals too, but for some reason, it won't upload anywhere. Does anyone know how to edit videos?

Dairy Queen

I wrote this for my childrens lit class. We could only write 1850 words and let me tell you it was hard. Later when I get more time, I want to add a lot more to it. I was talking to one of my favorite English profs I take the bus with and I was telling her how I would love to be a scholarly writer. So, I am going to try. :) Anyway, here is the analysis so far... when I add more, I will post.

Jessica Marie
Dr. Pat Pflieger
LIT 220/ Fall 2011
4 October 2011
            The once bright sun sets on the stadium, the chilly winds blow against fans dressed in green and yellow, now a source of warmth besides our beloved fan gear. We start heckling the opposing team and the fans dressed in their jerseys and the face paint that covers their faces—we begin to dance and like wild animals as we chant the Fight Song. Although this is a recollection from my memory of a Packers game I went to in Green Bay, it fits the mood and style of Catherine Murdock’s novel Dairy Queen. A coming of age tale, it is through football that the protagonist, D.J. Schwenk, learns about her wants and desires instead of her father’s and in the process she becomes a better friend, sister, and daughter and in her growing process figures out she can be great as her brothers in her own way.
            Dairy Queen is set in Red Bend, Wisconsin, a town and high school (which are a centrifugal part of a teenager’s life) that D.J. describes as small. D.J.  states that because of the school’s smallness, their football team only “play[s] eight-on-eight instead of eleven on the side” (6). D.J. makes reference to this fact because they aren’t as good as their rival Hawley, a school that has twice the amount of players, “win everything” and “Hawley kids and some Hawley grownups too, act like [Red Bend] stinks and they’re the best” (7). Only one time that D.J. remembers that Red Bend beat Hawley and D.J. talks about how her brother Win was the greatest, but her brother Bill was even better, but still whenever she thinks about Hawley “all [she] feels is pissed off” (8). However, in the tone that is implied, it sounds like Bill or Win still didn’t make the team as good as it could have been possibly because hey choked from pressure and messes up or they were typical teenagers who didn’t always practice like D.J. claims. It is in this heroic story about her brothers; at least in the beginning the reader again assumes this; contributes a stronger rivalry between the two schools and adds to the air that is similarly felt in Green Bay and Milwaukee, that sports are important and a part of life to Wisconsinites. D.J. drives this point home when she receives a Vikings jersey for her birthday, but only “can wear it around the house because if I wore it to school I’d get beat up, all the other kids are such Packers fan. Teachers, too” (88) or when her mother caught her running with Brian—she simply couldn’t use sports as an excuse because “[talking about] Vikings drafts wouldn’t work, seeing as Brian follows Green Bay” (79) or using the excuse of “asking how truck sales were going [would be] the stupidest thing of all—“(79) since it is not a sport and she could care less. It is in these passages where the reader sees that D.J. is making an implied statement: maybe Red Bend is too focused on sports to see what is within people and limiting associations because of football team associations.
            The style of this novel is a memoir narrative, which we don’t find out in the end. It is in this memoir style that D.J. has to write in order to pass tenth grade English, which Dairy Queen comes full circle and explains some of the assumptions the readers have at the beginning of the book and ties up loose ends. It is in this style that we see D.J. metamorphose from a person “who complained inside and just covered it up by doing whatever Dad wanted, like frosting that covers up a bad cake” and realizing that “maybe all day long [cows] are seething and you just can’t tell. They just keep getting milked and chewing their cud and having babies because they didn’t know any better” (72) to a person who decides her own destiny and can finally talk to her parents. It is through Brian’s analogy “you’re [like] a cow. And one day in about fifty years they’re going to put you on a truck and take you away to die an you’re not going to mind that either”(25) to make the point that D.J. never rebels like someone else her age would have done if they were the only ones working a farm. Although it offends her at first, D.J. begins to take a hard, long look at her life and realizes that she does things without saying a word, but is passive-aggressive and blames others for her quitting basketball, her failing tenth grade English and not being able to go to college, but she blames her father for tearing apart the family when “they [dad, Win and Bill] had a huge fight and Bill and Win left and we haven’t spoken to them since” because “it was stupid” (143).
