What am I darlin'?I've got years to wait...
TtotheLizzle
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Name: teri
Country: United States
State: Indiana
Metro: Gary
Birthday: 4/11/1987
Gender: Female


Interests: all sports...i'm pretty much amazing at basketball..ask my friends! no really, i love softball, football, golfing...not watching, tennis, volleyball, and running. I'm 'in the process' of training for a triathalon this summer and am really pumped! I have an obsession for music...LOVE IT! only real music though...sorry if i don't fit in :D. I'm also in love with Anderson Cooper. He is amazing in every way and I hope to work with him someday!
Expertise: i have a movie in the works...really, it's a joke but soo much fun, lol!
Occupation: Student
Industry: Media


Message: message me
Website: visit my website
AIM: cheriberi77


Member Since: 3/14/2005

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Monday, February 11, 2008

PRESSED 4 February 2008

            Your feet hit the ground.  Blue and green Nikes, not shock absorbing or water-proof:  just shoes, running shoes.  They were on sale at Kohl’s, so you bought them.  You didn’t consider the impact of the corporation’s labor practices at each of its outsourced factories or how many pairs of generics you could purchase for that same forty-seven dollars.  At this point, it doesn’t matter.
            The addresses fade into the morning haze behind each kick like the dreams you never remember after your alarm beats each morning.  You forget about the heavy-eyed nights spent secluded with your schoolwork, the seventy-three percent on your French Revolution exam, the 300 dollars you still owe the landlord, and the oil change more than 2,000 miles overdue.  Lines Hrrpressed pounds through the headphones with your heart racing.  “If I get one life to live, I’ma give it all I got.  If I get the chance, I’ma be who I am ‘steada who I’m not.”  You don’t know who sings it.  You don’t care.  Your brain doesn’t think about anything outside of inhaling through chilled nostrils, and then out through cracked lips.

            Heel-toe, heel-toe.  Your legs wind, feet pressing the concrete, waiting for a little give.  Your arms are in, close to your chest, barely pumping, short like a kangaroo’s.  A car maneuvers its way around the corner, skimming a puddle from the night’s shower.  You remember the drops bursting against your window as you read yourself to sleep.  The water washes up in a wave-like swoop against the driver’s window.  It folds down and over again, before smashing the curb.

            You picture summer on the dunes; watching the tide siege the shore as fireworks boomed in the distant sky.  You sprinted down the sand, into the air, landing on your feet, then splatted onto your back.  You saw the stars in the night sky there.

           

The pedometer watch wrapping your bony wrist quivers against your skin.  Your brain turns back on. Time to go home - shower.  There’s work to be done. You’ll look for specs above again tonight.

                                                                    

 


POLYGON 15 JANUARY 2008

He drove the Oldsmobile to work in the mill.
It was a hand-me-down white box with a brown top, and it smelled of grease from the slitter he operated in his blue collared shirt.
She picked the children up in the Bonneville her parents gave them. It had been their first car long ago, but the young couples’ only other option.

The children, both mistakes, were six and almost four; the Bonneville: blue and rusted with decades on the youngsters.

Children were allowed to sit in the front seat without meeting a weight or age requirement then.
Together, the squirmish siblings did.

The Mini-Mart, a convenience store a few blocks over, did well. The young mother went there for necessities like Misty Menthol Light 100s and Marlboros for him, which he would later curse.

McGruff taught their children about what cigarettes could do during Safety Circle proceeding lunch that afternoon.

The boy took the window seat. His older sister sat bitch. They listened as she criticized the chain-smokers with names like Cookie and Sheila whose grey fumes permeated lunchroom breaks; however, she let the same stress get the best of her after the school bell released her sugar-strung slip-ups.

The speed limit was thirty on Swanson Road, but she would never hear the end of it if they missed their dose of Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.

She accelerated as they bickered over fruit snacks. The boy gave in and handed over the red ones to his superior. He knew Jason, the Red Ranger with the brown ponytail, was her favorite after all. His size 4 feet sported black, light-up, high-tops with all six Rangers displayed on the outside. His sister caught a glimpse of them and was reminded of the K-Mart temper-tantrum as she rummaged through the rest of his leftover lunch.

He pushed back. She shouted, and then paused.

They were coming up to a sign on the corner. Eight sides? Octagon! Knowledge she gained courtesy of her father, not McGruff.

Stop.

Go.

The young girl suddenly felt a spring breeze stronger than the one previously pressing the window.

