I just realized that in the absence of my preferred writing I suddenly an overwhelming urge to write... or at least rattle on about nonsensical things in my life. (My internet is "down" and my handwriting is autrocious.) I was always taught to move with the spirit so now I write.

I was at work today talking with a student, as is my habit and duty, and somehow or another we ended up comparing driver's licences. (I'll have you know that the majority of licenses I've seen from the US are a thousand times cuter than anything Japan is trying to produce.) As the student was starting at my Oz-esque photo she suddenly squealed a little and then said that my face was thinner. I was happy, of course, but she made me think of another time in my life. A darker time. A time were seeing myself... in a picture sent me into convulsions.

Years and years ago at one of my younger sister's birthday parties my older sister and I were taking turns playing cameraman. We were both operating with the unspoken but understood, agreement that we would avoid taking photos of each other at all cost. For the majority of the day we were successful. Our efforts to avoid each other result in a wide array of sliding and ariel shots. Truly it was art. I was the best at avoiding my sister. From my footage you would think that I only had one sister.

Playing cameraman with a 15 pound monster can quickly becoming tiring so at some point my sister and I abandoned the camera. This is when my mother gained control.

Her "loving" eye produced some of the most shocking and horrifying footage I have ever seen. She has since that day been banned from video camera use. No exceptions.

After the party, we, my family and I, watched the type with great satisfaction. The work my sister and I created produced real Oohs and Aahs. When my mother section of the tape came my sister and I feel silent. There before us was a work my mother was proud of. The Blair Witch done Annette style. My sister was treated gently by my mother. I was not so lucky. I appeared suddenly from the top of the screen moving slowly. In and out of focus. Like a ghost. That day I had thought that I had dressed myself nicely, but the tape proved me wrong.

My large comfotable white shirt had been transformed into a long, flowing, bone white gown of death. My jeans. My oh so comfortable jeans. They reminded me of those pants that Aladdin and his folk wore.

I looked a mess. A large jerky, flowing, Blair Witch, the Ring-like mess.

I didn't mention my arms. My arms looked long and huge. My hands were even bigger. Like those things from that gargoyles movie.

long story short. The footage was so horrible, so fear inspiring that is was "misplaced" in a dumpster 5 miles away from my house after being "lightly" mutilalted with a screwdriver. When asked about it I just tell them that maybe we taped over it... or the witch got jealous.