I am not a poet

[The following is a sonnet I had to write for my Writing and Thinking class]

I am not a poet, oh you know it's true,

For rhymes simply don't appear in my head.

Oh those quatrains, they are far and few,

And that couplet simply leaves me dead.

Why do I need to write this sonnet?

All they talk about is love, death and that bright star.

Sometimes their words make me want to throw my bonnet,

Somewhere that is very very far.

However, maybe sonnets aren’t so bad,

For I hope this one has made you laugh.

Shakespeare and Keats really aren't so bad,

And they’re a heck of a lot more fun then doing math.

So after writing this sonnet, I guess it's plain to see,

I'm a poet, and it never even occurred to me.

Update: We had to read our sonnets aloud in class competition style, and I got second place. :)

Have a Holly Jolly Christmas (if you are a poor college student).

Feliz Navidad my fellow readers! Yes, I know it is a bit early to be giving out the Christmas greetings, but I can't help it. Christmas is my absolutely favorite holiday. It's just such a cheerful and beautiful holiday. My favorite part about Christmas? Giving gifts to others and seeing their happy faces light up with joy. 

However, this year, I have realized that it will be much trickier to give gifts and get into the christmas spirit. Instead of being in my house blasting Christmas music all the time, I now live in a dorm where there are certain quiet hours and other people. Also, my monetary funds have to go to more “important” things that getting gifts for my family and friends. However, I have come up with a good way to help you get into the spirit and do your Christmas shopping with ease!

How to get into the spirit:

Blast that music! (during non-quiet hours): Nothing gets people more into the spirit of Christmas then a good Christmas playlist. Just make sure that other people around you aren't bothered by the songs. If your unsure of what songs to chose, here is my personal playlist:

• Hark! The Herald Angles Sing
  All I Want for Christmas is You
  Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
  Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer
  Your a Mean One, Mr. Grinch
  Little Saint Nick
  I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause
  Santa Baby
  White Christmas
  Carol of the Bells
  God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

Decorate Your Room: This can be done quite easily and cheaply. One day my friends and I all sat down simply to cut snowflakes out of paper and hung them everywhere. We all got stockings and hung them outside our door. Hang lights around your room. One of my friends parent's was even generous enough to get us a fake Christmas tree!

Carol around Campus: This is especially fun if it starts to snow. Walk around and belt those songs to your hearts content. Even better, some colleges have programs that allow you to send a Christmasgram (“What's a Christmasgram? I want one!”) to anybody you want for a small fee, usually just $1.


Watch the Classics: If you and your friends are into snuggling and watching movies, grab some old holiday favorites and some hot cocoa for some great fun. My personal favorites for Christmas are A Christmas Story, How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the cartoon version), A Christmas Carol, Elf, and A Year Without a Santa Clause (Snow Miser is the man).

How to Give Gifts (if you are poor):

Secret Santa's are your friend: So you've arrived at college and have made at least 15 great new friends right? That's all fine and dandy till you realize you have to get a gift for every single one of them. But fear not my friends. Suggest to your group to have a Secret Santa, where you only have to get one gift for someone, and agree to a maximum low cost. Believe me, nobody will try to stop you.

5 Below is the greatest store in existence: 5 Below has great, fun items that never go above $5 in price! What poor college student doesn't want to here that? They have everything from movies to t-shirts to lava lamps, so if your stuck on what to get them. If you have a little more cash on you and have a girl as your gift receiver, Bath and Body Works is always a great place as well during the holiday season. They have the most amazing lotion infused peppermint scented socks.

Still want to give everyone else a gift? Candy Canes!: Candy Canes are always a great Christmas gift. If your short on funds, get the packs of the kind you would hang on a Christmas tree, tie a little note with a ribbon around it and voila! Instant Christmas gift. If your feeling a little more generous, try to find the awesome large hand pulled candy canes (carful though: They break easily).

I hope that this was able to help you get into the spirit of Christmas. God bless us everyone!

Uncle Lili Goes to Jail.

There was once a boy called Uncle Lili. This wasn't his real name, but his friends called him that just to annoy him. Uncle Lili was friends with several boys and several girls, and everybody was happy. That was, until the boys played a horrible, nasty trick on the girls.

It was Sam and Jess's first recital for the Dance Team. They had to dance at the basketball game that night, and were very nervous. They made everybody promise that they would be there to support them, which everyone agreed to.

