Wikipedia articles I've read instead of doing my work

1. Literary theory

2. List of minor characters in StarCraft

3. Bugachev Hoax

4. Jim Raynor

More to come.

The Jaw Ordeal

Someday I'll write a long, reflective story about this.  For now, I'll just write melodramatic blurbs:

1. The broken jaw: five hours of memory just out of my life, despite being conscious the entire time (or can consciousness be consciousness without memory?).  I don't know what happened.  Apparently, the lone witness saw the accident from the opposite end of the van, too, and thus, never saw the accident itself.  There very well could have been foul play.  A brillantly malicious plan in return for some slight from years ago?  An angry dean's fists of fury?  Who knows.  And just think, if that could happen here, it could happen EVERYWHERE.  It could be happening now.  Hours gone from my mind.  The present.  The past.  The future.  Nothing.  NOTHING!    

2. The broken bike: My best friend, my always loyal companion, most importantlya bike uniquely mine, the only bright spot in this chasm of darkness that is my life.  O!  Faithful "Le Grande," ye French bike made by an American company, made whole again with the help of an insane hippie with a fanny pack and a tool belt, ye infernal machine with a nonexistent braking mechanism and continuously slipping chains.  Gone.  Forever, banished to some junkyard, or melted down into scrap metal for some whore of a recycling company to splotch into some grotesque metal contraption deep beneath the sewers of New Haven.  Gone. without even a hushed fare thee well from the lips of my unopenable mouth. 

3. The school weeks: a lack of motivation.  Just thinking about it make me not want to write anything.

4. The removal: The most intense feeling I have had in recent memory.  Laughing gas and a spray-on numbing agent that tasted like bitter cherries and impending pain.  I opted out of localized numbing to prove my manliness.  This proved futile midway, when I started crying uncontrollably, screaming at first and then only whimpering near the end.  The Yugoslavian stuck the metal into my mouth, poking and prodding, luring me into a false sense of security, and then yanking in such a way that I felt part of my soul had been ripped out.  I could feel the blood accumulating down into the front pockets of my mouth so that if I turned, it streamed on to my face.  With the procedure finished, I sat up and just stared into space for a while.  I felt cleansed with pain.

At the very very end however, I noted to myself that I should write down all of this stuff on this blog so I could remember to write something later.