I was leisurely walking to class last Friday, able to enjoy the morning since I'd attended the requisite number of chapels for the semester, when I ran into the news editor. Apparently, every single writer who had picked up an assignment that week had bailed on her, so I told her I'd take whatever she needed covered. And that's how I found myself at the Special Olympics Saturday.
I have to say, I felt pretty legit trolling for interviews on the track field, notebook in hand, then running back and dashing out a story within the hour, before the library closed. There is an embarassing amount of typos on these pages (and my headline would have made a lot more sense if there had been a comma after "Greek"), but that is what happens when the poor editors have to scramble for content at the last minute.
As for the rest of my weekend, I did my usual endorphiny bike thing. Saturday morning I rode downtown to Little Italy, where the ArtWalk was happening. Local artists set up blocks and blocks of stands to sell their work.
Sunday afternoon I coasted down to Sunset Cliffs and hung out on the beach for a while. The Santa Anas made for record-breaking warmth, and on the sand it was like a poor man's Hawaii; I almost thought for a second that I was back at Haunauma Bay.
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