Ewwww, what's that smell? It's stinky....can't you smell it. I can't sit here anymore, but I can't move. It's like a fog that surrounds me. It wasn't me honest. I see the the greenish haze around me, a light dampness touches me. Tiny green dew drops settle on me. There are people around me, they carry on as if nothing is going on. Can't they see it, oh my, can't they smell it. I try to blow and whoosh the smell away, but it clings to me like I am trapped in a bubble. I can finally move about, but it follows. I run, it runs. I stop abruptly, so does it. Go away go away, I scream to it. I shake and wave about, but there it hangs. I want it to leave, but it won't. Desperation, can you smell it?

The blue truck

It was late in the day as they sit crammed into the back of the blue delapidated truck. The breeze felt good against her sweaty body as the the chugged down the road, the canvas tarp clacking in the wind. Esther was next to her already asleep her head on my shoulder. Grace looked down at her blueberry stained fingers brushed the hair off Esther's face. Today was the first day that Esther had followed her big sister to the field to work. The day had started out overcast and she tought they would be sent home, but she knew she couldn't afford not

Laker Game

Rob got some great tickets for last night's Laker game. Though I am not a big fan of basketball, the seats were in row 2, you know with the rest of the celebrities, so I had to go. Here are some pics.


Up until now I’ve never really considered how Indian I was. Growing up in a small town I was the tanned kid in all the class pictures. The majority of people from the reserve went to the English school. I was born the summer right after my mother graduated high school.


I really am cool. I'm not sure why it has taken me so long to realize it. Way back when I was too caught up in being cool and wanting to live the teen romance life, but looking back, I deserved everything I got. I am always reminded of my reign as prom queen. My senior year was everything I wanted, according to a teen romance novel that was such an integral part of my days. I was always reading, everything. Heck, I read Mein Kampf when I was 13. Maybe I was just weird? Who knows, but now I can't even stand to pick up a book. I want to be able to read "grown-up" books, I have a copy of The Art of War, and think I should read it, but there it sits on the shelf.
But I am cool. But something about me has changed, I'm getting closer at figuring out what it is, but unknowingly, I'm still cool, it just happens.


The heat from the room and the cold from outside meet at the window in a light mist. Nina draws a smiley face on one of the panes as she watches the drizzle of rain fall in the mid-afternoon light.