A Lesson On Rules

This semester, I am taking a Creative Nonfiction class as one of my writing genres to get my degree. In this class, we are usually tasked with writing a piece on whatever our teacher decides he wants us to write on. Today's assignment was on rules. We can write anything we want to as long as it fits under the topic somehow. I decided I wanted to share this on my blog because I am proud of what I have written. The comments I got from my teacher surprised me. I was told that my voice in the piece is clear and natural and that really surprised me. When I am writing, I often find myself struggling to find my voice and the piece never turns out the way I want it to. However, with this piece, I found myself just writing and not thinking about the words that I was putting on the page. I think that I produce well written pieces when I am able to stop thinking about it and just write. I believe that there is freedom in doing so, and I love being able to set myself free from worrying about each and every word that I am trying to put on the page. I'll stop my tangent now. Without further ado, I present: Rules to Live By.

Rules to Live By

Rule Number One: Make your bed every day. No matter what, I try to make my bed every morning. After I wake up in the morning, I get out of bed and shower, then I make my bed. I suppose the years of my mom telling me to make my bed finally stuck. Or perhaps this is me finally moving up in the world towards total adulthood.

Rule Number Two: Don’t forget to eat. I know, I know. How can someone forget to eat? Well, I have…on numerous occasions. Oftentimes, when a spark of inspiration bitch slaps me in the face, I end up typing away at my laptop for hours on end until it is way past time to eat. Then, like an idiot, I choose not to eat. With that being said, don’t forget to eat because you will starve…and then die.

Rule Number Three: Get off your lazy ass and go outside. I tend to spend my time sprawled across my futon binging shows on Netflix. I constantly think to myself as I am watching Netflix, that maybe I should go outside and do something. Maybe I could go find inspiration for my blog that I have neglected these past few months. There was a time where I cranked out blog posts like it was nothing because I went for walks to find something to write about. Now, I’m just lazy.

Rule Number Four: Write something for your blog every day. No. Once a week. Or is it once a month? Maybe it’s once every two months. I forgot what I last told myself it would be. Either way, I have broken this rule for myself so many times that I just end up apologizing to the few people who avidly read my blog. I used to write for myself, finding new things to do and new inspirations. But now I lack inspiration to do a simple thing like writing a blog post. Actually, it’s not that I have writer’s block, its that I don’t push myself to write more often. There is a quote I read at some point that said writer’s block is just procrastination. After using it as an excuse so many times, I have realized this to be true.

Rule Number Five: Write. Even if you think it is absolute shit, write. There is always time to edit and people who will look at your work and help you to make it better. I suck at this rule the most. I am often insecure about the words that I put on the page thinking that someone is going to judge me based on what I write. I have always been afraid of what people think of what I write. But I have realized that none of my work will ever get better if no one else sees it. I think that is part of what encouraged me to start my blog two years ago. Even though I have been neglecting my blog lately, it is still a way for me to share my writing whenever I do write a post. My blog has helped me overcome the fear of others hearing what I have to say, but the thought of being judged still looms over my head like a pendulum. But hey, who ever said you had to listen to what people say about your work. In the end, other people’s opinions on it are merely suggestions that the author can choose whether or not to follow.

A Study In Milk

While I was having lunch with my friend Lis the other day, she did something that shocked me. Lis had come back to the table with a glass of milk. However, this was no ordinary glass of milk. It had ice cubes in it. Yes. Ice cubes. Lis had put ice cubes into a glass and then put milk in the glass on top of the ice. She claims that it is "an ice cold glass of milk." You heard right, a literal interpretation of the phrase ice cold. Now, I don't know about you, but I cannot drink milk with ice in it. The ice will water down the milk. It just doesn't make any sense to me.

Since that day, Lis has been bugging me to write a blog post on it. Here I am, doing just that. Now, I didn't want to write such a short post about Lis's strange milk drinking habit, so I decided to take a look at other various forms in which milk can be seen. 

Here in America, when you buy milk in the grocery store it comes in a plastic jug. Most commonly they are gallon or half gallon jugs. 

