that perfect hand…

In Ocean's 11, Danny said that "the house always wins. If you play long enough, never change the stakes, then the house takes you. Unless, when that perfect hand comes along, you bet big… and then, you take the house." Here's the hand I've been dealt, sometimes it's risky and sometimes it's safe, but all the time… it's perfect. It's mine.

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what the heck for art thou?

Guess what?

I may have mono. I went for bloodtests and I was reading in a devotional saying that it is ok to not have it all together all the time…and it’s okay to ask for prayers…so if you can pray for me and cross you fingers that I do not have mono, instead I have low iron or something, anything, that would be awesome.

Also, just an update of the awkward-girl situation with the girl from high school in my class: well, she half smiled then half smirked at me on Tuesday. God is teaching a lesson in patience and “turn the other cheek” because my face wanted to smirk-smile so bad back at her, I actually felt my cheek have a seizure of mild involuntary-reflex-constraining (I just made that up, please do not ask me what it means…it just sounds good) from doing the deed. No longer am I feeling the need to settle things with her but rather, I am feeling a calm sense of irrationality on her part. So I am progressing. I don’t know in which way, but I no longer steal looks at her from afar or flinch every time her hand goes up “coincidentally” right after I’ve made a glorious comment for discussion… half thinking she is going to sucker punch me with her words. Nope, no longer. I sit there in my desk now, minding my own business. And since it is a Shakespeare class, and staying in tune with the themes of the course, I figure that if this little ordeal ever comes to a boil, all it will take is the option of three aggressions: a duel with swords, death by broken heart, or a beheading. Unfortunately, Logan Rutherford would not let me try out his sword the other day so I am out of practice on dueling and I don’t think either [the girl] or I would die of a broken heart from our “past” (or current present), so I guess our tragic fate is decapitation. I swear, I was born 4 centuries too late… the drama, ohhh the drama.

Come hither! Anon! (Please, again, do not ask me what that means)