A few hours before the game, around lunch time, Uncle Lili and his friends Corbin and James decided to go to Target. You see, Uncle Lili and his friends liked to play a card game called Magic.

If you have never heard of the game Magic, you may have never met a teenage nerd boy. Some show their Magic love loud and proud. Other's hide it a little better, looking cool on the outside but secretly wishing they were holed up in their room playing Magic or Skyrim.

The problem with Magic cards is that they are expensive, especially to a broke college student. So Uncle Lili and his friends tended to come by them in, ahem, other ways.

So while Sam and Jess were getting ready for their performance, three other girls in the friends group, Rachel, Colleen and Liz, got a phone call from Corbin.

Corbin, James and Uncle Lili couldn't come to the game. Why, may you ask? Uncle Lili had been caught shoplifting, and was in jail.

Uncle Lili was in jail. For stealing cards. Magic cards.

Corbin and James had to go and bail him out, so they wouldn't be able to make it to the game. Colleen, Liz and Rachel banged on James's door, thinking the boys had to be playing a joke on them. They searched the room, but Uncle Lili was nowhere to be found. It had to be true.

Then, poor Sam and Jess heard about what happened, five minutes before they had to go out and dance.

All the girls were freaked out and panicking, but poor Sam and Jess even more so, since they had to perform. They went out and dance, and they danced awesomely, but they couldn't enjoy it. They were to worried about Uncle Lili.

The dancing was over, but the girls were still panicking. Rachel was even about to cry. Unable to see the girls in distress any more, Jacob, Uncle Lili's roommate, came over and told the girls the truth.

Uncle Lili wasn't in jail. The boys had made it up to pull a prank on the girls. He had been hiding under James's bed the entire time.

And that is how Uncle Lili had the living shit beat out of him by five teenage girls.

The Lousy, Terrible Day.

Today was a lousy day in general, but what started it was an event so terrible, so awful that it makes me want to hide in a corner just thinking about it.

I wrote a terrible story. And by terrible I mean "why-does-this-story-exist-and-why-did-I-show-it-to-fifteen-other-people-when-it-should-burn-in-a-pit-of-fire" kind of terrible.

Somehow, I came up with an idea for a futuristic, totalitarian short story in my head. It involved a world were nobody read, so nobody really understands emotions and love, ect. There was also a love triangle.

The prose was fine, but the plot? Dreck. Rotten eggs. Dog poo. Yet I sent it off anyway to be critiqued by my classmates, thinking at the time I had written a piece that was good.

The whole week before my critique day, my classmates kept coming up to me telling me how much they liked my previous story, and how they couldn't wait to read my next one. They could only think of one nice thing to say about this story.

I'm fine with criticism. What I'm embarrassed about is the fact that I wrote this horrible story in the first place, that I messed up so drastically it made me want to go hide in the corner and never come out.

Bleck.

My Writing Process. With pictures!

Every writer goes about their writing process differently. Some have a certain number of hours in the day in which they must write. Others only can write when inspiration strikes them. Others even move into nude hippie communes so that the creative flow can fly through the air.

My writing process is a little bit of everything (Except the nude hippie part. That's just weird). To give you a good idea on how my process goes, I will provide you with some visual samples.

This is me:

And this is me when I begin to write a story or a paper:

After a few minutes of furious typing, random thoughts start to pop into my head, such as wondering who invented tampons, or why Tasty Kakes don't exist in Rhode Island.

Naturally, this leads to a Google search, and then to Wikipedia, and before long I have learned about the fascinating history of salt water taffy.

Eventually, all this strenuous research makes me yearn for something amusing, and eventually this happens:

This leads to frequent trips to Youtube, Facebook, or inspiration for another blog post (ahem).

Finally, it's one o'clock in the morning, and suddenly full on inspiration hits me like a fully loaded garbage truck.

Then I type a ten page masterpiece, and fall asleep.

When I wake up the next morning, I feel like I can put my bad writing habits behind me, and start to work on another paper. Then I start to wonder how rubber bands were invented. 

If You Need a Girl to Jump, Scare Her With a Chainsaw.

Here in good old Central Pennsylvania, we pride ourselves on three things: Pierogis, Whoopie Pies (Don't ever believe that Maine invented that glorious treat), and Haunted Attractions.

