Dana Burland

This week was midterm week around Allentucky, which means that the duplex currently looks like the aftermath of an atomic bomb explosion.  To be honest, the duplex has been in war zone mode since we returned in September.  Alas, this is a totally different post which can never be posted because if any of my readers were to see the photos that would accompany that post, Louise and I would be placed in quarantine due to contracting diseases from our weeks worth of dirty dishes. Anyway, midterm week. A little birdy told me about a month ago that a bus worth of beautiful men were coming to Grand Rapids for a basketball game.  The Pistons play at the Van Andel Arena downtown every year, but I had never been before.  Since it's my last semester, I've been trying to pay more attention to events going on and trying to be more adamant about schleping my little behind out to them.  So, midterm week or no midterm week; double presentations the next morning or not; noth...

My family is a Saturn family. Almost 10 years ago, my parents bought my sister a glorified skateboard- a Ford Tempo. Somewhere between paying multiple times the actual buying price in repairs and the mechanic referring to the beast as a ticking time bomb, it was replaced by our family’s first Saturn. A white, 1991, power seatbelted, passenger side mirror missing, engine that smelled like breakfast food beauty, properly named Tiffany (from the song “Breakfast with Tiffany”). She had her moments of protest like the handful of times her locks froze over or the summers when she regularly left a rainbow trail of oil slithering down the driveway. But among her aesthetic flaws was undeniable charm. She dangled beads from the rear view mirror proudly, got half the swim team to and from practice efficiently, and (as silly as it sounds) had a slick build that resembled a constant smile. She always ran well and when was in need of repair, was restored quickly to her usual self. It felt that sh...