These plastic jugs are made of a flimsy, yet still hard plastic. I'll admit that I don't know much about it, but I do know that when dropped, they aren't likely to break. Anyways, to me, this plastic seems like a lot of plastic for one small jug. Plastic is one of the biggest problems with recycling and trash in the world today. It is everywhere. Many times people throw plastic away, and I feel like it is such a waste. Despite this, people still buy milk in plastic jugs. This is because it is about the only thing that is actually available. 

Plastic jugs are not the only form that milk takes. Now I am going to talk about bagged milk.This gets a lot of laughs from a lot of people. In parts of Canada and a few other countries, milk comes in little plastic bags. 

I don't understand why people think that it is such a weird thing to have milk come in a bag. There is a lot less plastic involved in it. Smaller, thinner plastic produces less waste than a bulky plastic jug. Maybe it is because people who don't have milk in a bag don't know or understand how to pour it. For some reason, people can't comprehend putting the bag in a pitcher and snipping the corner. It really isn't that hard to comprehend, yet I get funny looks when I explain how it works.

Personally, I think bagged milk is cool. It takes up a lot less space in the fridge than a bulky gallon jug and it is better for the environment if it makes less plastic in the long run. Even so, people just don't understand. 

Over the years, milk has also been packaged in glass bottles and paper cartons, but you don't see many of those anymore. About the only kind of milk that I ever really see in a paper carton is the weird almond or soy milk or whatever other milk it is. I don't really know. I don't drink the artificial milk. As for glass bottles, we don't really see those anymore. I wonder why that is. Glass bottles are cool. They can be used for so many different things, so why did we switch over to mainly plastic packaging?

On another note, the packaging of milk is different depending on where you are but the way people drink it is usually always the same. You pour it into a glass and you drink. You don't add anything else to it, with the only exception being chocolate syrup to make chocolate milk. I have never in my life seen someone put ice in milk. That is with until Lis decided to one day sit down at the table at lunch with a glass of milk with ice in it.

(Note that this is actually iced coffee because I could not find a picture of iced milk. Let this be proof that ice in milk is in no way a thing. Carry on.)

Does anyone else in the world put ice in milk? Am I the only one that sees a problem with it? I don't think anyone else does this. Lis might just be a little crazy. Well, she's my friend so she ought to be a little crazy to put up with my crazy. Despite this, the disagreement between "iced milk" (I'm calling it iced milk because that is clearly what it is) and just a plain glass of milk still stands. 

Honestly, why put ice in milk if it is just going to get watery and gross? That is the way I see it. My opinion is not changing. The combo of ice and milk equals no for me. Personally, I don't drink milk as much as I used to, but this draws the line. This is too weird, and quite honestly feels wrong. It seems like a disservice to milk. It never asked to be treated with such disrespect. It only came here to make our bones stronger (That's what milk does, right? I'm no expert).

With that being said, I'll leave you to sit and ponder this new milk thing that my friend has revealed to me. I won't try it. However, if anyone else drinks milk with ice in it, leave a comment or let me know. I genuinely want to know because it just seems so weird to me. Thank you for reading my strange post on milk, I hope it didn't seem too strange.

Until Next Time...

Finals Week Is Here

It is December. Finals week is upon us. Stress is in the air. But for some odd reason, the stress for me is no longer manifesting in such a way that I am not even  stressed at all. There is no looming dread hanging over me. I know that for most people, finals week is a defining moment in the entire semester. However, I don't see the logic in thinking that way. Finals week is not a defining moment. These grades may or may not alter your grade and GPA for the semester, but no one grade is what changes the course of your entire college career. Too many times do people stress out over finals week as if they're fate for the rest of college will change if they don't make the grade they are hopeful for on their final exams. I believe that people shouldn't think this way. Finals are just another grade to me. Finals may be easy and some may be hard. It really depends on the class, the teacher, and how much you have worked during the semester for that class. If you work hard during the semester and don't wait until the end, then finals week should be a breeze. If not, then in my opinion you deserve to be stressed. You are the cause of your struggles if you don't do the work. Sure I was stressed last week, but it wasn't over finals. It was over the swiftness of everything that was coming towards me. I couldn't handle the workload of last week, but now that it is over I can be more or less stress free for finals week. I do still have stress, but it is no where near the monster that I was dealing with last week. This stress is more like a mosquito. They are annoying, but not something that is hard to manage. Given the choice, I'd rather a mosquito bite than a monster with teeth bared standing before me. I think that this is something that people need to realize. Worrying over a few tests that in no way define you is pointless. It is wasted effort when you could be doing something else. Maybe I have just found some good distractions, but even so, I in no way feel stressed. I don't quite understand it and I might be getting repetitive, but I hope my points are making sense. 