Field of Screams, The Bates Motel, Eastern State Penitentiary... the list goes on.

So of course, my friends and I jumped at the chance to go to Jason's Woods for the mere price of five dollars.

Now what you need to understand about Central PA is that most of it is farmland. So take miles of empty farmland in Lancaster, with no streetlights and dirt roads, and your already halfway through your own version of an horror movie (In this one, the blond with the huge boobs dies first).

The first site that we got to go through was this small maze. It wasn't that scary, since the only things that happened was this huge fireball that would blow up every once and a while and Freddy Kruger would sneak up on you. The problem with this maze was that it was extremely small, the the Jason's wood staff didn't regulate how many people could go in at once. So when a very large group of thirteen year old teenage girls decide that something is so scary that they need to stampede the place to get out of the maze, you'll most likely end up squished against the wall.

The nest attraction we got to go on was the Haunted Hayride. The problem with Haunted Hayrides is that you can't just run away if somethings scary. You're stuck on that sucker till it starts to move again. Because the universe is just and fair, my group of friends ended up on the same hayride as the terrified thirteen year old girls.

Here is the foolproof way to not be terrorized on a hayride: Laugh your ass off. The performers will aways go for the people who actually show how scared they are. My friend Sam and I, who were sitting next to each other, were never terrorized because we were laughing so hard at everybody else.

For example, while on the Hayride, at one point the actors bring out chainsaws (with the blades removed) and shake them at people. I saw a girl literally leap six feet in the air in an attempt to get away from the man. It was pretty impressive.

After the Hayride, we got to go through two haunted houses (Sadly, because of our amazing discount, we weren't able to go in the actual Jason's Woods), and somehow got split into two groups.

While dodging terrifying clowns and pirates, I learned three things:

1. There are some parts of the haunted houses that are pitch black.
2. The actors are allowed to touch you.
3. The actors are freaking allowed to touch you.

At one point, we were debating who was to go first in a very narrow and dark hallway, when somebody grabbed Sam and tried to pull her into the dark hallway. She, naturally, freaked out and pushed everybody into the wall in an attempt to escape. 

At another point, we entered a white room full of dots that glowed brightly. As we walked through it, we were scared out of our wits by an actor that blended perfectly against the wall. However, as scared as most of us were, nothing could top Jess, who as she saw the person, slowly started to scream:

"That's. a. PERSON!!!"

She then proceeded to push everyone out of the way and onto the floor as she bolted from the room.

Luckily, we all came out in one piece. We calmed ourselves down with soft pretzels, hot chocolate, and homemade vanilla Coke.

We then all gathered back onto the bus, everyone happy from a great night. Then, as we started to drive away, the bus driver made an announcement over the loudspeaker:

"Good evening everyone. I hope you had a fun evening tonight, and I hope you enjoy the movie. By the way, does anyone know the way back to your college?"

We're all pregnant now. Or have an STD. Possibly both.

WARNING: Due to some adult content, viewer discretion is advised.

Picture this: You're standing with several of your closest friends, when suddenly you are pushed into a mass bubble bath full of people. People are "dancing" way to close to each other, there is no rooms to breath, bubbles are towering over your head, most of the guys have their shirts off, and you definitely saw a penis a minute ago.

Actually, don't picture that. Very sorry for that mental image you are now experiencing.

Despite what you are now thinking, this was not a porno being shot or a planned mass orgy. This was SU's  Foam Party. The Water Club put this event together to help raise money to build wells in Africa (actually, I'm not sure what they do exactly, but don't most water clubs have the same goal?).

I've been to one other Foam Party in my life. It was at an Under-21 Dance Club in Ocean City, Maryland. The club, H2O, had a large pipe that dropped foam from the ceiling onto the dance floor.

This party, however, was a bit different. Foam still shot out from a pipe, but instead of it just landing on the dance floor, there was a foam pit. Yes, a pit. As in a very large bath tub.

Of course, my friends and I only learned this after we had gotten into to TRAX. However, despite our reservations (especially about the fact that we were not allowed to wear shoes) we went in.

Somehow, we got pushed to the section where the foam was continuously coming out of the pipe. There were several times were I was completely covered in foam and had to fight my way out so I could breath. I touched way to many slippery bodies as there were so many people in this very small pit. My friends and I had to hold each other up so that we wouldn't slip and drown in the foam. And yes, I did see a penis.