Through this memoir narrative the reader sees Erikson’s theory of psychosocial moratorium or when “the adolescent can experiment with different roles and identities, in a context that permits and encourages this sort of exploration” which ultimately leads to the teenager “see their parents as all-knowing or all-powerful. [In this stage] adolescents often have a great deal of emotional energy wrapped up in relationships outside the family; in fact, they may feel more attached to a boyfriend or a girlfriend than to their parents.”[1] It is through psychosocial moratorium that D.J. realizes that she’s not the only “cow,” but her family has issues; Curtis doesn’t talk out of fear of starting an argument like Bill and Win did over the holidays when “Win was saying he didn’t think he’d get drafted, and Dad made a crack about how he wasn’t working hard enough. And Win said if Dad worked as hard at farming as Win did in football, then the farm would break even. And then Dad got real mad and said it was going to be their farm someday, and Win said he didn’t want it. Dad’s exact words were: “if you’re so damn unhappy, why don’t you clear out now? And Win stood up and glared at Dad and went right upstairs and Bill followed. We hadn’t seen them since” (143).or her mother who always works to get out of the house. D.J. spots a picture of Bill and a teammate on her mother’s work printer and realizes her mother works long hours to “write to Win and Bill” since she found his picture sitting on her printer after Bill e-mailed her (151-154) and get away from the chaos in the house that goes on because she is the peacekeeper.
            Brian, D.J.’s antagonist, is another key factor in D.J.’s transformation because he allows D.J. to undergo the important process into teenagerdom [sic] not only through the cow comment, but their one on one. Brian and D.J.’s views about each other change as well. In the beginning of the novel when Brian first comes to work on the Schwenks’ farm, D.J. despises this fact and it is her father that states, “D.J., aren’t you going to say hello”(10), but of course D.J. said “no,” letting her immaturity and anger for Brian picking on Bill two years before show through. We also see immaturity in Brian as well, especially when Brian “bails” from his duties on the farm, then the night at the movies when his friends say, “Dairy Queen! Dairy Queen! Nelson, aren’t you going to say hi to Dairy Queen?” Brian just laughs at D.J. Yet, surprisingly Jimmy Ott, Dad’s best friend is a coach for Hawley (D.J. explains that even though he is from Hawley, the Schwenks still love him, which shows that there is something to the friendship that football doesn’t spoil) approaches D.J. about coaching Brian because he believes that she will “be the only one to get through to him.” Of course, D.J. states that Brian doesn’t respect her and Jimmy Ott tells her “Respect, D.J., is something you earn” (47) coupled with Mom and Dad’s advice of “Respect goes both ways. You don’t care for someone, they can tell” (51).
            It’s after the apologies of Brian for “for being such a jerk at that game,” (69) two years prior when Bill choked and Brian along with his Hawley teammates made fun of him; and “I’m sorry those guys called you names last week. And I’m sorry that I said that stuff about you being a cow and dying and all” (70), that Brian begins to open up to D.J. D.J. believes Brian has a perfect life, especially with a mother that is compared to Oprah Winfrey, that when D.J. was talking about the problems with her brother Curtis not talking and the Schwenk family not talking about their feelings that leads to the comment from Brian that although his mother is very aware of her feelings, however, “she’s so busy helping families that she is never home,” (110) so “Oprah Winfrey” never really sees how her lessons affect her own family. We also learn that Brian is not as self-absorbed as D.J. once thought, but the only reason he blames his team and coach for him not performing well in football is because his dad tells him nothing is wrong. D.J. learns from her dad of course to be kind while coaching, but not to hold back in areas of improving; hence, why Brian respects her and all the training he has to do because of her.
            Along the lines of psychosocial moratorium, D.J. spends all her time with Brian and through their shared intimacy of expressing feelings and thoughts (she also realizes she has fun with Brian) she begins to develop a crush on him although she calls him “the guy that I am in love with” (184). This newfound crush of hers helps her push away from her father, especially when she says “His name is Brian. Brian Nelson. Is that so hard? Listen: B.R.I.A.N.” (124) and then storms out, realizing that she always wanted to play football and since she was helping Brian she ought to. However, the reader also sees this process not only with her parents, but with her best friend Amber. At the beginning of the book, Amber was her best friend that she knew everything about and could have fun with like the one time at a sleepover “she did an imitation of me being carried across the threshold on my honeymoon, carrying me and everything” (28) that foreshadows what D.J. will learn later on.