Anyway, if you are like me and are in the midst of finals week then take my advice. Try not to stress so much about grades that will be insignificant to you in the future. When you've long since graduated from college, these grades are going to mean nothing. They are just stepping stones to your degree. Sure it might be hard, but some stones are heavier to carry than others. In the end, they all end up in the same place. Who ever said stepping stones all had to be the same size and shape? I hope this metaphor makes some sort of sense. The point is, don't stress so much because it is wasted energy. Think about other things and let the work you have done throughout the semester show though your finals.

And to those of you who have already finished your finals or are near finished, don't stress about what you got for you grades. I guarantee that you have done better than you think you did. That is usually the case, because when we get stressed out we naturally start to doubt our abilities.

I think I'll end my speech here. Good luck on your finals and try not to stress so much.

Until Next Time...

Gingerbread and Breakfast

On this rainy day, Georgia College's Habitat for Humanity hosted a gingerbread house contest during the Hanging of the Green's event. My suitemate Oliver and I participated in it. We worked for days putting together a masterpiece that is our "Gingerbread and Breakfast."

The front of our little house.

It took hours of work rolling out fondant pieces to adorn the roof and walls. We even created a little fondant chimney to look like it was made of rocks. From pretzels, to fondant, to royal icing, to sugar lights, and grass made of cake frosting, we worked on our little house. It is one of the best gingerbread houses that I have ever helped build, and we are so proud of what we accomplished.

The back of the house with the little fondant chimney.

(Photo creds: Oliver)

(Picture used with permission. Photo creds: Oliver)

(Photo creds: Oliver)

However, we did not win the contest. We are really sad to have lost after putting hours of work into it in the midst of the end of the semester. It was a really nice break to have been able to spend time working on the house though, and I want to say that we could try again next year and maybe we would win. Even though we lost, I am happy to have participated. It is always fun to work together to build something as cute as our little house. I only wish that it had not have rained today to allow more people to come out and see the gingerbread house that we worked so hard on. All in all, I'll keep my chin up even though we lost. Sometimes I know I can be a bit of a sore loser, and in this case, I'm taking the loss pretty hard. It is never fun to work so hard on something only to lose in the end. But I suppose that it is a lesson to learn. A lesson in trying your best to accomplish something, even if you don't always succeed.

Stress: A Second Person Narrative

Rain pours down from the sky as you sit in your room staring blankly at the ceiling. The stress of finals, projects, and five million other things race across your mind. Occasionally the stress goes away when your mind drifts off to something else, yet always drifting back to the stress of everything. The last few weeks of the semester bring anxiety that ravages your mind and body. You bite your nails, sleep (but not feel rested), and curl up into a ball wishing for it all to end, wishing that you could go home and forget about school for a while. Every semester it is the same; you know finals week is coming all semester, yet it sneaks up on you always. There are things you could be doing to prepare for the tests that come running at you like a battering ram, but you sit down and do nothing. You do nothing in hopes that the stress will go away because every time you try and do something productive it only makes the stress worse.

On this gloomy day, the stress and anxieties that have built up over the semester are all the more present. You lounge about your room in a state of dysphoria as the world seems to be crashing down on you. In a way, your mind leaves your body. It leaves your body in such a way that you are left with nothing but a blank stare and an empty shell. Silence surrounds you like shadows. You think of nothing. You only stare. When your mind finally comes back to your body, you are left in a worse state than before. You are left in a state of panic as you realize you have many things to do in order to ensure that you do not leave the semester a failure.