After we had had enough of the foam (and the penises) we fought our way out, only to realize that we were all soaking wet, wearing only old shorts and tank tops, and it was 50 degrees outside. So we sprinted, barefoot (our feet were to slippery to run in flip flops), across campus and got back to Aikens as fast as we could. We all then took extremely hot showers for a good half hour.

The next day, we all had a good laugh about our gross experience. Then I heard from someone that they had found seven condoms in the foam pit. So I went and took another shower.

Who Run the World (Squirrels)

Harrisburg had a lot of squirrels. Every day I would see two or three run up the trees and telephone poles in my neighborhood. I would often see them run across the telephone wires with a nut in their cheeks wile walking home from school. So I thought I was properly prepared to deal with squirrels when I came to college.

Boy was I wrong.

SU's squirrel problem (yes, it is a problem), can only be summed up with this picture:

I can see about thirteen different squirrels in 20 minutes. Yes, only 20 minutes. They are everywhere. I have seen squirrels run, jump, skip and frolic across campus. I have seen squirrels chase each other like they were about to kill each other, and squirrels frolic together like Simba and Nala in The Lion King. 

There are simply to many of them. The only thing that dwarfs the amount of squirrels on campus are the amount of recklessly piloted golf carts.

String Quartets Make Everything Better. Even Failed Waffle Making.

Today my school was so happy to see me at breakfast that they had waiters, fancy food, fifteen ficus trees and a string quartet waiting for me at the cafeteria.

I'm just kidding. Those things were not for me. They were for the alumni that were visiting for Homecoming Weekend. The school had separated the cafeteria, with one side for us mere college students and the other side for the illustrious alumni. They even got table cloths.

Slightly disconcerted by this, I decided that making myself some fresh waffles would be a good breakfast. I was pampering myself because I had just finished a short story that was due that day.

I walked over to the waffle machine, prepared to make myself a great breakfast. I turned on the machine, poured the batter on it, and let that baby cook. It smelled delicious.

Two minutes later, my waffle was ready. I lifted the top of the waffle machine... only to see my waffle in pieces, stuck to the two sides of the waffle maker.

At first I couldn't figure out what I had done wrong. Then my roommate came up to me, looked at my mess, and said:

"Did you remember to spray the waffle maker?"

Oops.

And that is how I ended up scraping off waffle bits while accompanied by Beethoven's Symphony No. 9.

What happens when my roommate drags me to the Anime and Manga Club.

I have a confession to make: I am a die hard Hayao Miyazaki fan. I have watched Spirited Away so many times I know the movie by heart. I love Howl's Moving Castle, and I like Princess Mononoke even though it scared the crap out of me as a child. I even made myself watch Ponyo more then once, even though I could barely stand the constant screaming of "Ponyo LOVES Sōsuke!"

However, despite my love for these films, I have never actually watched anime. If you were to ask me about how I felt about the latest episode of Naruto or Vampire Knight, I would respond with a huh? Also, I have never read any manga except for one series called Peach Fuzz in seventh grade.


My roommate, on the other hand, is a huge fan of anime and manga. When we are not hanging out or doing homework she watches it all the time. It's like her drug.

So naturally, when the Anime Club put together a movie night showing Howl's Moving Castle, we decided to go. After that, it was decided that I had to join the Anime Club and begin my anime education.

What the heck, I thought. It can't be that bad. At least I don't have to go to yoga.


This was the first thing I heard upon entering the club:

"For my coronation, there will be fireworks, ale and marvelous dancing, and you shall all bow down to me bitches!"

This was Dan, the VP of the Anime Club. He was talking about how next year he would become President of the club (I didn't point out that coronations mostly belong to the monarchy). He spent most of the hour trying to convince us of his ultimate power. He also liked to use the word "Bitches" a lot.

He also was engaged in a battle with the Secretary of the club, Megan, to prove that he was more awesome then her.

To introduce everybody to everybody else, we had to say our name, age, major, what our favorite anime/manga was, and who would win in a fight, Dan or Megan?

As everybody went, I heard the names of many anime that I had never heard of before. Who names anime anyway? Most of their titles sound like bad porn movies. Kamisama Dolls? A Bridge to Starry Skies? I rest my case.

