June 99 ate eel.
July 97 was in a wreck in the passenger seat in Andy's red Z28. Hit one of those massive city utility trucks, almost a Brink's armored truck, from behind. Even told Andy to slow down on the off ramp. Well, he didn't, not enough, but figured out you really CAN brace yourself for an accident and prevent some damage. Didn't get very hurt.
you leave the company: you resign (z)
you stay with the team: you resign (s)
April 99 met Michele Mitchell, author of "A New Kind of Party Animal". Saw, heard, but didn't talk to directly: Emmitt Smith, the former lead singer of Jackopierce, William F. Buckley, and the future Pope.
Sometime in Fall 94 woke up to the disturbing sound of a house roach eating my eardrum.
Around 4th, 5th, 6th started to theorize that I am the only kid with the ability to think. Not in an arrogant, self-serving way, but in a secretive, revelatory, matter-of-fact way. I had plenty of evidence to go on.
Winter 99 accepted a job helping a family move. Friend Ivan (Bulgaria) was there. Moved thousands of pounds. Multiple sleeper-couches. A lovely combined oven/stove/microwave/7 foot tall monster three times. Literally tons. Literally. Drove home (from West Texas). The closest I have come to death. Almost tipped over supersize U Haul on hitting curbs, slipping on road in torrential, blinding rainstorm. Ivan (Bulgaria) actually started praying. I don't pray. Didn't die, don't know how, seemed like a sure thing or at least a nasty collision, flips, fire, hospital. Made oh $200.
Committed to a course of action that involves (relatively speaking) hideously chancy and complex subactions.
Please, no rigorous syntactical analyses.
Things are really snowball-effectish sometimes.
Well, get set for some emotional bleeding next update I think.