Even so, you plan to wait until the next day in hopes that tomorrow will be better. In fact, you know tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be better because any day can be better than this one. Any other day. Just not today. Today, the stress has become too real. The stress has entrapped you. The stress has placed you in a trance that you cannot possibly be rescued from. The stress has become a monster looming over your shoulder, teeth bared and ready to chomp down on your mind as the weight of the semester hangs over your body as if it were a pendulum.

However, tomorrow...tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow you will go to class and be productive. Tomorrow you will be more awake than you have been all week. Tomorrow you will put on your armor and pick up your sword. Tomorrow you strike back against stress. Tomorrow you will be triumphant and with this triumph, you will crush your finals, projects, and anything else that stands in your way. You will emerge victorious in this battle; stress will trudge back into its hole.

Your thoughts snap back into thoughts of today, and the rain pours ever on.

Hemoglobin Hemorrhage

Let's talk about something that not everyone likes to talk about. Let's talk about menstruation. Now, don't just leave before we get to the good stuff, stick around for a while because this needs to be said a lot more than it is.

Menstruation is something that 50% of the population has to deal with, yet we sweep it under the table and discourage talking about it. Why is that? Why do we discourage something that is a natural bodily function, a function that is crucial to human existence? Why do we think that menstruating is too gross to talk about? I don't know the answer to these questions, but I do know that these are questions that we shouldn't even have to ask.

As someone who menstruates, I strongly disagree with the way the world treats periods. We tax things like pads and tampons as luxury items when having a period is not a luxury. We constantly say to women who seem slightly agitated, Is it that time of the month, as though it is a bad thing to menstruate. The list goes on and on and on. Does anyone else see the problem here?

I'm going to stop bashing the way the world treats menstruation because I think you get the overall idea. What I want to do now, is enlighten you as to what goes on during the "wonderful" time of the month where you bleed out of your vagina.

Basically, those who are cursed with the Red Dawn are shedding what the uterus has prepared for the production of a child. When the uterus is not gifted with such a child, it decides to punish the innocent owners of said uterus. 

An angry uterus results in cramping because the uterus is actually trying to kill itself. Doesn't that sound painful? It is. Excruciatingly painful. For some people, the pain is so unbearable that they cannot function as they normally would. The pain feels like something constantly kicking you in the lower back and stabbing your stomach. Because of cramping, sometimes it can be hard to eat or you feel like throwing up. With that being said, those who are faced with The Gift of Mother Nature find creative ways to deal with the pain. I once (tonight) made a bowl of oatmeal to use as a heat source to help calm the cramps...and because I was hungry. There are also numerous amounts of ways to lay down just to get comfortable, because cramping=not being able to find any sort of comfortable way to lay down.

Along with cramps, other Shark Week symptoms include (but are not limited to):

1. Craving every random food that comes into your brain, including ice cream...all the ice cream. 
2. Bursting into tears for no reason at all or bursting into tears at the sight of any cute fluffy animals. Especially tiny little piggies.
3. Turning from living life as a peaceful, happy individual to a raging demon-like creature.
4. Sleeping so much that you forget what being awake is like or not sleeping at all. There is no in between. 
5. Constantly being bloated to the point where you can't fit into your favorite pair of jeans.
6. Sneezing and feeling like you just wet your pants. Even though it is just a lot of blood quickly leaving your body and possibly staining your favorite pair of underwear.

I think I'll stop there. The list goes on for miles. Or more. Or less. It really depends on the person. Every Aunt Flo is different.

I would usually say that I don't know why I wrote this, but I do. I am tired of the world viewing periods as something that is shameful. I want to freely talk about it without it getting weird. It shouldn't. I also want people to realize that it sucks for everyone that has to deal with it, so if you don't deal with it, then make an effort to understand what half of the population has to go through for the majority of their lives. 

I hope this was informative despite being highly satirical. Everything that I have just told you is true, but satire seems to prove points (plus I find satire fun to write). 

