tomato guts oozing

...snap. ooze. tastebuds somewhat approve. the little tiny tomatoes that you are able to fit into your mouth using only a small buldge of your cheek pocket. i usually like them. this evening i do.__ new topic. the car. i walked in the front door this evening, after pausing by the vehicle to see if the Yuck smeared upon the window was washed off from the rain. (yes, i drove around throughout the weekend with it on. my dad thought it would be worthwhile evidence and that the insurance people should see it. i agreed. though it reminded me of the death act i was involved in.) it was. washed off. inside the house, i trotted about asking about the days that my parents were a part of, and ingaged in a bit of usual greeting chatter. than with solom-ness spread over my very self, i approach the question i was waiting for an answer to since 12:39 saturday morning about. "what next?" (with the vehicle as the underlined subject to which the question stems from.) dad went on to state matter-of-factly that the car was totaled. i denied it, as i reminded him that i drove it home that night. now, i understand a bit about cars. a bit. not a lot. a bit. so really i was just playing dumb because if i would have truly paused to scope out the damage and the figured body-shop costs... i would have put it together the way the body shop people and the insurance agent and my father put it together-- i just did not have time to calculate yet. yeah. i asked dad if this was a good thing. totaled. "yes, jas-- and i will tell you why." and he did. i could smile after that. until i asked him if he thought the deer was really actually dead. "yes." than i did not smile for a bit. you probably don't care whether i killed a four legged prancing beast at all (i am not refering to avery this time). BUT the next time your eyes are drawn and fixated upon the rotting flesh on the side of the road-- you might care then. i am just saying you might care, because the image and stench is hard to erase for at least several long minutes. thats all. im just saying. don't cry for me. don't cry about the chunks of fur. whatever. don't cry.__ whatelse? i stopped in a camp last week and two of my campers from 6 years ago now came running up and hollering my name. it was really good. neat, to be reminded about the impact of an individual. it was wonderful to reconnect with these former jr.high loudies, whom are now beautiful ladies yearning to know moreso who god is.__ speaking of impact... i was looking through yearbooks last night. yearbooks from high school and from college. i thought about people as i recalled conversations about dreams and life and current situations with those persons. i prayed. i laughed. i wondered. and i thought about the imapct that they had upon my life. it was something that i hope to never pack to far away in my brain-- i want to always be thankful for the sharing of someones life with my own. good and crazy, crazy good. *bedtime. therefore, i will scamper. right now. night all. i hope the dreams aren't too scary with the roadkill talk.