I hawked water for the football game today. Three dollars per bottle of water is the stadium price! That said, my hawking partner and I sold over two hundred bottles. If he had let me carry the bottles as well, we'd probably sell over three hundred.
I basically walked up and down the aisle and yelled "Water! Three dollars!" I got to see most of the game for free and I somehow made nine dollars in tip.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
perhaps a productive summer
"The ViTA program is the companion to our 'Study Abroad in America' workshop series. Through ViTA, IVCE actively recruits and develops a group of Vietnamese-American college and graduate students to teach TOEFL, SAT, GRE & GMAT workshops to students this summer in Vietnam."
I'm really considering it. It'll look good on my empty resume.
I'm really considering it. It'll look good on my empty resume.
Monday, September 22, 2008
someone is always watching
I took a nighttime walk with my roommate tonight. We tried to get lost in darkness. We succeeded and found ourselves hitting some sort of highway. Eventually we spotted a secluded playground surrounded by fences. I could swing for hours, I must have said.
Oh, the potential of the night. So much could have happened. I could have done so many things. The story is actually much longer, but I must sleep or study or something.
The gate is locked. There is no real way to get into the playground. Part of me wants to leave, but you know...
We find the lowest rising gate and jump over. Great! Now that we're inside, what do we do? We look around for the swings. It's dark and eerily quiet. Disappointed, we try for the slides but they're wet (from rain?). We approach the sandbox and it's covered by some sort of sandbox covering mechanism. We lift the sheet up and observe the sand.
She says something like, You know this is how horror movies begin, right? I agree, feeling the rough grains of sand between my fingers.
Forensics, I think, but instead I say, I like dead people. She freaks out and commands me over the other side of the park.
I agree, and with my mini key chain light, I creep into the shadows. I continue the dumb-girls-who-scare-each-other-and-end-up-dead horror scheme by hiding behind a tree. She'll get worried and look for me, I think. I wait. And I wait.
I see a shadow behind a tree nearby. It's obviously her. I wait. She doesn't come for me so I walk to her. We see each other and laugh it all off.
She thinks I look scary when I talk in my monotone, serious, cynical way. I shine the flashlight under my face and apparently it's even worse. She points to a shed and tells me it's creepy. We investigate.
We walk really slowly now. We hold onto each other's shirts a little. We come closer and closer to the little shed in the playground. She yells, What was that? I don't know what she's talking about. She asks me if I shone my light on the shed. I did not.
She tells me that there was a small blue light shone on the shed. She is scared and so I explain it to her: Someone is always watching. We, as people, are always being watched. My eyes must have widened or something.
A police car goes by. We'll explore some other night.
Oh, the potential of the night. So much could have happened. I could have done so many things. The story is actually much longer, but I must sleep or study or something.
