He’s coming. Twenty days, and I will be stealing glances at my clock, waiting until it’s time to leave and fight my way to the airport, to pass thru security and wait at a gate, watching a plane taxi in. And, oddly, I’m not nervous. I thought I would be, I thought I would panic. Oh, I did the typical – I blinked then bounced and jumped and shrieked in surprise and excitement. But, nerves? No, none. I had them, they were there – god they’ve been with me it seems almost constantly, especially when thinking about him visiting. But once the ticket was booked, they left. Vanished. And you know, I don’t think I was nervous about him coming; I was nervous that he would not come.
Fashion is a type of performance art, calculated and targeted, reflecting the overarching zeitgeist and your place in the world amidst all this chaos.
— Holly Bik
Seek And Find. Maybe.
3am upriver abortion biodefense bioethics biosafety biosecurity book reviews broadway cats chronic pain disability drive across america durc ebola ethics fail feminism food geek geek geek gof health how we eat hurricane irene Mom pain philadelpa Philosophy Politics Pop Culture pro-choice public health reproduction science science communication sciox sex simpler living space the final frontier stem cells stupid people continue to annoy me theatre geek The Daily Show trust weather with you Zeus