3: September 2002 Archives
He had thin, wavy hair, limp with grease, and eyes creased at the corner. His skin was tanned, aged by the Texas summer, but camouflaged by a scruffy beard. His station in life was clear, and mine probably was, as well.
He approached me, and I ducked my head. I don't make eye contact with strangers if I can help it. He said, "Excuse me, Ma'am..." and my eyes glanced up again, involuntarily.
"I know that I look scary," he acknowledged, "but I'm really harmless. Do you think you could spare some change?"
"I'm really sorry," I replied. "I don't have any change at all today."
It's easier to lie when you're telling the truth.
I turned around and walked away, glancing briefly over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't being followed.
P.S. Happy birthday to my dear Dr. Y and to my favorite kid sister, who today is officially not a kid anymore. I hope she doesn't mind if I maintain the moniker, despite her new-found adulthood.
I've come to a very momentus decision.
I want a hedgehog.
I will name it Hedgewig.
Here's a little controversy for you. The New York Times printed an article (picked up by Slashdot) about students using Netspeak in class and formal writing. As might be expected, there were a few different philosophies represented.
The purists say,
"Kids should know the difference. They should know where to draw the line between formal writing and conversational writing."
The more accepting teachers point out that language is evolutionary, and that the legions of netspeaking teenagers are developing it and adapting it to their own needs.
Forgive me for being so late to catch onto this story -- I'm a girl without a newspaper. Seems there's a resident in Austin's very snooty Westlake Hills neighborhood who is selling her house (worth a half-million) because of a mold claim, and in the meantime, she's letting Leslie (our local eccentric and mayoral candidate, not She Who Must Be Obeyed) live there.
I've been a little scarce lately -- haven't been much in the mood to write or take pictures. No worries, I'm fine. Maybe it's just the season that has me feeling a little down. That blasted anniversary is coming up in three days, and like CY, I'm rather sick of people telling me how I should feel about it.
