Will Write 4 Shoes.

developments.

so this blog thing is not too bad. although, as of now, the day after i made it, my only readers are my close friends. It’s all good though, I’ll give it some more publicity. The reason why I made it now, instead of when i go to new york for my marketing internship, is because i thought of the name “will write 4 shoes” and had to claim it before someone else in the world did. Simple.

Anyway, my arts and pop culture class with Anthony Decurtis has been one of the highlights of this semester. It provides opportunity for great experiences in PR and writing for the media. It’s a perfect pre-requisite for my ShoreFire Media internship this summer.

I just finished sorting out the details for my first interview of the class (it’s on wednesday so i’ll update about it later on in the week). Im so occupied with designing my questions that I’m forgetting about my other homework. (the less glamorous subjects like spanish and critical writing).

off to do that now. byeee.

midday train going anywhere.

My little brother enjoys long train rides. Riding the El from upper darby to frankford, sipping soda and cracking sunflower seeds, observing the scenery and being humored by humans. Something more meaningful than a reality show, in that it’s actually real life.

Today, on the way back, a man and a woman were sitting in front of me. The man wore a down jacket, the kind with fur on the collar, and had a lip piercing. I’m not exactly sure how one would go about getting such a piercing because it was woven into his lip about 3 times. ouchh.

anywho, his girlfriend had greasy, stringy blonde hair, wore pretend SOLO pants, a layered thermal and no jacket, despite the snow on the ground. a woman who was beaten by cigarettes and cheap orange hair dye sat in front of them and turned about 4 times, asking the pierced man if he remembered her. each time in a different way. each time he said no. “do you know who i am?” no. “do you remember my face?” no. “about three years ago?” no. “you don’t recognize me?” no. 

finally he stared at her long and hard, with a just flicker of recognition. he said, “my kid’s mother????”

the embarrassing silence was interrupted by his girlfriend’s ringing cell phone. her ringtone was “teach me how to dougie”. i danced.

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