I went to (West) Michigan this weekend and when I got off the plane I thought, as I always do, "Where do all these white people come from?" I am in law school, which has to be the most elitist white-dominated field in the country (except some denominations of the church) and I never see a crowd that uniformly white. Go law school. Sort of.
My sister and I went for a bike ride on Sunday and I can still feel it in many previously-unknown muscles of my legs. Maybe you are supposed to start smaller, or I mean shorter, in terms of rides, when you ride a bike. I still can't sit comfortably.
I came back with lots of cinnamon-flavored birthday cake, which I eat after my multi-grain flakes in the morning. It is in a cherry sherbet container and all mushed together, but it is still pretty amazingly good.
I am on the verge of getting a doctor's note to present to the law school to procure myself a large-size locker. I currently have one in the farthest reaches of nothingness and it is too small to fit all my books and computer, so I have to lug things around on my back or in my hands and none of it is good for the wristees. All it takes is one little doctor's note and I am officially disabled and get a big locker! Normally I would revolt against such nonsense as not being able to carry everything I own at once, but I have given up with these wrists. They have failed me. We are barely on speaking terms.
I read a blog that links to mine and I discovered yesterday that I have been moved from "Africa" to "Back Home." Hmph. I am sulking in the corner. Just because I'm stuck here in New York for seven and a half more months, I am banished from the Africa list. Notwithstanding the fact that I spend almost as much time working for this summer's organization (in Liberia; Liberian) as I do studying. I do appear not to be in Africa at the moment, though. And can I just say that this Friday I am going to go talk to some students at another school about Liberia because they are going there in a few weeks? How to contain the jealousy...
My sister and I went for a bike ride on Sunday and I can still feel it in many previously-unknown muscles of my legs. Maybe you are supposed to start smaller, or I mean shorter, in terms of rides, when you ride a bike. I still can't sit comfortably.
I came back with lots of cinnamon-flavored birthday cake, which I eat after my multi-grain flakes in the morning. It is in a cherry sherbet container and all mushed together, but it is still pretty amazingly good.
I am on the verge of getting a doctor's note to present to the law school to procure myself a large-size locker. I currently have one in the farthest reaches of nothingness and it is too small to fit all my books and computer, so I have to lug things around on my back or in my hands and none of it is good for the wristees. All it takes is one little doctor's note and I am officially disabled and get a big locker! Normally I would revolt against such nonsense as not being able to carry everything I own at once, but I have given up with these wrists. They have failed me. We are barely on speaking terms.
I read a blog that links to mine and I discovered yesterday that I have been moved from "Africa" to "Back Home." Hmph. I am sulking in the corner. Just because I'm stuck here in New York for seven and a half more months, I am banished from the Africa list. Notwithstanding the fact that I spend almost as much time working for this summer's organization (in Liberia; Liberian) as I do studying. I do appear not to be in Africa at the moment, though. And can I just say that this Friday I am going to go talk to some students at another school about Liberia because they are going there in a few weeks? How to contain the jealousy...
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