            However, after meeting Brian she realizes that everyone is like cows “even Bill and Win” and when Amber begs her to get a job with her SuperSave so they can “buy that F-150 [pickup] together” (90) that D.J. realizes that she doesn’t want that and tells Amber “Don’t the checkout ladies remind you of cows [because] well, you know with the way they stand there”(91). Of course, she hides the fact she is hanging out with Brian and has a crush on him, Amber ultimately finds out and in the worst of ways—when Brian and D.J. are having a water fight with the garden hose. Amber storms off, but later she tells D.J. “guys like Brian don’t go for basketball starters who also farm, but cute short girls” (161), which almost seems like a jealousy thing a best friend would say. It is not until the following night when D.J. is at a party and is a little drunk that Amber blurts out “”you’re with me. You’re not with him. It’s the two of us. Don’t you realize?” (169). D.J. learns that Amber is a lesbian, which makes her realize she is “that word—lesbian, gay, homosexual—they’re like medical words. Like cancer” (169). Of course, as she lets go of hanging out with Amber all the time, Amber develops a relationship with another girl and D.J. notices how happy Amber looks since she came out about her orientation.
            Although, Dairy Queen ends with D.J. not knowing what is going to happen between her and Brian, there is a finality in the novel because her family is now on speaking terms after Bill comes to D.J.’s football game, D.J.’s dad realizes that she can’t always run the farm that she has desires as well (it came out that her father loves to cook) and D.J. learns that Curtis never talks because of his fear that he will not be accepted into the family since he wants to be a dentist instead of something relating to sports. It is through the course of the summer that D.J. becomes a young adult and realizes there is more to her life than just her family and football, which is the whole point Murdock was trying to make.

[1] D.W. Dance. “During the Psychosocial Moratorium.” September 2009. <> Accessed: 03 October 2011.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Autumnal Path

The Autumnal Path
          I always take tea, catnip or strawberry chamomile depending on the mood I am on any given day, in the afternoon—2pm to be exact—as I sit in my office with the door wide open. Usually boiling water in my handy electric tea pot is relaxing from a long day of teaching classes and dealing with faculty. This tea break also gets me ready for students—hence why my door is wide open—who are in bad relationships, which mostly includes violence of some sort, and looking for constructive ways of handling it, which usually involves them getting out of such a relationship if possible. Some tenured faculty believes that this a good fit for me, as a thirty-year-old and one of the youngest professors here.
          So, tea time is my relaxation time and the classical music I softly play on the radio helps ease my mind—
          “Excuse me,” a meek voice calls into the office. I look up; a young woman—19, a freshman most likely—with long blonde hair stares into my barely decorated office.
          “Yes, come in and please shut the door,” I reply to the girl. I notice as she walks in that blonde isn’t her natural colour and that it is badly dyed—her black roots are showing and some spots of her hair weren’t dyed at all.  She closes the door too forcefully and knocks off the calendar with SEPTEMBER only showing.
          “How may I help you, miss?” I inquire after the reverberations of the slamming door hums to a forceful silence.
          “Well,” she replies nervously, “I am having problems with my boyfriend…”
          “Go on, you’ve come to the right place, everything we talk about is confidential,” I say in hopes that she becomes comfortable enough to open up to me.
          “We have been dating for six months—“ she begins to trail off again. I say nothing; I know damn well how hard it can be to open up to an adult about any type of problems. I give her a look, or I hope I exude this look, of compassion.
          “Well, I really do like him, but I dunno…” she begins trailing off again; I am starting to get annoyed, I know I shouldn’t be because this young lady came to me for help, but her inability to keep a thought going irritated me. I try not to let it show. But, I never met anyone who was so reluctant to talk, even I wasn’t that bad in my 20s. I decide to take another approach.
          “What’s your name?” I ask her.
          “Why do you need to know?”
          “Since we’re talking, we should get to know one another.”
          “Oh, well my friends call me Micky Finn.”
          “Wait, what? How did you get a name like that?”
          She shrugs and doesn’t answer. I proceed to ask, “What year are you in?”
          “I don’t know, second I guess.”
          “Oh. What is your favorite subject?”
          “I don’t know.”
          She was beginning to irritate me again. How could you not know what your favorite school subject is? So, I ask the question out of spite; “is your boyfriend causing issues with you in completing your classes? Is he influencing what used to be a favorite class of yours and he doesn’t like it?”
          She blinks at me, with what I notice to be beautiful light brown eyes. They begin to mist and she whispers “it’s just really hard to talk about—“
          “Look,” I snap at her, “I can’t read your mind, but you really need to put words to your feelings,” I hiss. I didn’t mean to, but god damn, she is annoying me.
