I miss Kimmy

It's days like these, where work is going slowly, that I wish Kimmy had not committed Blogicide. The blog's title was Liripipe (no clue what that means/is from). I always enjoyed her style and stories about the subway, the city, her various employments, etc. I'm still not exactly why the blog was killed, but I sure miss it. Plus, she and I have a special connection from the first week of school.

It was the second or third class of latin, and we were talking about signs (natural vs. conventional). Fun. I hadn't said anything yet in section, and Kimmy was sitting next to me. She leaned over close to me and whispered something along the lines of, "Say something now, or I'll interrupt them all and tell them that you have something to say." I was somewhat shocked about this, but not completely. It was only a few days before that she had strolled in late to our practice seminar on CS Lewis' Learning in Wartime, sat down next to Mr. Coughlin, and just started arguing with everyone. This was followed by Mr. Coughlin asking her about a certain text, and she replies, "Oh, I didn't read it." Oooh you Rebel. I must admit the first thing I thought was, "Damn, she is cute." But that quickly melted into a sense of fear that if I said anything to contradict her, she was going to throw something at me. Don't get me wrong, I have always thought she's cute (especially as Claire in the Nutcracker.)

Perhaps it was this attraction/fear/curiosity that made me do as she said, and I ended up throwing out some jibberish about signs. After that, she just had the biggest smile on her face, like she had won. I didn't mind though. We ended up becoming friends because of it, especially over those tumultuous first weeks. Heck, she even wrote her freshman writing test paper on the incident.

So I guess now it's my turn to take charge and say, "Kimmy, come back and say something, or else bad things will happen." Okay, maybe not, but your stories are missed. The score must be settled.