Until next time...

Hello Again

To those of you who read my blog,

I know that it has been a long while since I have posted anything new. This is the first post in months. I'll admit I'm a little upset with myself for that. I like to write, and I have been neglecting that for a while. Maybe it's because I haven't had anything that I really wanted to write about. Or maybe it is just me being the slightest bit lazy. Whatever the reason is, I don't really know what yet, I am going to try to make myself find things to write about. I know that this isn't the first time that I've said this, but maybe this time I'll actually listen to myself.

Anyways, I still don't have anything that I really wanted to write about in this post, but maybe I'll just give a small update into the world of Katie. I am now a sophomore at Georgia College, and I think it is going relatively well. You know, aside from being buried in assignments like everyone is in college. Nothing has really changed from last year at school to this year. I think I am still relatively the same person, maybe I talk a little bit more than I used to, but nothing major is new with me. At least, I don't think so. Maybe other people see something different than I do; I don't really know.

There's not much else that I can think of to say at the moment, so I'll just leave you with the knowledge that I still plan to post to my blog. It might just be more spread out than I usually say it will be.

Until next time,
-Katie

An Accidental Hike

Today, I embarked on a hike that was a little over three miles...accidentally. Yes. I accidentally went on a three mile hike. You're probably wondering how I could accidentally go on a hike, or why I even ventured outside the safety of the indoors. My answer to that is I don't know. I ventured outdoors because I was bored, and then we got lost in the woods a little bit. We made it out alive.

The hike started off in the woods. We found a trail and followed it. Where we started was near a pond, where we ended up when we made it out of the woods, was an open field on the opposite side of the pond. I don't entirely understand how we could have possibly ended up on the opposite side, but it happened. As we were walking, we heard what sounded like creepy ice cream truck music. It was slightly alarming, but it stopped as we continued to walk. Eventually, after three miles, we ended up back at the car.

I don't really know what I wanted to say with this blog post, but maybe it has to do with stepping out of a comfort zone. As I'm going through my first year of college, I find myself doing things that I never thought I'd do like walking alone or walking over train tracks way up in the air. I've stepped out of my comfort zone many times, most of which were accidental. Maybe that's why I have started doing things that I never would have done before. With things being accidental, I don't think about it as much and just do it. I think that's the thing, the more we think, the less we do. maybe its just the way the human brain is wired to work. Constantly thinking about things that we don't like, or things that we are dead set on not doing makes us incapable of actually doing things and living our lives. If we constantly think more and do less, then we will never learn new things and have memorable experiences. We end up being stuck in our same old routines and never stepping foot in anything new. We create bubbles for ourselves and we get stuck.

For me, I have always kept to myself and stayed in my bubble. I think college has changed that for me a little bit and I'm actually doing different things. I don't really like the outdoors, and today's hike left me itchy, sweaty, sore, and probably a little sunburnt, but I realized I do like to walk. It's nice to just walk around and look at stuff from a different perspective. It makes the bubble I created for myself less of a bubble. So my message here is to go out and do things without thinking. Be a little reckless (be safe and make smart decisions while doing it though) and have an adventure. It might change your perspective a little bit.

Being Productive

It's common knowledge that being productive is a challenge. I often find myself stuck in a rut, unable to be fully productive. I might get part of something done, but I'll get distracted trying to complete it. Being productive is hard. For me, I end up sleeping or watching something on Netflix when I should be doing homework or studying. When I am at school, I end up with days where I am really productive and days where I can't get off my lazy butt for the life of me. 

Anyways, I'm on spring break, and I'm surprisingly being productive. Maybe I needed a change of scenery in order to maximize my productivity. I'm not really sure why I am working so diligently on my homework. Maybe it's because it's mainly writing that I have to do. Having to write for a class is different than writing for fun, but it's writing and it interests me. Sure, I am doing an assignment, but it allows me to be creative and write what I want to. It also helps me find things to write about for fun, which is really cool.

