Climbing fences
January 31, 2003it’s a good thing i was wearing jeans.
when the boys asked me to go with them to lunch, they didn’t mentioned we’d be jumping the stone fence behind the office.
“do you guys do this often?” i asked, apprehensively.
“oh yeah,” my coworker said, “all the time.”
i hadn’t climbed a fence since i was a little girl, when we’d sneak over to the liquor store behind our houses for bags of candy and sodapop. i felt like a juvenile delinquent cutting class.
the wall was almost as tall as i, and i stood there for a second, taking a deep breath and planning my strategy. i handed my handbag to one of them, grabbed the top of the all and anchored my right foot into the chainlink fence to hoist myself up. at the top of the wall, i looked behind and in front of me, and then went for it.
my feet pounded against the pavement. a dust cloud blew up from where i stood. i took another deep breath.
“landing is the hardest part,” he said.
I'm Christine, and this is a slice of my life—a sweet, rich, wildly indulgent slice that would taste really good with a scoop of Breyers vanilla bean ice cream. Read more >>
I run a darling, friendly, little graphic design studio.
I look on the bright side.
I take photos. Lots of photos.
I wish on stars and on websites.
I built my first web site 7 years ago and got 15 seconds of fame. (It changed my life.)
I launched, then relaunched, an online magazine.
I admitted to several embarrassing crushes.
I consumed more bacon than any human should and lived to tell the tales.
