ch.ch.ch.cheeeeese

I passed by a woman this morning on my way to school. I pass by her often and immediately recognized her gait from afar. I pass by many "regulars" on my way to school but this woman stands out for one unpleasant reason. She has a "poo-poo" face. You know the kind. Squinty eyes, scrunched nose, puckered lips. An expression of irritation and weariness worn on the visage, amplified by the general aura of disgust inundating her mere personage. Brings me down just picturing it.

Now, she may be quite the nice person. Perhaps she laughs easily. Perhaps when she visits her daughters, her grandchildren run to her screaming with delight, grabbing onto her legs, in turn brightening that dark face of hers. About her life, I have no clue. However, her face, her disheartened and daunting face, is the calling card she's pressed into the palm of my mind.

But I'm a firm believer in learning something from anyone, anything and any situtation. And I've learned that I definitely don't want a "poo-poo" face when I'm at that age when things seem hopelessly bleak. A pleasant smile with a hopeful gleam in the eye will suit me just fine. I'm determined to open my eyes wide, unscrew my nose and cheese with as many teeth as possible.

Just found out the other day that I won't be able to visit home this summer. Woe. But a smiling kind of woe.