Whether it be homework or writing for fun, I've actually been really productive these past few days. I have no idea what sparked me to be productive as opposed to just lounging around all day. I also have no idea where I am going with this post. Maybe I just wanted to share a few thoughts on productivity and how I have actually managed to be more productive than I have been in several months. I assume it is because school can be draining. There are assignments constantly being thrown at you (sometimes it feels like getting hit in the face with a brick and then run over by a bus), and it can be hard to find a rhythm to getting all of the work done without pulling an all-nighter. I almost never find the time to finish it all without the stress that comes with the assignments, so it surprised me at how productive I've been this week. Maybe having a whole week that allows me to do things at my own pace without rushing to get something done is helping my productivity. I don't really know, but I am pleasantly surprised. 

For those who find yourselves stuck in an unproductive hole, know that you can get out of it. Perhaps try to avoid the things that distract you from doing your work, you might find that it helps. I've been trying to avoid sitting on the couch and watching Netflix, and I'd say it helped me out quite a bit. Good luck with being productive and thanks for reading.

Criticism and Change

It is currently spring break for me, so I have the week off from school. What most people do on spring break is to go out and have fun, usually at the beach. I, on the other hand, work on homework. One assignment in particular is my final portfolio for my creative writing class. The assignment is to provide a creative response to one of the selected pieces (I chose Dante's Inferno), some comments made from our workshops throughout the semester, and 25-30 pages of revised original work. As I've spent the past two days working on combining what I want to include in my 25-30 pages, I realized I've written a lot more poetry than I thought. I have also realized that my fiction writing is rather terrible. I know it might be better than what I think of it, but it still needs a massive amount of work.

Since the 25-30 pages are supposed to be revised, I have been going back and changing things that really need to be changed in my poems. However, whenever I get to a poem that has been workshopped or one that has had constructive comments made, I find myself stuck. One poem I took the constructive criticism and changed the poem, while still keeping its original message. The other poem, I cannot bring myself to change. I did make changes to the punctuation because the comments made about it made grammatical sense, but I couldn't change the actual words written on the page. I don't really know why I can't alter the poem, and it's not that I disagree with the criticism of the poem. I do agree with the criticism. Things need to be changed in the poem in order for the details within it to provide clarity to the reader.

Before this blog post turns into an essay, I think I'll get right to the point. I know that when you workshop a piece, you can choose to take the criticism about your work and revise your piece with it or you can leave it as is. Whenever we receive criticism we usually change in order to appease those making the comments. However, it is okay to go against it and leave something alone. With that being said, I believe that I will leave my poem as is because I simply cannot do otherwise. For whatever reason I can't change the poem, whether it be because I don't want to lose what the poem already has or because of what the poem is about, I know that it is okay. I suppose the "life lesson" I'm trying to point out is that it is okay to not change. Even if we're criticized into thinking that something could be better, we can still see the strength in what is already there. I believe that this doesn't just apply to writing. Sure, writing is about deciding whether or not to utilize criticism, everyday people can make the same decision. We can decide to change because someone says something about us that we don't like, or we can stand out and be different. I guess it's all about perspective.

Anyways, I didn't intend for this post to become deep or have any meaning behind it, but hey, the words just came out of my brain. I hope my thoughts on this help anyone who feels like criticism can be too much sometimes. Once again, thank you for reading.

A New Interest

I know it has been a while since I last wrote a post for this blog, but I haven't had much that I really wanted to write about or that I felt was worthy enough to share. For the past few days, I have wanted to write but nothing really came out of my brain and into words. I just sat at my computer staring blankly trying to come up with something to satisfy my desire to write, but nothing came to my brain. Today I was working on a script for my creative writing class, and I felt like writing a blog post too. It won't be a long one, just a short update, but here it is.

Currently, in my intro to creative writing class, we are learning how to do screenplays. Screenplays are not a type of writing that I have had any previous experience with, and I'll admit, I found it rather challenging to get the hang of. However, with some scriptwriting software (celtx) I found online and some patience (I know, I can have very little of that), I started to figure out more of what I was doing. Currently, I've only written two scenes of a script for one assignment, but the more I write for it, the more I like writing scripts. I suppose it is a bit early to decide that, but I think it is really cool how specific you can get when writing a script. Everything has to be concise and to the point, which I both enjoy and find fascinating.

