Dear Web Journal,
Twice in the last week I have feared for my life. Not that kind of teenager fear of death of the “Ohmigod, I just got a D on my test and now my dad is TOTALLY going to kill me” variety. No, no, this is much closer to the “I Know What You Did Last Summer” kind, or the ring-ring, “Yes?” “I’m coming for you” “Stop calling me!” *click* ring-ring “Yes?” “I’m getting closer” “Stop calling me!!” *click* ring-ring “Yes?” “I’m calling from inside the house” kind of fear. (By the way, that story is why I was never a babysitter. Seriously, it happened to this girl I know, well, this girl who knows a girl who has a cousin in the next state over. Whatever, it’s scary).
Yesterday evening I was walking from God-knows-where (Hell’s Kitchen) to the station in
So there I was walking when I started to lose feeling in my fingers. And then my toes. And I realized that my face didn’t hurt anymore because it was SO FUCKING COLD OUT it was numb. Was that a *snap*? Was that….my finger breaking off from frost bite? Dear God! I must’ve been seconds away from freezing I place, or the Day After Tomorrow-type catastrophe. My life flashed before my eyes. There was nothing left to do but jump in the nearest store! And the nearest store was a fucking M&M World. I can honestly not believe that someone would travel to
Also, earlier this week, I almost choked on a particularly chewy piece of Short Spare Rib from the kind of Chinese restaurant that white people walk into and then feel proud of themselves for choosing an authentic Chinese restaurant. And I am speaking from some pretty serious self-congratulatory experience here. But fear not, after about a minute of fighting with it, I pulled it out by my fingers. Yum, right? So who wants to take me to dinner?
Alright, so maybe my near death experiences are closer to the teenage variety, but gimme a break. It’s freakin’ cold out.