Her brother cried, “Mom, Stop!” as he held on to the handle inside the massive door somehow flung open.

His arms were outstretched more than earlier on the monkey bars, and his heels burned red.

He felt the grasp of his sibling as the machine jolted just before the Mini-Mart lot.

She cradled him with his soles smoldering and flattened toes.

He caught his breath, looked up at his savior, and sighed, “They won’t light up anymore, will they?”

His mother pounded her fist on the wheel and said, “Shit, I forgot my ID!”



Currently Reading
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
By Dave Eggers
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Grown up?

After an internship last semester, I thought I had my life back.  BUT it turns out, college is hard.  I'm a junior now, and have taken some time to seriously consider, or reconsider, what I'm going to do with my life.

I had scheduling conflicts when I returned this semester because of financial aid problems, so I was only able to register for one TCOM class and was forced to pick up random courses.  In this process, I signed up for Fiction 1 with Sean Lovelace, and it has changed my mindset completely.  I registered for this course because Lovelace was the teacher and he helped out with our seminar in carving the narrative for the documentary.  He was very insightful, and I had a feeling he would be a great prof.  He is, and coincidentally, I found out I might be able to write more than news stories.

I have been talking to a few people about changing my major because I am so far behind having taken only the basic pre-TCOM courses, but holding quite a few creative writing and French credits under my belt.  Basically, I don't know where I'm heading, but have been told I need more feedback.  So...I'm going to use this as a showcase...perhaps? Yes, I know hardly anyone I am subscribed to still uses Xanga, or any other blogspot for that matter.  But those of you who do see this, here ya go.  My first entry will be Polygon.  It ended up as something unexpected, but true to start....make sense?  Thank you.






Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Currently Listening
Andrew Bird & the Mysterious Production of Eggs
By Andrew Bird
FAKE PALINDROMES
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Ok, this update's for Mr. Kenneth "Bud" Sothman since I know he's the only one who reads these anyway!

It is now 5 pm on tuesday of finals week and I haven't studied at all for anything!  I really need some motivation, seriously... I find myself working out and cleaning our room like crazy just to get out of reading for history.  Everyone already knows about Darryl Strawberry anyway! 
p.s. if I haven't already mentioned it, my History 202 prof is awful!  She is a wonderful person, but an absolutely terrible teacher.  she'll blab on about Babe Ruth and JFK's sexcapades for hours on end instead of actually finishing our lecture material.  We played with GI Joe's for an entire 45 minutes one day...now that's a little ridiculous if you ask me.  It's wonderful to pay all of this money just to be treated like I'm in kindergarten again.

On the other hand, all of my TCOM teachers are amazing, and I must thank them for an awesome semester!  Not only did I begin the script for an award-winning film (haha), but I also learned a lot about myself.  For anyone involved with Ball State's TCOM department, you know what I'm talking about.  Most importantly, I would like to thank Mr. James Needham for a great semester.  TCOM 204 would not have been the same without you.  As I told him last week, I was extremely intimidated going into his class after hearing a lot about it.  However, I am very pleased with the work involved and am proud to have made it through without having to take the final!  He is one of the best teachers I have ever had, and I can only hope to have him at least once more while I'm at BSU.  I forgot to mention, he is the reason Geoff Kolar and I were able to see the cast of  "Armed and Famous"!

I almost forgot to complain about having to stay in Muncie for the first week of Christmas break ... I was really looking foward to spending a full three weeks with the love of my life, BENJAMMIN, but now it will be cut short thanks to my job.  I guess it's not that bad.  It just seems a little pointless to stay here and work while all of the money made will go toward staying somewhere else.  So anyone who wants to do some serious Christmas Breaking needs to call me b/c I will be home after the 22nd!

LAST THOUGHTS:

Barrack is cool.  Hillary is a tool!
I <3 DA BEARS!!!
Notre Dame...yeah!
I cannot wait for spring training and my CUBBIES!
Kristen is leaving for Spain in less than a month!  Wish her luck!
I really don't like our house, but I am looking foward to moving in, lol
Anyone who wants to get rid of a computer desk, lemme know asap!
I'm now realizing this semester could have been an easy 4.0 if i really tried, but whatever...a new one begins in 4 weeks!

GOOD LUCK WITH FINALS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!


Monday, November 13, 2006

Currently Listening
Make Yourself
By Incubus
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I LOVE MY JOB!!!!!

 

i hate tests

blah



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