Anyway, most people voted for Megan while about five people voted for Dan. Eventually it was my turn. The following is a transcript of what I said:

"Uh, hey, I'm Elizabeth, and I'm a freshmen Creative Writing major. I really don't watch anime.. like, at all. She dragged me here! (I pointed at Julia) I really like Miyazaki movies though, especially Spirited Away. I also read a manga about a ferret in seventh grade. Anyway, as for who would win in a fight... Dan, you kind of remind me of Josh from Drake and Josh... so I'm gonna have to go with Megan."

This is not an exaggeration. Dan looked, acted and sounded exactly like Josh Peck. Somehow, none of the other members of the club made the connection, but once I pointed it out they started saying how right I was and they all started busting up laughing. The President of the club even gave me a high five.

So that was what happened at the Anime Club. Also, I learned what the word hentai means. Don't google it.

Goblins have stolen my Cetaphil

The Scene: My Dorm Room

The Date: Today

The Crime: Elizabeth's only case of Cetaphil has mysteriously disappeared.

Goblins are running amok in my dorm. This is the only explanation for the fact that my container of Cetaphil is missing.

I took a shower, came back to my dorm, put the Cetaphil on, then left for class. My roommate left after me and locked the door.

When I got back, the cream had disappeared.

It looks like this:

If anyone has any information, please contact me about the whereabouts of my Cetaphil asap.

Or you could send me a new container.

Please mom?

Today, I went flying.

The above title is not some all inspiring metaphor about how I realized how to achieve perfect nirvana. Today, I literally went flying through the air.

Today was my school's Fall Frenzy, which is where they bring a ton of cool blow-up structures for us college kids to play in. There was an epic water slide, a water tag, a obstacle course you could race a friend in, and that weird game where you have bungie cords attached to you and you try to run farther then your opponent without getting flung backwards (Which totally did not happened to me. Several times)

However, the coolest attraction by far was the reverse skydiving machine. Yes my friends, reverse skydiving.

To prepare for this amazing experience, you had to surrender your cell phone, jewelry, loose change and any liability the company might have should you fly out of the machine and break your neck. No big deal.

After signing away your life, you had to put on a special suit that looked like Superman's costume (I'm not making this up). You were then given special goggles, ear plugs (The fan that makes you fly was LOUD), and a quick, five minute instruction on how not to die on this ride. So far so good.

Finally, you where ready for the machine. Before they turned the fan on, you had to climb up on this huge bouncy thing that had ropes attached to it so you didn't fly off. Then they turned the fan on.

One of the skydiving instructors then jumped right into the middle of the fan's air path and flew about twenty feet up into the air. He just floated there like a pro, doing a few flips and turns while in the air. He then gently floated back to the ground.

Then it was my turn.

After putting myself into the appropriate position (which frankly, made me look like a awkward Egyptian hieroglyphic), the instructors grabbed hold of my superman suit and flung me into the air.

At this point in the story, I hoped that I could tell you that I accomplished this feat with grace and excellence, reveling in the feeling of actually flying. That was not the case.

As I flew, though the feeling was exhilarating, two things happened.

First, it suddenly became difficult for me to breath.

And second, some of my spit started flying onto my face. Look at me being all graceful.

So as I flew there in the perfect flying position, gasping for air and feeling the stickiness on my face, my wonderful roommate Julia started busting up laughing at my awkwardness.

Eventually, it was over. The instructors who had held me the entire time flung me back onto the bouncy thing, and I could breath normally again. Julia was still laughing at me.

It was all good though. When Julia went, her goggles flew off her face.

Bean Bags and Goldfish.

Bean Bags are a miraculous piece of furniture. Somehow, somebody decided that sitting in a boring, normal chair was just too damn difficult. I mean, why sit in a chair when you can flop onto a huge, comfy bag like thing on the floor? Obviously, this was what the creator of the Bean Bag was thinking when he or she created it.

Unfortunately, it says a lot about American society in general that these pieces of "furniture," which cost about $30 but probably cost only about $5 to make, have become so popular.

However, this little rant was not running through my head the other night while shopping at Target. What was running through my head was how the hell are we supposed to transport this thing on a bus?


