i think, after talking to James last night while a little more than a tad tipsy, that he may have unknowingly conveyed to stupid little me the meaning of life. ha. no no. we were talking about the one-sentence story challenge, for which he has two great sentences. now, james is a much better writer than i am, so that they were better was not surprising, but what listening to him tell them finally made me realize was at least one level of creative writing (i think linked to post-modernism from my little knowledge of the "modes of expression and interpretation") is better because of the manner in which it gives the reader a sense of interactiveness by its indeterminacy. by not being entirely clear, the reader must fill in the blanks, does this instinctively, and then wonders why THAT choice was the obvious one for them. This was most more articulate last night as i lay in bed. oh well.
so, i enjoyed talent night immensely. john cayer is the most atrocious flirt. i blush. it's horrific. it was great to see so many people i never hang out with very much just because of scheduling conflicts. i may apply to be web editor for the void next semester. Steve was actually himself and not some monster playing mind games with me in the car on the way home and we took the LONG way because he said we hadn't been talking a lot this week (very true). it was nice.
i have a couple other good post-ideas on post-its on my desk. i will save them for later this week-end or next week. i need to get back to homework and researching. however, i would like to propose to you a new one sentence story. let me know which you prefer. the other was trying for something very different (more use of cliches and the like), but i think i like this one better. i am going to submit it because i actually told Shanti i would. I like Shanti. She's nice.

He barrelled through the red light into and over a crater of a pothole as i, sitting low on the beige-speckled backseat upholstery, bit my tongue.