Biography

I was reading the biography of Hans Christian Andersen today--he's the famous writer of stories like "The Little Mermaid" and "The Ugly Duckling." His biography, however, was twice as long as any of his fairy tales. I was appalled by this. While I find him an interesting fellow (and I'm sure his biographers certainly did), I find it hard to believe that anyone reading his stories would feel the same. God forbid anyone do this to my life. I would never allow for any biography written about myself to take up that length (a 36 page introduction!). While I like myself to a certain extent (note the self-absorption above), I highly doubt that the rest of the world has the same sentiments. My biography should take up a page exactly. And by no means should I be described as something I am most audaciously not.

My biography should be as follows (or this should be the general outline):

This author was born somewhere overseas on a (relatively) tiny country. On her move to America, she was stranded at the airport because all the pilots had the nerve to take the day off to celebrate Thanksgiving. Once in America, she settled on the West Coast with her family where they lived a meagre but happy lifestyle. At the impressionable age of seven, she moved with her family to the Southeastern United States where she gradually learned a love of reading and books from digesting the children's novels around her. The rest of her life was uneventful. Surely, she could not be described as being deprived--she got to go to the beach many times. In addition, her upbringing in the middle of two vastly different cultures gave her a diverse view of the world. Growing up with loneliness, however, as well as an early realization that she was different from others, led her to develop a whimsical and mercurial nature. Aside from that, she still keeps a healthy interest in reading, writing, and fantasizing about things like magical factories and faraway lands. To the fulfillment of her parents' wishes, she went on to college (which she is not quite sure she will pass) and dreams of becoming many things, some of which include a gourmet cook, a playwright, a humorist, and a traveler and collector of stories. This harrowing individual has not yet died and so, took it upon herself to write her own (auto)biography.

The day after Christmas

The day after Christmas always feels strange for me. Everything seems to go back to normal so soon, like Christmas never happened. I turned on my car radio and it was playing the music it usually did--oldies and light rock. No more Christmas carols or religious hymns, no more remakes, covers, or instrumental versions of the usual holiday songs. It all feels so surreal.

So what did everyone get for Christmas? I know that it's odd to be saying that on a blog post but I always feel the compulsion anyway. I like to inflate my ego but pretending that this blog is actually addressed to someone, not just me musing out loud. I often like to pretend that I'm writing a letter to the world and that the world is writing back. It's nice to have an audience.

Going Home

My father called me twice today to ask what time I was going home. Ugh. And he wants me home before dark too so that means that the latest I can leave is around 5. I really don't want to be with my family this winter break. Thanksgiving Break was only five days long and even that almost killed me. I just really wished that I was financially independent from my family because then I wouldn't feel guilty about saying that I don't want to come home. For right now, though, I don't make ANY money so every cent I spend is technically my parent's money (or student loan money) which means that I feel guilty if I can't do the simple act of just visiting them every once in a while.

I wish I wasn't this way. I wish I did enjoy being with my family and that I couldn't wait to be with them every chance I get. Hah! So much for that. I wondered how I managed it in previous years. I used to...sort of remember being happy around my family. Now it's just stressful. There's so much tension and conflict there. And my father. Oh, don't even get me started on my father. Most likely, he'll want to talk to me over winter break.

Kill me.

Hope everyone else is having a nice Winter Break!

Two points

I am two points away from failing my most hated class. Ergggghhhhh...

Apparently, I'm four points away from failing Anthropology but that's okay because I don't mind taking that class over again if I have to, but Psych 310 (the one I need two points to pass), THAT CLASS I would never want to take again.

Oh, Lawdy. I need help. I'm taking my final exam for Psych 310 tomorrow and if I don't make a swell grade, then I have to re-take the class.

On a much better note...I'm so glad I have friends. It's amazing what they're able to help you through--especially stress.

Plus, I'll be dropping by Moe Joe's (that's a coffee shop) and seeing whether my friend Melissa and I will have jobs this winter break. Wish me luck!

iHome

So I accidentally left my iPod at home over Thanksgiving Break, right? Well, when I got back to my apartment after the one-hour drive, I realized that I wouldn't be needing my iHome (you know, those stereo systems where you plug in your iPod and it plays your music) so I put it away on a shelf in my closet (a very high shelf).

Well, last night, my mom called and when I tried to get my cell phone out of my purse, I fumbled it and accidentally sent it crashing to the ground. And it broke. It's a old-fashioned flip phone so it was split down the "flip" part. Needless to say, none of my friends can call me to hang out now.

Another dilemma arose the same night. Since I use my cell phone as an alarm clock, I now had no alarm clock either. I realized this as I was falling asleep around 1 a.m. but I dragged myself out of bed anyway and went over to the closet to retrieve my only alarm clock back-up--my iHome.

Unfortunately, I forgot that my iHome has a very large and heavy charger/plug-in and when I yanked my iHome off of the closet shelf, the aforementioned item fell (heavily) onto my foot.

I spent the next thirty seconds clutching my bruising foot and rocking back and forth in silent pain. It was very humourous had you been there to see it.

Well, after that fiasco, I managed to plug in my iHome and spent another three minutes figuring out to set the alarm clock on it.

And THEN I went to sleep.

Judgmental

It never struck me as hard as it did today. I'm VERY judgmental. I sit on my proverbial high chair and judge everyone around me. But I don't want to anymore. I don't want to become bitter and cynical and hate everything.

I miss the taste of candy. The sweet, rolling taste of smoothness on my tongue. Long times of old forgotten. And coming back to me.

I'm shallow-minded, too. Which is probably why I'm judgmental. I realized this as I was riding on the bus and thought about how my friends liked to look deeper in things and I never did. I was either passively accepted or rejected things as they came. Where's all the humanity in that?

I ate a giant sandwich of eggs and bacon today. And I managed to fry the bacon without setting off the smoke alarm. Woot.

Anyway, this has just been my experiment with stream-of-consciousness writing. Or freewriting I suppose you call it. My next few posts should be more coherent. Note the "should be."