blackie

so, strangely enough, my phone is now named blackie lawless. my navigator, which sometimes tries to get me jacked taking me off main highways and through very bad neighborhoods for driving tours, is named sybil. my car, of course, is named, simply, pony.

it started back when we were kids. my aunt had a grey nova she called sylvester. i don't know why she called it this. she always named her cars. my mom's white toyota celica was called nj's cloud, up until the time my sister dropped the muffler off it and drove it into the ground.

it's a strange thing, family tradition. i don't know how or why it starts. but my sister's old palm pilot was named minerva. now she's trying to think of a name for her new phone, but i took the best name, so she will likely take her time to decide.

not sure what she calls her car, i'm sure she'll tell me at some point. it's weird, i know. but we all do it. i don't know why.

so i'm waiting, patiently would be a stretch, somewhat anxiously would be more accurate, for my prof to return my last packet of work. i think i have some great new poems in there. i hope she agrees. her opinion matters at this point. my last paper was a suckfest, so i will take whatever critique she offers in stride.

i am going to miss her. we are officially done after this. so in so many ways, i don't want the letter to come, but i know it must.

the end is needed just as the beginning.

i will go about my day and let the end come as it will. as it must.