PERHAPS

Okay, so it's been a while since I last wrote here. Isn't that how most of my posts on this blog start out? I've decided that if I plan on getting some sort of job in some sort of writing field, that I should write more. That means more blog posts like this one here!

Part of the reason I'm actually sitting down and doing this, though, is because most of my favorite websites have shut themselves down today in protest of SOPA and PIPA, two awful bills going through Congress right now. In fact, I've even made a protest post on Celebs Without Eyebrows. You should go check it out, whoever reads this!

I've been feeling very hypocritical lately because I like to talk about writing and act like I'm some sort of writer, but I never actually write anything. It's like I just imagine that a great novel or poetry collection will just fall out of my mouth one day and I'll get published or something. Ridiculous. Hopefully, you will start to see more posts here, though. And maybe, just maybe, I'll become that much of a better writer.

Maybe.

Post Superbowl EXTRAVAGANZA

I'm not really planning on talking about the superbowl here. What I am planning on talking about is how I wrote this huge long post the other day, but due to my iBook's sad problems with its battery, I never got to post it. Also, I'm going to talk about how awesome today has been so far.

First thing: I wrote this really long post earlier that didn't get saved. It was sad, I'm sad about it, but I'm not so sad that it's going to end my life. Most of this is because I still have the info on hard copy (Do you guys remember that show? I loved the opening titles, but that was about it: "HARD COPY. CLANG," or something). I will just have to retype it later. It was just mostly annoying that my computer is on the fritz. It makes me think that it's time to start saving to get a new one!

Second thing: Today has been pretty nice so far, excluding the whole waking up at 6 AM to get to class on time to find out that the teacher doesn't show up and it's a complete waste of me getting up that early. That's actually why I'm sitting here writing right now. I've got some spare time, you know? Why not use it? But before class, I have to say, I took this amazing poop in the 3rd floor Language building restroom. Very satisfying. I think the whole reason why I felt so terribly was that I needed that poop out of my belly. Thanks a lot, party food at the superbowl party!

And I thought I wasn't going to talk about the superbowl!  Guess I was wrong.

Just Anything

I'm sitting on my purple leather couch, which was given to me by my parents, and was part of the cause of my first car wreck. My lady, Michelle, is standing outside in the snow and ice, wearing my teal flip-flops and feeding birds on the patio. She only started feeding the birds this week. I believe it's out of boredom, but she says that it's because she wants to help the poor little critters. The recent icy, then snowy, then snowy icy weather made driving impractical and dangerous. Everywhere I go, I overhear people talking to each other about their experiences with the icy roads, as if they were hardened drivers, crystalized by the terror of the North Texas snow.

Right now, one of Michelle's cats is staring at a mockingbird through a plate glass door. The bird's chest is puffed out, defiant, cautious. The bird hops down to where Michelle had placed the stale crushed snickerdoodles five minutes ago. I'm trying to write something, just anything to create journal entries for my fiction class. I pretty much hate most of what I'm writing these days. I feel like I have no purpose or direction as a writer. I've been abandoned by words.

Fingernails

I understand the need to protect the tops of our fingers, and to pry little things apart, but I don't feel that fingernails are really that necessary. Especially when they bend backwards and gross me out. Also, I keep them cut short usually, so as they grow longer, it's just another chore that I have to take care of and remember to do. I hate cleaning fingernails as well. Since my job involves dirty stuff, my fingernails are almost always dirty now, even if they're short. My job also requires that I deal with cardboard boxes all day, so my cuticles get cut up a lot.

In other words, I need a manicure.

I really want a cheeseburger right now. Or pizza. However, the roads are all frozen over so it would probably be irresponsible for me to go out there to get food. Even though it was okay for me to go out there and go to work somehow.

I'm having a hard time concentrating on writing right now.

I'm probably going to post a lot now.

So I'm writing for my fiction class right now, and I'm a bit stumped. I feel like what I'm writing is kind of good, but I have no direction for it, so it makes it seem like each step forward is really a step sideways. The document I'm writing only has to be 3 pages, but I'm having so much trouble coming up with even a single sentence.

I've been writing all night (since I got home today, anyway), and it's all been a struggle. Writing creatively is difficult when you want it to be good.

I don't really know how to end this post.

Journal Post

I'm going to use this thing like a journal now, so suck it up, dear reader(s). Feel free not to read this thing, but I have to write. It's good practice.

This is the second week of school and I kind of feel a little overwhelmed. I'm taking 16 hours this semester, and on top of that, my managers at work are wanting to increase my hours up to almost 40 a week. You know, just enough to where I'm not full-time, just enough so they don't have to give me benefits or vacation time. Yeah.  So anyway, my classes are really piling on the homework. Especially my intro to fiction class. I'm supposed to write something down in a journal daily, for at least an hour, but I honestly don't have that kind of time. Between the other five classes I'm taking, it's hard enough to even finish the homework I have to get done.

Also, I want to tell you about my least favorite class and my favorite class. Because being in the middle is boring unless you're part of a sandwich. My least favorite class this semester is my Popular Music in American Culture class. It's one of those giant lecture hall classes where you never meet the teacher except through his ranting, and he certainly never meets you unless there's a problem. This is great in the sense that I don't like the class and that will go unnoticed because the teacher will not notice me.

