Iditarod, 2008

11. I can count the number of people I’ve kissed on one hand. Then again, I know sign language, so I can count to 999 on one hand. So it may be more than 5, but it’s still a manageable number.

Dear World,

This past week, although I pretended to be doing awesome things in Seattle, I was really in Anchorage with my once and future lesbian friend, Kris. Enclosed is a picture of us at the Iditarod.

I hadn’t talked to my friend in a few months, but when she called me last Saturday, I decided to go visit her: work or no work. I quit my job, moved out of my apartment, and got on an airplane to visit my 33rd state.

This might seem rash to most of you, but it’s not that rash for me. I’ve done things like this before, and I’d been debating leaving Seattle since I got here. The Duke acceptance and imminent campus visits to UC, Davis and Duke made me all the more certain that I needed to leave. Kris’ phone call was the last straw.

So I spent most of the week with her at the elementary school where she teaches first grade Spanish. We argued about religion and talked about high school. A 36-year-old counselor and a 13-year-old tutor hit on me.¹ Also, we saw dogs run: The Iditarod started this weekend.

If you’re like me, you want to see a close up image of those little booties the doggies have on. Thankfully, I’m like you, so I uploaded a tighter shot. I’m expecting these to be all the rage next season.

Now, however, I’m back in Seattle. I paid $130 to get my car out of parking and I’m ready to leave for New Mexico. Wish me luck.
Sincerely,

Pixel Q. Styx
Professional Student.

1. Note to self: start aiming for 23-year olds, not people that are 23 years apart.[↩]

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