This one guy says its DREAD

I had lunch with my friend Ryan today. It was great! It has always been a treat to hang out with him, but especially now that we are both so busy. We seem to think the same way on so many of the big questions in life (and small ones, too- like canning!). It validates me in some way to know that I have things in common with this person who I respect and admire so much. He's also fun, too, which a person should always be if they can.

A few things have happened this week of note. I'll start with my near death experience. I have this tightness in my chest and flippies in my stomach that last all day on Tuesday. There's just no time to breathe. In my last class, I said something to my table, my assigned group for the semester that will become "my family" as the teacher puts it. I ask them what the hell this is about and do they have it and will it last the whole semester do they think. People look at me like I'm stupid. This one guy in my group says it's dread. It's the same feeling I get right before a presentation, but it doesn't go away. When the class starts, the professor randomly calls on us to get up and present our conceptual maps of the chapter we are studying. So, of course, of the three people she calls on, I am one of them. It's almost like my body intuitively knew I was going to have to give a surprise presentation. I stumble through and am perhaps stronger because of it, but that doesn't mean I'm not pissed anyway. And then, three minutes after I sit down, the power goes out in our building and we are kicked out of class and into the rough winds and downpour outside. With no umbrella and no coat (I'm an idiot), I make my way towards the parking deck where my car is parked. With my glasses fogged over and little sight without them, I stand in the middle of the quadrangle wondering which direction I'm supposed to go. In the dark, nothing looks familiar and the buildings are black and slick with rain- sinister. I follow my gut which is almost always wrong, but this time it pulls through! I find myself in front of the parking garage. The power is out and my car is on the third floor. I am convinced that this is the end- that I've reached the point of no return and death (an axe murderer) awaits me on the stairs or under my car in the pitch black. In the aftermath of the storm, everything is quiet and hushed except for the heartbeat in my throat. I drove Scott's car yesterday and our relationship has not been stable. In fact, I loathe the car. I haven't had the best experience with Dodge Intrepids in the first place. Our history goes back to my senior year, when I was involved in a car chase with Katie Paciorek on the way to Lettuce Souprise You trying to outrun Jessica Scarlatto. Scott's Intrepid which I have aptly named Olive Peice of Shit with a Grey Door, has left me stranded a couple times. One of those times I was wearing high heels and had to walk a mile to class in 100 degree heat in order to make it to class (late!). I only bring up the car because there is a loose fuse somewhere and the interior lights rarely work. They didn't work last night either which meant I had to grope around in the pitch black without my glasses and point my keys at every black blob I saw listening for the faint sound of doors unlocking. I should have just pushed the panic button on my keys, but didn't want to alert the axe murderer of my presence if he was on my level. I finally found my way to the car and a new lease on life, but not without serious trauma.

Apparently, Heath Ledger spoke of dying in his last few months of life- numerous times- in articles and with friends. He was okay with it and well that's a good thing, because he did die. Well, I talk about dying all the time and I am seriously NOT okay with it. Not yet and not any time soon. Will I be ready when it is time? God, I hope so.

Gotta go home. More later.