Tell us a story. No rules or restrictions, just tell us a story about anything.Maybe about your earliest memory, or your favorite concert. Maybe why you loved/hated high school, or where you want to live when you grow up. Anything. Party on. today i told my french teacher this story, except, you know, in french.

(and sunny, if you continue it will ruin the story i wrote in the letter i sent you yesterday)

when i was about three, my mom put a potted plant in the hallway. and for some reason, i decided to eat the potting soil in it. no, i did not mistake it for some ingenuous newfangled food product, no, i did not have a particular affinity for the dirt. but i ate it, yes.

when my mom observed this one day, she was very, very upset, and yelled at me very, very much. and then, whenever she wasn't around, (i would check to make sure) i'd sneak the dirt. oh yeah. my father got a picture of me doing it.

thus the rebellion began.

:: hah. i think i wrote exactly that in sunny's letter ::

and then when i was six and eating watermellon for the first time, i became hysterical at the thought that the seeds would take root in the dirt and kill me.

giggle.