Two, and three.

I've got finals coming up, just like everyone else. I'm beginning to feel the crunch. It gets worse when I think about the 4-day weekend we're taking this Easter to fly on over to Texas to see my grandparents, the Orclette's great-grandparents. Totally worth doing, don't regret it at all ('sides, my mother would've done something scary had we not shown up) BUT I'm missing quite a bit of study time in which I could: 1. Write my autobiography 2. Write my 3-5 page paper about Richard Write's autobiography 3. Write out my study review for Roots of Modern Europe. I've gotten 102% on the tests so far in that class and don't plan on stopping. 4. Do the reading for the above history class (the chapters are really really long) 5. Catch up on the reading for my East Asia class 6. Do auxiliary reading for my East Asia class so I understand what the heck's going on 7. Look over the next chapter in Spanish and attemp...

How do you do a before-script? Like P.S. only at the beginning? Anyway, that's what this is. Check out Damm's story below-it was good enough to distract me from the book I am currently reading (and that's hard to do). So, the lack of chocolate. It's all my mum's fault. When we brought the Orclette home, I discovered a box of biscotti by my bedside. I wasn't that hungry, thought I'd never get through an entire box, but I was wrong. Middle of the night feedings had me STARVING and so I'd munch on one, stomach would be contentified, and then I'd zonk out again. Wake up in the morning for my coffee and hey, wouldn't a biscotti go nicely with that? Eventually biscotti morphed into chocolate and here we are. I must have chocolate with my coffee. There was a brief hiatus. Morning sickness made the drinking of coffee and the eating of chocolate impossible. It was a very sad period of my life. I wouldn't simply call it being addicted, although it was ...

Anna smiled and waved to the kids as she entered the class room. A thin wiry elf with tightly braided blond hair, she managed to be both aloof and inviting at the same time. The kids she taught at the volunteer clinic in the south eastern Albuquerque sprawl blossomed under her tutelage. Their parents also became open and outgoing in her presence, no matter how shy and recalcitrant they may have been to start with. And yet no one, not even the oldest of volunteers, knew much about Ms. Anna. All questions were answered vaguely and the subject would change deftly to a different topic. This status-quo had been maintained for many years. "Muss Amma Muss Amma come see my picture!" "Muss Amma I made you a birdday chard!" "Muss Amma! Look at how good a babelrina I am!" "What a pretty picture Mario! A birthday card!? Is it for me Jenna? Is it my birthday? Wow good job Tina, you are a very beautiful ballerina." "No Muss Amma it is my birdday...