We had 1 hour to complete our final architecture project that entailed a class competition to see who could create the tallest structure with a budget of 5 dollars. Our only requirements: must be aesthetically pleasing and structurally sound.

And so I sat there, outside, in 40 degree weather bundled in winter jackets, winter hats, and winter gloves, shaking and thinking that this was the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life. I cursed design inept architectural engineers, repeating again and again that I should be an architect. I muttered under my breath making angry clouds in the cold, crisp air. And that's when I saw him.

Finally.

Against the dark, I could see his thin silhouette made of broad shoulders and a small waist. But some monstrosity was growing from his back. My eyes squinted and I cursed again for being an ARCE.

He came up to me with a clumsy smile holding 20 some odd skittle colored balloons. My anger quickly dissappated as I saw him. He looked like he had just stolen Santa's Bag of presents.

From behind him came another boy. Taller this time and laughing, carrying another 10 white balloons. Then 3 other boys carrying backpacks full of rocks and rolls of string amounting to 1000 ft in total.

It was time to get to work.

We unraveled each roll of ribbon, string, and twine, making organized rows of 150 ft long lanes. Around the same time our boy scouts were making balloon knots, the master planner came riding out on his low ride bike with 10 more balloons trailing his speedy arrival. We quickly tiered the three layers of balloons to produce a 20 ft. structure with a spire reaching to another 50 ft in the air attached to the long strips of ribbon and string that we tied to our rock filled backpacks paying no attention to the other groups that were in the process of raising their concrete, cardboard made structures.

Architecture students began to pop their heads out of their studios, a couple bystanders were accumulating and people began looking at us, curiously wondering what we were doing. And in one single motion all five of us took a backpack and walked backwards as our group leader released the balloons. At that same moment, our professor came walking up laughing

if i ever saw...

40 balloons rose into the cobalt blue skies warping Dexter Lawn into an entirely new space that redefined the look and feel of not only the exterior space, but our faces as well. We all watched, glowing in the cold air and moonlight, watching as this simple structure fostered childish smiles and honest laughter out of our stressful lives. The wind was soft and the skies were clear with a bright moon shining an incandescent glow onto our balloons that floated with the stars. And as I stared at our structure, forgetting completely about the competition and finals and everything, I smiled.

fall days

My calendar is a pathological liar. He says its November 17th.

I don't think so. If it were November 17th then it would mean that we are in the middle of fall. Which then means that the trees would be red and the chimneys would spout holiday smoke, while rainboots would become a fashion statement and scarves would be commonplace. BUT this is no so.

And i will tell you why.

1. people are still wearing summer dresses and shorts
2. people are still deciding what swimsuit to wear to the beach
3. weekend barbecues occur regularly
4. people are still wearing their rainbow flipflops
and finally
5. it is still 92 degrees outside.

THUS, my calendar must be lying because there is no such thing as 90 degree weather in the middle of november.

And so i will wait with my scarves and hot chocolate outside in that blazing sun until it becomes fall so i can prove my calendar wrong.

home sweet home.

I finally unpacked the last box of my belongings today. I am officially moved in!

summer days

I found my grandma walking around in fishnet socks today. When I asked her why in the world she would wear that she said " because it's sexy."

ashamed.

i feel like shit.

Priceless

Thank You Letters $ 8

Sorry Brownies $10

Alcohol $300

Hospitalization $ 500

Ambulance $1500

Housing License Repeal $5520

The memory of swimming in pools of my own vomit, reminiscing whether or not I would die there in that hospital waiting for my roommate to pick me up and take me home

The throbbing aftermath confronted with a 24- hour hang over, counseling, essays, meetings, and millions of alcohol pamphlets all concealed with a curtain of smiles and the belief that I am okay

The humiliating confession of my vulnerability and weakness to the broken faces of my parents as they see the thousands of dollars in damages for my poor decisions that has caused fights between me and my conscious, reputation, friends, family, and loved ones that has only amounted to a lost in trust within myself and within my friends

Priceless.

nose bleed.

I was standing there; head down, naked from head to toe with hot water beating down against my back, watching the never ending drops of blood fall from the tip of my nose. I stood in that pale beige stall for what seemed like hours, lost in this strange sense of time where nights were days and days were nights and life seemed to become one long continuous cycle of mechanical tasks. There was no distinction from sunset to sunrise or from sunrise to sunset. And with each drop passed another day that I could have had. Another day where I could have made a memory, but instead I am left with this infinite day.

I find myself watching people. Watching people come home and people go home and people leaving and people running, but all the same people going somewhere and I am no where but here. My days filled with nothing but air. My heart forgotten. My breath slow. But there is an inconsistency to my predictable life that is the basic foundation to my existence.

It is the waterfall of crimson red from the tunnels in which I breathe. It revives my being, reminding me that there is life in the warm blood that rushes with a fervid force throughout my veins. It is an opacity that will not last. It is the reason why I know that this day will end whether it be tomorrow or the next day or the next year. It will end because there is something finite to this infinite bloody cycle and it is that that makes my heart remembered and my breath strong.