Strong Women

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Of course I won. Only 6 people played, and one was new to the game. Amazingly, they weren't the first one out. I played fairly well, and I had my opponents confused about what I was doing. They would say things like, "Well, I haven't seen you bluff." Yet, right after saying that, they continued, "But I'm gonna call." Yea, I don't bluff very often. So it's real fun when the other person gets frustrated after seeing my cards.

I wouldn't call myself a soccer fan. I know the rules, and I'm actually good at the sport, but I rarely watch it. Since I'm awake until nearly 7AM each morning, the TV runs in the background. Around 4AM, things tend to suck. However, on ESPN, they are showing the FIFA Women's World Cup. Normally I would keep surfing through. But the quality of play is actually good. And the US is playing Sweden.

(Some female soccer players are actually hot. Like Heather Mitts. But I do think that if one were to kick me, I would explode.)

I don't watch the WNBA. Basketball doesn't start until Oct. 31st for me. But I do know some of the players. I think Sue Bird is cute. Diana Taurasi is the female equivalent of Steve Nash. In case no one has reported it, the WNBA Finals are in progress, and I'm rooting for Taurasi. Her team has usually been at the bottom. And I'm tired of the Detroit Shock winning every time.

I logged onto MySpace yesterday. It was the 1st time in nearly a week. This time, I'll make it a week.

I didn't mention this on Tuesday. Well, I didn't mention a few things. That day was September 11th, or 9-11. That day holds significance for me, but not for the same reason you might think. It just so happens to be my mom's birthday.

When we came back from my parent's house, it was below 80 degrees outside. We drove back with the windows down, and it was amazing. It felt like an eternity since the last time a cool wind ran through my hair. For just a short moment, every memory with a cool wind flashed through my mind. Each fraction of that second featured a different fall or winter from as far back as I could remember.

When I was 3 or so, I was sitting in the car with my dad. It was an old Lincoln Continental, but it was an ugly green. It was cold enough outside to where the ground was covered in white. I pushed in the cigarette lighter because it always popped back out. Like a jack-in-the-box. When it popped, I took it out and looked at it. It was glowing orange, and the orange was swirled. I looked at my thumb and the swirls on it. I must have thought it was a match because my thumb touched that bright metal.

We went inside a building and put my thumb under some water. I remember screaming, but not crying.

I haven't messed with cigarette lighters since.