Little Black X

When I was younger I always had a hard time finding things, simple things like a certain shirt in my closet or the apple sauce jar in the refrigerator.  My mother would always ask "Are you looking with your eyes open?"  It seemed like a stupid question to me all those years but its starting to make sense.

The girl standing in front of me in the omelette line had on a red hoodie and gray sweat pants, standard attire for a college girl on a Saturday.  She wore no makeup and she had a pale sickly look to her.  Everything came together when she reached for a plate and I saw a black X on the top of her hand.

So she went to the bar with a few friends, most likely pregaming before they left the room with the four loco they stocked up on yesterday before it became illegal to sell in the state of New York.  Dressed to impress with their 6 inch heels on they attempted to walk to get a cab (I've found that few college college girls actually know how to walk in heels, the rest of them look like they're trying to walk a german shepherd whos just seen a squirrel.)  Anyways, red hoodie girl gets to the bar, has a few drinks, and mostly likely grinds up on some frat guy who has enough vodka in his blood and jager in his piss to drown a baby sea lion.  The nights going great but its about that time.  Her friend finds her in a crowd and says she wants to leave so the four or five of them find their coats, hug a few friends goodbye, and find a cab.  She finally gets back to campus and by this time the walking in heels is completely hopeless.  Shes drunk, the german shepherds tipsy, even the squirrels shitfaced.  Somehow with the combined effort of her and her sidekicks, she manages to return to her room.  She stumbles into her bed and pulls the covers up.  Shes drunk, but she still has the capacity to be able to think to herself "That was a great night."  She closes her eyes and the night turns out to be not so great.  Pretty soon the walls, the ceiling, everything in the room begins to whirl around her, her own personal merry-go-round.  She slides one leg out of bed and puts her foot on the solid floor hoping that it will make the spinning stop, good idea but no success.  She then roles out of bed and makes a dash for the bathroom, knocking things over as she stumbles along.  The rest of her night is spent hailing to the porcelain throne until she finally passes out on the bathroom floor.

In the omelette line I would say that the black X on her hand means about as much to me as it does to her.  Just a reminder, "Hey yeah I was at the bar last night."  or


She could just like drawing black Xs on her hand.

Cheers,
Bhoov

Panama?

In one hand I held the thick end of a blue necktie and in the other hand I held its skinny counterpart, "How the hell does this work again?"  I hadn't worn a tie since high school, which doesn't seem like too long ago but it has almost been two years.  My memory was eventually sparked and after five or so tries the tie had cooperated.  I then bent down and went to tie my black dress shoes.  As I pulled the laces tight I heard a popping sound as one of the laces snapped in two, "Just great" I thought, tossing the scrap of black lace into the trash and readjusting the remaining string.  After nursing my dress shoe back to health I strolled over to the mirror to make sure my tie looked okay,  then exited through the suite door and finally ventured over to the Hollis dorm building.  

Walking into the dorm feeling completely overdressed and out of place I gave the girl at the front desk the kind of look like "You know why I'm here, where am I supposed to be?"  She smiled and said "turn left, its the first door on your right."  I gave her a thankful nod and followed the directions.  I found the first door on the right and there was a 8x6 piece of white paper posted beside it reading: "INTERVIEW, please wait here until called upon."  Below the note was a chair that I decided not to sit in, I felt better standing.  Students kept coming out of the elevator and passing me giving strange looks.  I felt like an overdressed choir boy.  The door finally opened and a woman with a friendly face poked her head out, "Bryan, come on in."

A couple weeks ago I received an email informing students about different mission trips that St. John's organized.  There were three options available: France, Philadelphia, Panama.  France seemed a little too religion-ee for me, Philadelphia is well, Philadelphia, but Panama caught my eye.  I decided that I would fill out an application, write an essay describing myself and see where it got me.  About a week after i sent in my application I received an email that I had made it to the next stage of progressions and that there would be an information session the following week.  I went to the information session and the trip sounded like a great opportunity.  The only thing I have to do now is hope that I didn't tank too bad on my interview today so I get on the "team" that they are taking.

IF everything goes according to plan and I am chosen to go on the trip the plan is as follows.  We fly into somewhere in florida (Tampa I think?), then we catch a connecting flight that goes into Panama City.  Once in Panama City we will help out at an orphanage, sleep somewhere in Panama city, and when we get up the next day we get on a bus and drive 8 hours across Panama to some village that sounds far removed from any kind of civilization.  Upon arrival the people of the village will have a welcoming ceremony for us and we will be assigned to our host families.  Me and another St. John's student will be living together with a family (who speaks little or no english).  We then go through a daily day of work with them such as working on a dairy farm or in a pepper field.  We will basically be worked like dogs for 10 days.

It sounds like the families will have no running water and some may not own a car.  In this case they said that we may have to walk a mile or 2 (or 3 or 4) to get to our work cites.  Also, they said that chickens and other animals will just randomly come into the house.  I think it sounds great, so fingers crossed that I make it past this whole interview thing. 

Cheers,

Bhoov