          “I knew you wouldn’t understand,” she begins to cry and abruptly gets up out of the black lounge chair she was sitting in. Before I can apologize for not knowing what came over me and to beg her to sit back down, she is out the door.
          Although she annoys me, I get off my chair with my favorite quilt on the back and run out into the hallway leaving my hot herbal tea behind.  The pulsating voices; the reverberations of a myriad of conversations flood my ears. But, out of the corner of my right ear, I hear sobs—my eyes that are fixated on the girls gossiping next to me, I gaze up and see the bobbing of the poorly dyed hair.
          I run so fast, probably faster than I used to run when I was trying out for the football team and faster than when I ran in order not to miss my flight to Green Bay to see the Packers game, to catch the elevator with her.  Out of breath I arrive at the elevator despite the hustle and bustle of students happily getting out and loudly talking to best buds about getting drunk. In the cacophony of confusion and rushing, I hear,
          “What was that? I’m sorry I can’t hear you.” Her voice sounds strained and I could tell she was nervous in the way her voice creaked. I spot the girl with the poorly dyed hair, which I found to be a better nick name for her than Micky Finn, who would nick name someone like that? Anyway, she is chattering on her phone.
          “Fine, I’ll meet you—“ her voice fades and I can’t catch where she is meeting whom she is talking to, although it sounds like she barks into the phone. She is too much in a daze to notice me following her onto the elevator.
          I follow her down onto the first floor. Looking at her on the trip down the elevator, I didn’t realize how tired she looked. She is gaunt and thin. I don’t know why she didn’t notice me at that point, but I could tell she had too much on her mind. Still, it annoyed me more that she didn’t notice me. What if I was a crazy stalker getting ready to kill her?
          The elevator stops and she quickly steps out; I almost lose her, but I follow the tint of her hair bobbing down the three stairs to the door and it reminds me of the one year I dyed my hair that colour.
          The sun blinds me for a moment. As I get my sight back, I notice the beautiful bright leaves that decorate the trees. I haven’t noticed this before today and I notice how cold it is as the wind violently blows against my bare arms.
          I see the girl again. She is rushing to the old building—I remember it used to be the sociology building; I think it still is from what I overhear.
          She stops in front of the sociology building where a guy—her boyfriend I am assuming—is waiting. I move a little closer and I face her boyfriend. He looks familiar, he looks to be a body builder with how muscular he is, with a tan and is dressed like a punk; yet, I can’t place where I have seen him before.
          “You’re psychotic,” I hear him say. His voice is loud, yet it doesn’t look like he has moved his mouth at all. Then the gaping black hole opens, gnashing his blood fangs, “I regret ever meeting you. I hate you,” the coldness in his voice freezes over me and the callousness tears at the bottom of my stomach, “we’re through.”
          The sun shines, and with her blonde hair, it reflects the sun light on to me. It reminds me of someone sitting in interrogation with the light on them waiting for their confession. She begins to cry and through the sobs like the perpetrator in the hot seat with that light shining down upon him, I hear the desperation “but please stay. I can change! Please!”
          “You’re pathetic, you know that? You’re crying like the little girl you are. It’s over and nothing can change my mind!” I could feel the sting in that comment, it is pathetic that she pleading and begging this jerk to stay with her as if she is his pet.  He walks away. She turns around to call him back and to my surprise, she is my mirror image. He is gone into the distance now; I want to grab her and apologize for how annoyed I was with her and of course to comfort her.
          As soon as I walk to her, the sun disappears into the now blackened sky. The sky opens in a downpour of cold tears, leaves blow in the cacophony of gray bluster and she is gone. As cars pass me, I think it was a car or was it a jogger running by me with his tape deck cranked up; I stand there in confusion—
Scar tissue that I wish you saw, sarcastic mister know it all, close your eyes and I’ll kiss you—

          I hear the cell phone snap shut.
          “Good afternoon,” a professor’s loud voice that comes from the hall startles me from my deep thoughts, my hands fly up and down in the excitement and my tea spills. Grabbing napkins next to me to clean up, I notice the picture of me when I was 19 with badly dyed blonde hair, dark heavy eyes of my once depressed self. How clumsy of me to spill the tea as I was pathetically startled by the ringtone playing my favorite song and the loud voice coming at me from the outside hall. Yet, I am happy that my favorite herbal tea spilled all over this picture.