I'm sick and I feel like crap and I don't want to be here

Title self explanatory.

I've been sick since Monday (and it's Thursday now); my throat is having a temper tantrum, and my neck feels hot like it's burning.  I couldn't sleep last night because when I put my covers on, it felt so hot I couldn't bear it, and when I took off my covers it became so cold my skin turned to ice.

I've been coming to school and crashing as soon as I get home.  I'm tired of coughing, tired of blowing snot out of my nose, and I miss being healthy and awake.  Don't ever take being healthy for granted, kids.

Also, AP Language is the worst class to take when you're sick.  Just sayin'.

the fabulous Monroe

If I could spontaneously poof someone back from the nether realm, I think it would have to be Marilyn Monroe, the original blond starlet with the beauty mark that won over the hearts of thousands.  To this day, the classic pin-up girl has been studied, documented, and featured as we continue to discover new things surrounding her and her death.  A couple weeks ago, her secret diary was released to Vanity Fair, revealing previously unknown and startling facts about her life before death.  Her affairs, her insecurities, and her thoughts of suicide are all revealed here.  Her iconic face, still shrouded by a cloud of mystery, is one of the reasons, I think, she's still so incredibly sexy.

The always glamorous Monroe would either love or hate this century.  Gone are the sophisticated, classic fashions of old, and in are the sparkly, edgy luxuries of today.  She might not like being original anymore.  Following her wake are few dozen celebutante who strive to be the wackiest, loudest, and "unique" individuals out there.  Monroe, not a stranger to the red carpet, might want to do a double take when checking out Lady Gaga at the VMAs, or Katy Perry's 50s and candy/pastry inspired wardrobe.  Speaking of foods, I've got to figure out what to give Monroe for dinner.

The starlet, accustomed with all the ritzy dinners she must've had throughout her lifetime, ought to take a moment to get familiar with mine.  Don't get me wrong, if I had the cash, I would take her out to Tepanyaki, or Giovanni's.  But since I'm broke and the dead generally have no cash, I'd probably end up picking up take-out from Truongs or Kinpachi's; something completely un-American, but cheap and delicious.  We would have fried rice and spring rolls.  Just because she's used to steak and fine wine doesn't mean she's getting any.

The real reason I would want to take Monroe of all people back from the grave is to really ask her about her life.  Now that most of her paparazzi have been dead for a while, and no one's looking for her or listening for an opinion from her, I would ask her personal questions about her life and how she lived.  About her dreams, ambitions, fears, and relationships.  The mystery is still there, and to solve the puzzle of Monroe's life just grabs my curiosity beyond my control.  Either way, I hope she doesn't mind eating with her hands.

Autobiography: Page 110/400

The final parties of the school year had ended, and at last it was summer.  My life rolled through the prairies and soared above oceans every year at this time.  No matter what, a window seat was mine as I gazed through the glass unto a world that belonged to itself.

I had just been admitted into teenage-dome.  Love was new and exciting and flirting with it was a new rush.  I was just beginning to fall in love with travel.  The almost stale smell of the airport, the musky smell of the bus, and the sound of rolling luggage only fueled my travel lust.  The journey getting there was a part of the reason I wanted to get there.  

As I became older and my lust only continued to ripen, I learned I was not alone.  It was a Hudkins gene to yearn for travel.  My father wandered across the world for the FBI partly just because he liked to travel.  My Aunt Lazelle had been on countless world cruises and at a recent family reunion told of her recent escapade to Cairo, Egypt, and my Uncle Keith was charting maps to sail his schooner through the Bahamas.  My heart swooned at the legacies I was bound to wistfully chase.