See you in a week.

And I'm off. Onwards I'll tread towards camp. The march of death.

Now I know to most people camp is a piece of cake, fun even. Let's just say my past camp experiences were filled with memories I enjoy suppressing. That's putting it lightly. I promised myself for years I'd never go back. Not ever again. I'd lost too many friends in the previous years to even think about enduring the circus again.

Then my friends started to plead, my mom began to harp, and my courage was tested. So, here I am, packing away. I leave early Sunday morning for a week of house-building and Jesus-singing fun. Sorry, I'm only remotely aware of how pessimistic I'm coming off.

Monday I finally went to that writing group. I was the youngest there, which didn't exactly come off as a surprise. There was one older man there who let us read a piece of his that the New York Times was running in its next issue. To say the least, it was astounding. There wasn't an error in sight. Flawless articulation and a strong voice. The group proceeded to rip apart each other's work. It was like watching a puppy being run over, tragically mesmerizing.

I'm not quite sure if I'll be returning to re-watch the horror. These were genuinely talented people who were sucking the creativity out of each other, devouring it like the first meal they'd had in days.

On a happier note, I'm making my older sister a CD tomorrow. I'll throw in a tad of rap to humor her, but the rest will be purely awesome. Marilyn's a musical genius, so she should have no problem helping me out. When I told Melissa of my plans she started laughing and said, "Hah, sure. Go ahead." Wait till she hears it. Her ears will practically explode!


Random thought of the day-
Paramore's new single is pretty awesome. Once a bamf, always a bamf. Oh, and I need to see Rent again.

Random conversation of the day-
Me-What time are we waking up tomorrow?
Friend-Too early for you.
Me-Ugh. What time?
Friend-Nine.
Me-Ew. Are you trying to kill me?

Who said I don't like change?

The time has come to enroll myself in a writing class. Let's face it, if I want to improve...this could be handy. Anyways, the only local class, or something close to that, is at Barnes and Noble once a week. Now, I really love Barnes and Noble. I've always wanted to work there. But, the thing is, if I go my work will be critiqued. Out Loud. In Front Of Everyone. Oh, ho, ho. Marvelous.

Maybe I'm this way because of Theater. In my Theater class the teacher sort of rips you to shreds every time you perform. There will be tears. Well, maybe in some morbid, completely dysfunctional way it's working for him, because his musicals are known to be the absolute best around. People flock to them every year. And the actors? Wow, you can't top them. He's got kids in Broadway, radio shows in NYC, and even a few in jail...not that I aspire to be a criminal, or anything.

Nonetheless, I'll show up with a smile plastered on my face. Yeesh. The things I do for writing.

Honestly, honestly, honestly.

Today I woke up at six on a Saturday. No, I'm not insane, I had to go to Saturday school. Fun. It really wasn't so bad. I've been about once every year for the past three years. I'm such a rebel. Two of my friends were there with me, so that also lightened my mood considerably. I passed my seemingly eternal sentence by writing and reading.


When it comes to my writing I'm very strange. Really, take my word for it. I have never shown anyone anything that I've written seriously. This may be because it's so important to me that I don't want to be completely vulnerable like that without being sure that I've done the best I possibly can. Who knows. Normally I save the majority of my writing onto my laptop. Everything else is written into one of my black and white 'writing journals'. Normally, I carry one of these with me as often as possible. You never know when you'll have a sudden burst of creativity and feel the need to write down your thoughts before they slip away. At least, that's what I do.

On a happier note I got my check in the mail yesterday. About once a month I get paid for babysitting my little sisters while my mother works courtesy of my church. It's a marvelous arrangement. So, I'll be blowing through that money as quickly as possible. Faster than the big bad wolf blew down the little pig's house made of straw.

Random conversation of the day-
Gay guy-You can always come at my house.
Straight guy-Huh?
Gay guy-Yeah, you can come and live with me. I only have one rule, you can't wear any clothes. You're comfortable taking pictures for the Internet naked, aren't you?
Straight guy-Um...no. I...I...um?
Me-Let's face it, you're never going to get an offer like that again.
Straight guy-I'll pass.
Gay guy-I had to try!

Random thought of the day-
Today I spent six dollars on coffee only to leave it in my friend's car for five hours, letting it spoil in the hot Southern sun. Wonderful.