This is not so great because the teacher thinks he's got the big balls or something, I don't know. This guy is really into his power trip. On the first day, he kept us late after class to ramble on about whatever inane thing he was rambling about, and some student decided to leave because it was after class time. The "teacher" called him out, yelling at him to sit back down, and the guy said "no thanks," walking out the door.

I have to admire that guy's balls.

Anyway, so the professor yells to his TAs (he has 3 of them for some reason. 3!) to count the guy absent. Better yet, drop him from the class because of his "bad manners." How does the teacher even know the guy's name? He doesn't. How does he expect to drop the kid from the class? Who knows? Why even have schedules if you're not going to abide by them?

I was late to my next class. Thanks, Prof. Dick.

Anyway, my favorite class is Technical Editing (so far). I really enjoy copy editing and proofreading, so this class is going to go very well for me, I think. I also think it's going to be a lot of hard work. On our first quiz, I totally found a typo and called the teacher out on it. Felt good.

Okay, bye!

I don't know what to write.

I'm supposed to write a lot of journal entries for my Fiction class, but I honestly don't know what to write about. I have a list of "firsts," as you may see by my two previous posts, but none of them seem any good to me right now. I think I'll check on this site I found to help with writer's block. This is the prompt it gave me.

A quiet suburban cul-de-sac. A child's bicycle lies on its side, one wheel slowly turning.


Here we go.

A quiet suburban cul-de-sac. A child's bicycle lies on its side, one wheel slowly turning, the front wheel bent. A car pulled up to the downed metal heap in query of its status. The headlights peered over the spokes and chains, dirtied with bicycle grease. The car crept closer to the bike, crunching tiny pebbles between tires and concrete, making them even tinier. Shadows of the bicycle's body swung from the frame, connecting only at the parts where it touched the concrete. The shadows were like the tiny pebbles.

The driver exited the car, every breath turned to clouds in the chilled night. The car engine continued to run, the headlights stilled and illuminated the broken bicycle. The man, a lanky figure with gangly legs and even ganglier arms, reached to the bike and touched its handlebar. His finger stung from the miniature lightning bolt that flashed between him and the bar.

Fiction Journal

I know I'm making several posts in one day. Just bear with me, dear reader(s). This entry is probably going to be really short, as I only wrote it within a few minutes. It's another "First."

First Sip of Coffee (Sorry for Telling this One Again, Dad).


I was out with my family, June of the year I beat Zelda: Link to the Past. We were at a plant nursery; it was 100 degrees. My throat was dry. It was a desert cave at noon. I was sweating all of the water from my body, but it wanted more to sweat. I believed in death by thirst in these moments. There were fountains with babies, chubby and winged, pissing clear water into troughs where it recirculated to become more piss. Like my sweat.

I pleaded with Dad to let me drink from the fountain. He suggested his coffee. My dad liked his coffee black, and somehow, despite the swelter of June, the thermos let it get cold. I sipped it as my mom warned me against it. Disgust. Spit take.
_________________

Not very good.

Journal for Fiction Class

Well, my Intro to Fiction Writing teacher said that I could use the computer to do my daily journals, so I think that's what I'll do. Today, I'm going to do one of the "First" exercises. If you're not familiar with it, they're exercises where I just write and write and write about the "first" something; it can be anything, like the first time I drank coffee, or my first kiss, or the first time I ate cheese. Whatever I want. This one is the first time I climbed a tree (even though really, it's not completely true).

The Left Mimosa 

It was a mimosa tree in my grandparents' back yard, well, there were two really, but the left one sucked. I would climb into the branches of the tree, thinking about lazing like a gibbon in the jungle. My sister would come outside mere seconds after me, demanding the use of the right mimosa, but I had already settled into it and I was the gibbon. More accurately, I was a sloth, full to the brim with berries and fruit flies, them buzzing in my belly, eating the fruit as I was digesting it. Their tiny lives would be over soon, but for that moment, they had a feast in front of them.

I sat in the tree, my sister stood below awaiting my departure, the fruit flies gorged. I told her to climb the left tree, but she wouldn't have it. My older sister believed in the authority given by God's egg timer.

____________________________

Well, that's it for that one. I just wanted to get that one down in some more permanent form than my notebook. I actually wrote that one during class on the first day. Yay school!

A Scent Ascends an Ascent.

Okay, so I feel badly about the fact that I haven't blogged here in over a month. I don't feel bad because I've let someone else down or something, more that I've let myself be complacent. However, I have some free time between classes, so I guess I'll write something here.

So I'm listening to Justin Bieber's "U Smile" slowed down 800% (and trying to find the "%" on my keyboard). I somehow doubt that this is actually Bieber's song, but it is pretty and beautifully ambient. Maybe I'll start listening to more ambient music more often. I forgot how much I enjoy the form of the lack of form.

Having 3 hours between classes is not cool. I think I'm going to have to bring movies to watch on my laptop or something. Okay, I'm done.