Let me explain. The Target in near my campus allows a night in the beginning of the year where student's from my campus are allowed to come and shop. Lots of things are discounted and it is epic fun. Being broke, I only bought a few essentials, such as shampoo, makeup, and a huge box of goldfish that only cost $5.00

My roommate, God bless her, bought a lamp, rain boots, a hat, all of our food and a bean bag chair. We left Target with feelings of great accomplishment and happiness.

Then we saw the bus.

We had to transport five bags of stuff, one huge box and one bean bag chair on a yellow school bus. As I looked around, I saw a mutual look of horror pass over the faces of the other students as they looked at all the swag they had bought. I hate to break it to you dude, but though buying that life size Iron Man costume may have seemed a good idea at the time, your gonna have a hell of a time transporting it back.

What ended up happening was that I grabbed three bags and the lamp while Julia grabbed the three other bags and the bean bag chair. We struggled and possibly gave several students concussions as we managed to whack just about every person we passed trying to get back to our seats.

Finally, with lots of bags piled on top of us, we began our ride back to school. Eventually we got back and managed to get off the bus without seriously injuring anyone. We felt accomplished that we had accomplished our mission of getting our merchandise back to school.

Then we realized we had to carry it all back to our dorm.

Splashing People on the Roof.

Picture this. The sun is shining outside after hours and hours of nonstop rain. The birds are singing and people you know are chilling outside. You decide to get your lazy ass out of your dorm room and walk outside. You walk down the stairs, open the door to the beautiful day...

And then a huge amount of water comes down on your head.

Luckily, I was not the victim of this attack. I was one of the perpetrators. (I'm not mean or evil, I swear!)

Maybe I should explain this more in detail.

My roommate, Julia, and I were being anti-social and reading in our dorm when one of our neighbors, Megan, walked into our room and proceeded to ask us if we wanted to hang out on the roof.

Confused about what she meant, we walked with Megan to her dorm so she could explain this adventure to us.

As it turns out, Megan (who lives in an awesome triple room), had windows that opened right onto the roof of our dorm. She had removed the screen, and if you climbed through the window, you landed right on the roof.

Naturally, Julia and I immediately agreed to climb onto the roof. After scraping up my legs a bit getting through the window, I stepped up onto the roof...and stepped into one foot deep water.

Because of all the rain, the roof had not drained properly, so the roof had become a mini swimming pool.

Julia, Megan and I began to wade around on the roof. Some people hanging out in our dorm's courtyard saw us and asked if they could come up. We said yes and five more people, including one guy with a skateboard, joined us.

That's when we started kicking water over the edge onto the poor bastards who decided to leave our hall. Many people where splashed and soaked as we took a sadistic pleasure in making those poor, dry people wet.

After about ten minutes we realized that one of the English professors apartments had a perfect view of our totally not illegal activities, everybody decided it would be best if we got off the roof. We left the roof, and Julia and I promised Megan that we would have more adventures with her throughout the year.

Now we just can't wait for it to snow.

The freshmen nube and other Orientation musings.

The day has arrived my friends. The day I have been waiting for all summer. I finally arrived at my college!

Ok, actually, this is my second day of college (or as the English call it, university). But small details like that aren't important. What is important is that I have finally moved out of my house and into my residence hall. In a few days, I actually start taking classes. Now, however, I have a few days of orientation before the hole campus arrives to take over.

If you have graduated college, you probably remember orientation. It's those few days when you can totally tell who is a freshmen nube and who is a sophisticated upperclassman. However, if you do have issues that prevent you from spotting a freshman nube (like partial blindness or a disorder that prevents you from picking up on social cues), here is a sophisticated guide to aid you in spotting them:

How to spot a freshmen nube:

• The person will appear to be generally lost and confused.
•  The person will crash right into you since all their attention is focused on the map they are holding.
• Said person will then ask you for help deciphering the map they are holding.
•  While in the lunchroom, the person will have a pityful appearance and slowly wander around looking for someone they recognize to sit with.
• They will actually attempt to dress nice for class.

 If you do see a lonely looking freshmen nube (like me), please come up to us and say hi. We like meeting new people, even if some of us are intense introverts.



THE DORM ROOM/ROOMMATE:


Look at those big scary words right there. Aren't they terrifying?

However, as I have discovered, leaving the bed you spent most of your life sleeping in is not the most horrifying thing in the world.


