ridell high

On January 28, 1986, we gathered in a classroom at the junior high across the street from my elementary school to work on our Design-An-Ad project with the CEO of Tidyman's Grocery. Our teacher wore wooden dreamcatcher earrings, pentagram-perfect for little Satanist spiders. My team came up with a "no roof on savings!" motto featuring a boy in a hot-air balloon soaring through endless aisles of clouds.

We finished working. As I played The Oregon Trail on the class computer, an explosion sounded from a t.v. mounted high enough to vibrate the corkboard ceiling.

No one voted on our hot-air balloon idea.

While crossing the street back to my own school, a phrase in my head looped over and over like the footage on the news:

Sally Ride, Sally Ride.
You weren't in the rocket.
You did not die.

NOTE: this entry contains a giant edit that is also a lie

fell on 2005-05-06 at 10:56 p.m.

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