Well, ‘BloPoMites, March is coming to a close. How did you do?
I’m actually quite proud of myself. I wasn’t able to post every day, but I was able to post enough to cover for the days where I didn’t, so I think I can still call this a success. Also, I gained some pretty awesome new followers, found some interesting blogs to read, and collected quite a bit of traffic (though that’s, sadly, probably because of my Fifty Shades of Grey posts).
I’ll be participating in April’s NaBloPoMo; in fact, I’ll be changing my badge once midnight strikes. Until then, I’m just going to spend the rest of this Saturday night (and the rest of the month, really) watching the last episode of Supernatural on Netflix, eating some Ben & Jerry’s, and possibly searching for Season 7 of Supernatural illeg—I mean noooooo. I don’t do that. Nope.
That’s right! This is, for those of you who don’t know, my second semester as a member of my university’s gospel choir. Gospel choir has really been an experience; the music is so different to anything I’ve ever been involved with and the environment is fantastic. Plus my director is one of the friendliest people I’ve met on campus.
So why am I seriously considering quitting?
It’s been a semester and a half since I’ve started my college career and I hadn’t once been to a professor’s office hours prior to today. Since midterms ended, my theology professor has been asking us to, if we could, come conference with him at some point; it wasn’t mandatory, but strongly urged all the same.
I was scheduled to meet with him at 1:30pm today, and as the time drew closer, a sort of panic crept over me. What was I going to do? I’d never been to office hours. What does one say to a professor during these one-on-one sessions? And how was I supposed to find his office? I’d never even been inside the theology department building before, and I didn’t want to wander through the corridors like the inexperienced freshman that I am. At 1:20, I finally trudged out of my dorm and headed to his office. Continue reading
I’ve been told that I’m a really good creative writer, both by peers and adults alike. I don’t quite believe it, but I’ll accept the judgments of others and assume that I do have some skill in that area.
It honestly makes me sad that people like Stephenie Meyer and now EL James are achieving all the fame and glory in the world, whereas I can’t even bring myself to complete one full story. In the eighth grade, I came up with a story idea and pitched it to my best friend at the time. She was immediately hooked and begged me to write it. I told her I’d have it done by the end of the school year. Five years later, she’s still waiting. (She hasn’t forgotten, by the way, and on occasion she hopefully asks, “So whatever happened to that story you were writing?” I then can only sigh and sadly shake my head.)
One of the items on my bucket list is to complete just one novel. It doesn’t even have to be published or even make it onto a bestseller list; it just has to be done. But I can’t make it happen. I sit at the computer, or I pick up pen and paper, and I think, “Today is the day I write a novel.” And then I start. And then I stop. And years pass and my characters are left trapped in my head, begging for liberation. And I leave them there.
I want to get back into creative writing again, and I at least want to flesh out a story from beginning to end, even if it isn’t that novel that I’m seeking to complete just yet. I think, now that I’m starting to build a small community around my blog, I’m going to start pitching ideas and giving out samples of my stuff again. Maybe the feedback will help. Perhaps having a few more people prodding me to write will actually get me to, you know, write. So here you are, my lovelies: a piece of writing that I saved onto my computer that I have no idea what to do with. I got inspired to write it one night and just hacked it out in one sitting, but then my juice ran out, and I haven’t been able to return to it since. (I’m sure my friends have already read this snippet before, but ah well. It’s going back up.)
I noticed there was a lot of text in this post, so I added this picture of a bulldog on a trampoline to give your brain a break.
Well look at that! I actually got a question!
Thank you so much for this post! I guess, in order to answer my questions, I should tell you just a little about me. That ok?
I’m 17 years old, I live in British Columbia, Canada and I’m home schooled with a private curriculum that will get me an American High School Certificate. (In other words, I’m not the one making up a random curriculum to later try for a GED). Although I love talking, and once you get to know me I’m as far away from shy as the earth is from the sun, I’m usually quite shy when in a crowd of strangers. Usually. But not always. Depends if it’s a good day. My parents were not born in North America and therefore cannot help me much with my questions. So, I’ve had to figure it out on my own. I’m an A average student, and last year I was on the honor roll.
Anywho, my questions are these:
1.What do I do if all I know is I want to major in Communications, but I don’t know where I want to apply that degree into yet? (Journalism, Professional Writing, Public Speaking etc.) What if I don’t figure it out by the time I get into college?
2. Is there a limit on how many times you can take the SAT?
3. Are classes really that hard? Or are people just scaring us high schoolers?
For now that’s it. Thank you so so so very much for the help! (:
Answers: Continue reading
My roommate needs to stop doing the following things:
- Shedding. (I don’t even know how her hair manages to fall out in hairballs…)
- Speaking in a British accent. (It’s awful.)
- Listening to One Direction. (Are you twelve?)
- Letting the garbage overflow. (For the record, all the trash in the big bin is hers. I put my trash in my own bin and take care of it.)
- Making that one weird noise she makes at her friends. (She just makes a low-pitched “ahhhhhhhh” sound. Why? I don’t know.)
You know you’re Hermione Granger when the thought of being able to take out a double-major plus a minor makes you supremely happy. Really though. I’m celebrating the fact that now I can take classes like “The French Revolution and Napoleon,” “Constitutional Law,” and “Islam: Faith and Practice” without and worry.
SCHOOL?! I LOVE SCHOOL! GIVE ME ALL THE BOOKS! LET ME LEARN ABOUT EVERYTHING ON THE FACE OF THIS EARTH! OH MY GOD CAN I TRIPLE-MAJOR?! WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME LIKE THAT?!
It’s like I’m on an extreme sugar rush. Except the sugar is academics. But really, it’s the same general effect.
My family says I inherited my dad’s passion for academics. I don’t know, man. I’m pretty sure my nerdiness could rival his at this point.