For one thing, you get to design a whole new (half) of a room! It's the perfect excuse to buy all those items you wanted for your room. Ever wanted a brand new bed set, or that ridiculous lamp that shines all different coors? How about a disco ball, or a lava lamp?

Well now you can do that and more!


As for getting your first roommate, well, the jury's out on that one. Luckily, I got an awesome roommate who has a great sense of style and is really nice and funny. However, I have heard some horror stories about roommates that seem to verge onto made up territory. Some are just insane.

For example, a colleague of my mother's told me about how when she went to college, she ended up with two roommates in a double room. One of her roommates was perfectly nice. However, the other was the child of Satan.

The COS took some duck tape and split the room in half. She then told the other two:

"This is my side, and that is your side. Got it?"

My mother's colleague and the other girl were to terrified to stand up to her because, as it turns out, she was the daughter of an Italian Mob Boss who was currently fleeing the country. So before you start calling any future roommate horrible, make that of what you will.

Greetings and Salutations

Welcome friends. The lovely thing that you are staring at on your computer screen is my first ever blog. Stand back and admire it in is marvelous glory. Study it. Be amazed by it's awesomeness.

Now wipe that tear from your eye. Theres a story to tell here people!

As an 18-year-old young woman heading off to college for the first time, I have received many reactions when I tell people I have finally graduated the (sometimes) hell hole that is high school. These reactions include:

The "OMG, I can't believe your going to college, so I will bombard you with many questions at once" reaction:
Person: "Your going to college?! Where are you going? When are you leaving? Do you know anybody going there as well? Can I come visit you? Who is your roommate? Have you met him/her yet? Will you party or study? If you could launch penguins from your dorm room at three in the morning, would you?"

(Yes, somebody did ask me that last question. To answer, no, I would not. However, if I could keep the penguins as pets, that would be a different matter)

The "I can't believe your that much older than I thought you were" reaction:
Person: "Wait, you've actually graduated from high school? Jesus Christ, your making me feel old. I thought your where at least entering tenth grade this year."

The "I've never heard of your college but everyone has heard of mine so I'm going to rub it in your face" reaction:
Person: "Oh, your going where? Well, I've never heard of it, but...uh...yeah, I'm sure its a good school. Anyway, I'm going to [Insert big name/well known/Ivy League school here], and everybody is just so proud that I got in there. I mean, it wasn't easy keeping a 4.0 in school and being a tri-athlete, but I was perfect all the same.
Schools were just begging me to come to their schools, and I got so many scholarships, it was hard to pick which one, because my life is just that awesome."

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On the whole, people have generally been very proud and happy for me when I tell them I am going to college. Most people are not rude about the fact that I am going to a college that not many people outside of my state have heard of. They are happy that I am growing up and making good, adult choices.

That is, until they ask me about what I'm majoring in.

We have all heard about "useless majors." By using the term "useless majors," people tend to think of majors that don't tend to guarantee you a job in the future. Theater. Dance. Asian Studies. Film. Retail Floristry. And the grandaddy of them all, English.

To quote Avenue Q, "What do you do with a BA in English?" What could you possibly do in the future after spending four years reading Jane Austen and F. Scott Fitzgerald? What could they possibly do in their lives?

However, whatever ill thoughts you may have on the English major, I come here to ell you that there is a major that is considered even more useless then English. A major that will make your future even more hopeless in society's eyes.

My friends, it is the Creative Writing major. It also happens to be what I will majoring in when I go to college.

I'm not talking about the English with an emphasis in Creative Writing major. I'm talking about the full blown Creative Writing major.

Now, there are only three reactions I get when I tell people that I am majoring in Creative Writing:

The "I have no talent or ability to write at all so good for you for knowing where your talents lie" reaction:
Person: "Wow, it's really cool that your doing that. I mean, I had no interest or ability to write when I was in college, so you must be really good at it. Yay for your naive dreams!"

The "Your majoring in what?" reaction:
Person: "Wow, I didn't even know that major existed. You must be super confident in your, uh, abilities. Anyway, I'm majoring in pre-med/pre-law/engineering because I actually want to go far in life."

The "Your poor, naive bastard" reaction:
Person: "I mean, you do realize that that major will get you nowhere in life right?"

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So here I am, ready to prove the non-believers in Creative Writing wrong as I blog about my life at college. Prepare to be blown away.