See, I'm Not Totally Useless

He was looking at me expectantly. Deep brown eyes that I couldn't seem to turn away from.

"What?" It came out a bit louder than I had meant it to...but he was being infuriating.

"Well I was thinking we could be friends."

Friends? The word made me cringe. Before he could take note, I turned and walked away, weaving through the crowded hall. I was swift, as if I wasn't actually there. And to most of the people in the hall, they would prefer if I wasn't.

That conversation from what seemed like a lifetime ago replayed itself in my head. "She's dead. Summer, your best friend is dead."

I needed to get away, before I hurt yet another person in my life.

But before I could make a true escape, he caught up, tailgating me.

"You didn't answer me."

And still I didn't. So close to the refuge that was my next class.

"Oh, come on, Summer, why not?"

"Because I don't make a very good friend."

"Oh I don't believe that."

Another grimace. Oh, George, if only you knew....

We were just outside the door to my classroom, but it was locked. He had me trapped.

"Why do you even want to be my friend in the first place?"

His response took a moment. "Because you look like the kind of person that needs a friend."

"I don't."

"But you are."

I sighed. My teacher was coming around the corner. My saviour. "Will you stop bugging me if I say yes."

"Sure will!"

"Then fine."

There it was.

The moment you've all been waiting for.

The proof you've all needed.

This is not just a blog where I spew random thoughts like a retro 70's painting. But, as the title generally states, a writer's blog.

Dun, dun, dun!

:D

Aren't you all so proud of me?

Well, don't be. I'll tell the truth, that's the most I've written of this book in the last month-ish. And I've had this scene planned since day 1. Pathetic, yes.

But life tends to get in the way of these things. Strangely, enough.

However, on the front of that other book I finished all that time ago, it is nearly completed it's editing stage. I'm so proud of my A for putting up with my constant questioning. Once that's done (probably in the next few days), I'm doing the agent search and query letter. There is one agent in California that seems very promising to me.

We can dream.

In other news, I would like the thank the 2 people who commented on my last posting. It meant a lot to me. You're awesome. :)

I'd also like to clarify that while it might have seemed specific, it truly was anonymous and multiplied. So for the one who e-mailed me, stop reading this or suffer the consequences.

Hmmm...well, I don't have much else to report at this point so I'll just leave you at that.

When in doubt, strut it out.

--Penny

Evil with a Smile

I'm a lot of things to different people.

To some, I'm just that girl who keeps mostly to herself.

To others, I'm a wild a crazy chiquita who can always make you laugh.

To my parents, I'm their intelligent, willfull daughter.

To my brothers, I'm the spoiled brat...who consequently had less growing up than they did.

Seems like a lot of things for just one girl. But, wait, there's more.

I'm a bitch.

I hope you don't mind my language, dear reader. It's terrible, I know.

But it's true.

I'm probably one of the few people in this world who can say "I'm an evil person" with a smile on their face and mean it.

I don't try to be this way. But I can't help it. I'm opinionated. Shoot me. And many people don't agree with what I say and believe.

And sometimes the same goes the other way around.

But how does this make me what I am? I'll give an example.

Recently, I've butted heads with a few particular people. We've fought and argued to no ends. Lies have been told from both sides. To sum it up, we didn't get along well but still continued the torture.

However, I was an unwilling participant in this communication. They knew I had no desire to be friends, but persisted anyway. And so...I played along. Going with whatever was happening, playing nice. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Then out of nowhere I would take them completely out of all areas of my life just when they thought it was working out.

Evil.

I'm a bitch, remember?

:)

What's the point of this rambling, you might ask? I don't quite know.

Perhaps I'm identifying with the main character in my book (which, sadly, I haven't written any more of in the last week...though I'm going to try in the next few days). She starts out a popular girl who throws people to the dirt when she doesn't get her way (of course, she'll change throughout the book). I'm what one might call a "method writer".

If my character goes through insanity, then I must experience it as well.

If they go through depression....well, I've already been there but you get the point

Perhaps I could be trying to figure out who I am. Dear Reader, I am of the age where we often believe we know exactly who we are and what we're going to be...but in all reality are in a hole deeper than the Grand Canyon.

I know that I am independent and strong. I have dreams of being an author and growing up happy and healthy.

But in all reality, I'm trying to discover what I am: Willful? A spoiled brat? The quiet girl? A bitch? A wild and crazy chiquita?

I'm all of these...and yet so much more all at the same time.

--Melody

Will I Lose My Dignity?

Enough of the girly girl talk.

Enough of relationships that aren't destined to be.

Enough of the college talk.

And enough of this feeling I've been holding on to for the last few weeks...

Yet it's this feeling that I can't seem to get rid of.

It's not the feeling that something greater is out there. No, that has all but disappeared. But in it's place...something else has arised. Deeply rooted and weighing me down at every turn.

I don't completely understand it myself.

At some points, I feel anxiety. Yet...it's not in my usual anxiety attack form. It's like...like I want to talk to someone, but I have no idea what to say to get the conversation started, so I say nothing but hope every moment that they decide to talk to me.

But not always in that context.

Other times, it feels like I'm going crazy.

Psychosis.

Perhaps I'm overly exaggerating things.  Maybe I'm having an extended anxiety attack due to all the changes going on in my life right now. Maybe I need to get back to writing in order to stem this flow.

In the musical Rent, there's a song lyric to the tune of "Will I loose my dignity/ Will someone care/ Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?"

While not exactly a nightmare, I'm looking for a way out and for help. I just don't want to loose everything in order to do so.

In other news, this blog has reached Germany. Hi!

