Historically, I haven't minded Christmas shopping all that much. Prolonged shopping in general tends to have somewhat of a negative effect on me, but not as much this time of year. Enveloped in the joy of the Christmas spirit, it really becomes tolerable, and sometimes even fun. I was getting pretty sick of it after a while today, though, but certainly not to the point of blinding, vulgar rage. But that's what I encountered today at the Grand Teton Mall. Just outside of Old Navy, I rolled into a pretty choice drive-through parking spot right next to a really big truck, which obscured my view of all things northward. Just as I stopped in the space, an old car driven by one of the members of ZZ Top peeked its way around the truck. This man, as it seems, certainly tired from a long day of store-hopping, also really wanted that spot. It was a good spot. He came to a stop directly in front of me and looked me square in the eye. At this point, I could already see the pure hellish rage in his snarl, and a maniacal quiver in his long beard. Slowly and methodically, he raised his huge middle finger straight up to the center of the window. He held his hand there for what must have been five whole seconds, and even bounced it up and down in my direction a couple of times, in a completely successful effort to remove all doubt as to who the recipient was of that triumphant one-finger salute. Shocked, I raised my open palms with a confused smile, and the angry, burnt-out rocker rolled away. In one simple motion, the bottom was reached, and summarily placed behind us. The holiday angst had been vented on both of our behalf. I'll never know who that man was or where he was from, but I hope he felt better about his Christmas shopping after that. I know I did.
At last. My semester is nearly done. I have one final tomorrow in French Revolution, and then I can spend the rest of the week doing pretty much whatever I want. That hasn't happened in quite some time, to which my sparsity of blogging can attest. I'll probably spend most of the week reading things for my online class, though, which I'd like to finish over Christmas break. I don't think it should be that bad. On the subject of academia, I've accepted a fairly large decision over the past couple of weeks. I've decided to drop my history major. I'm so excited. First and foremost, I'll be able to graduate with honors. Also, I'll be able to focus more on my English and my writing, which is actually what I'm going to be doing in grad school anyway. The only reason I even was a double major was for that to look better on grad school applications, but I had an epiphany last week that showed me that my resume will in all actuality be more impressive if I can just focus on English and graduate with honors. I should be able to get a solid internship after graduation no matter what. I've also elected to write an honors thesis over the next couple of semesters regarding the origins and idiosyncrasies of the dystopian social commentary in the literature of the Soviet Union and the west. We'll see how that goes. On a more somber note, I was informed yesterday that my cousin Kevin has been missing for over a week now near Crystal Mountain, outside of Seattle. He and two friends went on a snowboarding trip and never returned. The search party was called off yesterday. Best wishes and prayers to him and his family.
Here's a writing portfolio of quasi-journalism. Contact me for quasi-fiction.
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