I’m taking a little break from finals study overload to share some more events that I thought would be worth sharing. I had my Core and Revelation finals today, and I am exempt from my Chemistry final because I ended up with an A average beforehand. Don’t hate. Tomorrow I have the plant bio class exam, and Thursday is the plant lab exam. After I finish writing this post, I’m probably going to study plants for about 10 hours (excluding breaks).
First of all, I feel like talking about James Killian. Not because he asked me to, or because he has the cutest curly hairs on his head, or because he can ride a tall unicycle, or because he can run like a Zulu warrior, or because he can swim like a swordfish, or because he can make sweet melodious sonnets with stringed instruments, or because he has a vast expanse of pokemon knowledge (and other, less relevant knowledge), or because he can sketch like Da Vinci. No, I’m just gonna talk about him just because I feel like it.
Actually, that’s all I had to say about him.
Anyways, something really traumatic happened to me last weekend. I could have died, maybe. So here’s what happened: last Friday, my small group had a date with a girls small group and we went to Red Robin. That was fun, and then Levi, Kyla and I decided to stay downtown because others were going to The Old Spaghetti Factory for Sarah Scoon’s birthday. We walked around the mall first, then wandered through the streets toward the restaurant. Along the way, we found this totally ghetto alley littered with trash and awesome graffiti art. The group that was coming was late, so we spent time in this random art gallery that we found nearby. We met the showcased artist, and he had some really cool pieces. Then we went to the restaurant to meet up with the group, and had a great time. Since Levi, Kyla and I had already had dinner we just got dessert. Levi and I split some mousse. How adorable, right?
Anyways, to the trauma. We were taking group pictures in the lobby of the restaurant afterwards, and we all huddled up on this couch. The couch was in front of a rather large window that looked into a foyer room. I was on the top of the couch and had my arm around Michael Ricker and Graeme Lauer, and my back was slightly pressed to the window. The wonderful picture was taken; we all began to dismount the couch, and BAM! The window shattered to pieces! Everyone was okay, except that my hand was bleeding kind of a lot. My hand was basically covered in red and there was like a pool of blood in my palm. I cried a lot! Just kidding.
Graeme used his lifesaving/red-cross skillz and asked the lady at the desk for a first aid kit right away, and he crudely gauze-wrapped my hand after I pressurized it with napkins for awhile. Fortunately, the cuts weren’t terribly bad and there was no glass trapped in the wounds. The worst cuts were on my palm and on my finger. And it was my left hand, which was fortunate. The manager was really concerned, and I don’t have to pay for the window. I think he was worried that I would sue or something. Which I should, heehee.
When we got back to Whitworth, I went to a dorm medic who bandaged me more thoroughly and cleaned me up a little better. They’re still healing now, and they kind of hurt when I accidentally hit them on things, which I should remind myself to stop doing. This accident reminded of another traumatic event that happened on the way back to Whitworth from Gig Harbor over Easter break. It’s pretty different, but reminded me somehow anyways.
So Aaron drove Beth, Gabe, and me back from Gig Harbor. When we were about an hour away, it was about 8:30 at night, so it was getting pretty dark out. We noticed this grey car alongside us with this old guy smoking a joint in it. His headlights weren’t on. He was also kind of swerving. We slowed down a bit to get some distance, and flashed him, and noticed a lot of other people flashing him, too. He never turned his lights on so it was obvious that he knew his lights were off. We debated if we should call 911 or not to report this, but decided not to because we guessed that someone else might have already, or because we just didn’t know if we should. Next time I see someone like this, I’m calling 911, because of what happened later.
After about 20 minutes of watching this reckless car, we noticed that he was gone. We concluded that he must have turned off or something. About 20 minutes after his disappearance, however, we saw a terrifying sight. On the other side of the median, a car was driving into oncoming traffic—on the highway! The cars lights were on, and it was driving about 30mph. As we passed the scene, we started freaking out a little bit and watched to see what would happen. As we watched, the car started turning its lights off and on to mess with traffic. Cars were swerving to avoid this car. I couldn’t believe this was unfolding in front of my eyes. Then, I watched as a car ran straight into the other car head-on! Both cars crumpled and we were all in shock. At that point, we called 911, but cops were already screaming down the highway, so we didn’t get a response from them and hung up.
The next day, we heard the reports. The man in the car was killed on impact, and the girl that hit him was in critical condition. I just couldn’t believe that we had witnessed the whole thing from start to finish. It’s just scary to think that at any time or place, on any highway, there could be a wacko driving down oncoming traffic on a suicide mission. Please everyone, drive carefully!
Now, I’m gonna go sell some books and then study for 10 hours like I said. Byyyyee.
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