Also, I recieved a very kind e-mail from a form of friend who's been reading this blog and how they enjoyed it. Honestly, it made my night better to know at least one person reads and enjoys this conglomeration of thoughts that I like to call a blog. If you're truly reading, you know who you are. Thank you.

Tomorrow, in lieu of having nothing to do lately...I'm going back to writing. Break is over...and the dark and edgy novel is starting once more.

--Trish

So Called Life

It's official.

I'm done.

Done with community college.

Finished with 43 credits.

And I'm pretty sure I have straight A's.

This year went by very quickly. At times, it seems to have dragged on, but when I think about this time last year--going to Disneyland, prom, graduation, getting a job...it seems like it was just yesterday.

A year ago today, I thought I was going to school in San Francisco.

In two weeks from today, it switched to being a school in my own state.

Less than a month later, I was condemned to my home town community college.

Back then, the term community college made me want to barf. It wasn't for me. I still don't believe it is. But I went.

I remember my first day as if it had just happened a few nights ago. Terrorized during my morning classes. Going to French at 7PM and crying the entire way home, wanting to overturn my car on the expressway because I couldn't deal with this fate.

It's pathetic. But that was my life back then.

Things turned around, as you can tell. I dealt with everything a lot better after that night. Community college or not, I was going to get my life back on track.

Everything has passed so quickly since then. First semester was over in a flash. Second semester went by even faster. Unbelievably quick.

And now I'm done, and ready to move in just three short months.

Sometimes it doesn't seem like this life is real.

Do you ever get that feeling, dear Reader?

Some days, you wake up from this blur and it almost stops your heart to think "This is me. This is my life. I've been living it all these years. And look at all these details."

It's my belief that many of us just gloss over many things. Stuck in our ruts of a day, we fail to pay attention to most anything. Life passes quickly because of this.

But when we wake up, it's like a brand new start on life. Noticing the details is both frightening and humbling.

And now I'm rambling just a bit.

My point of this whole blur of a topic is simply to state that this is me. This is my so-called life. So terrifying and terrible one moment, and so proud to have it the next.

Life goes by quickly.

I'm not the girl I was a year ago.

And I'm all right with that.

--Jessica

I've Gotta Feeling...

Since I returned home from my trip, something strange has been happening.

Well, two things actually.

First is that I've been particularly moody. It's strange. I don't mean to be going around pissed off, but it inevitably ends up that way. In fact, I don't have a problem with anyone in general. But my blood has been boiling at the slightest little thing.

But second is perhaps a bit more interesting.

I've had this feeling like something good is going to happen. Something big.

And so far, I'm not far off.

The guy that I like wound up dating another girl the day before I left for my trip. Heartwrenching, yes. However, when I returned, it was over.

As it usually turns out, I became his confidante about the whole thing.

A mutual friend of ours told me that he's been saying the same things about relationships and needing the right person as I have been. Fate, maybe.

There might be hope.

But this strange feeling doesn't stop there.

Almost a week ago, I was accepted by my 1st choice university for next year, with a rockin' $26,000 scholarship. After going 8 months thinking that I would wind up exactly where I started, this gave me hope.

I can finally get out of this life and start living this dream of mine.

What's weird, is that this feeling persists on in my heart. Telling me that something even bigger is out there, just waiting.

At this point, I don't know what to expect out of the next few months, weeks, days or even hours.

Life right now is a roller coaster and I'm holdin on to my hat and glasses with all my might.

I just have a feeling....

--Hailey

The Art of Conversation

Currently, there's so much other stuff I could be doing with my time.

There was a Geology paper I was supposed to write...but that was due Monday.

I have a Script Analysis paper due tomorrow...but that sounds so boring right now.

Of late, I find I have little desire...and yet so much at the same time. It's a strange feeling to consider. I'm so ready for school to be over with. One week from tomorrow I will take my last final and my life at this college will be over with.

Where will I go?

Well, that's still up for consideration. However, it has once again been narrowed down more in my favor.

Last weekend, I made my annual trek to Disneyland for three days of fun and frivolity with some of, what could sadly be considered, some of my closest friends. Not sadly in a terrible way...but sadly in the fact that I'm yet again losing friends in my home life. This is when you know you need change...when you find you and your friends in a million directions...and none of them are to the same destination.

Anywhom...three days at Disneyland. It was a lot of fun, really and truly. I made closer friends with some people who hadn't been last year. There was 39 of us (40 if you count the toddler that I pretty much just wanted to steal because she was so adorable) and it was most definately interesting. Good times were had by all.

I was sick, however, and the meds I take put me a bit out of it the whole time.

However, when thinking back on the weekend, and how much interaction had to be done...I realized that I've fallen into what could be considered one of the biggest writer's traps. You see, authors are good at imaginary interaction. When you're constantly in control of what the character's talk about, and how the conversation will lead to its pivotal end...having a conversation with someone else who is entirely in control can be a little terrifying.

I'm so terrible about knowing what to talk about with whom... And everytime I try, things just seem to spiral out of control.

I'm not a conversationalist.

Writer that I am, this got me thinking.... I'm going to attempt an experiment. For a while, let's throw the dark, cutting edge story off the table. Now I'm going to start something new. First, I'm going to try to take some sort of instruction on the Art of Conversation (maybe just go to the library or something). Then, I'll take the task of this new story: Someone who is a shy being suddenly finds herself in new situation. With this...she is going to learn to find her voice.

Sounds lame and formulaic.

But most books generally sound that way.

So, let's let the small talk begin.

--Jeannelle.