In a way, despite finding it difficult to get the hang of, I think I prefer writing scripts over fiction pieces. Although I don't have much experience writing either, I can say that with time I think I'll get better at both. I have that to look forward to, but poetry will always be my favorite genre to write.

I might just play around with the scriptwriting software and write scripts for fun. Maybe I'll do that in my spare time rather than watch Netflix or nap (but we all know how I like my naps). Maybe I'll work on a script whenever I don't feel like watching Netflix. Who knows?

Anyways, that's it for this post. There's not much else I really want to say at the moment. I know this post is a short one, but thank you for reading.

Fear & Train Tracks

You stand overlooking the train tracks. A bridge sits before you with shallow water flowing far beneath. Before the fear can take hold of you, you take your first step across the tracks. There is no rail to grab onto if your balance is lost. Just you, the tracks beneath your feet, and the wind billowing past you threatening to push you over the edge.

Fear enters your mind as you take your first few steps. With the fear comes an orange haze blocking your vision. If you look ahead, you cannot see where you step and risk falling. If you look down, you see how far down the ground really is and you grow dizzy. Your head spins. No matter where you look, the orange haze continues to fog your mind and the fear grows ever on. One foot in front of the other, choosing to look down at where you place your feet, you trek onward. 

Halfway across the bridge, you realize that it is not as bad as it was in the beginning. The orange haze of fear starts to lose its grasp on your mind. You begin to see other colors. The blue of the sky. The specks of green in the trees. The colorful graffiti that paints the tracks. Crossing the distance up in the air, you take back control of the fear. Although your fear continues to grow, you are able to keep it at bay as you see the colorful world around you at the heights of your adventure. 

As you approach the end of the bridge, back to solid land, you begin to see more color than you could see before. You see rainbows where once lay only an orange haze. The fear is kept locked away as you reach the end. You place your feet on solid ground and look back at what you have just accomplished. You, with your intense fear of heights, crossed over the train tracks with nothing below you. You think back on what could have happened if you were to fall. Those dark thoughts seem like nothing as you stare on at the colors that surround you. You see every color as the original fear slips away into nothing.

Yesterday I did what I never thought I would do. I walked across a bridge with nothing but train tracks. (See the picture below)

I have a fear of heights so it was borderline traumatizing for me to do. It was spur of the moment and it was quite a long bridge (or at least I thought it was with my fear making it scarier than it actually was) with nothing but a long drop beneath it. I suppose fear is something that is a bit trivial. If you let it control you, you never really get to experience anything. But, if you face it, you can do the unthinkable. Sure it is terrifying to do something you are afraid of, but once you do it you have both experienced something new and faced your fears. However, facing your fears does not necessarily mean that you overcome them. I faced my fear of heights and did what I will never do again. I am still afraid of heights, and I don't think that it is something I will ever get rid of. At least I can say that I did what I did. It was an experience, and I'm glad I did something new for me. 

I Am Alive: An Update

Yes, I am still alive. It has been quite a while since I have written a blog post and a whim of inspiration (if you can even call it inspiration, I really just felt like writing) swept over me. So, here I am, back at it again.

I suppose I should begin with an apology to all of my dear readers (even if my readers only consists of my amazing boyfriend and my wonderful family, my readers are dear to me). I am sorry that it has taken me months to write another post. I made a statement with one of my previous posts that I would try to write as often as I could, and sadly it has not been often enough. It has been months, and for that, I am sorry.

Now, this post is not going to be dedicated solely to apologies. I feel as though I need to update on my college experience. After all, it has been a whole semester since I have written anything.

My first semester of college was a roller-coaster. I was writing multiple papers weekly. I was constantly working on assignments with little hope of a break between them. At times I thought that I would just give up because the courses I was taking were difficult. In the end, I let my courses get in the way of my writing. I only had one English class, and it never gave me the chance to write what I want to write. With that being said, I allowed my classes to push my writing aside just to keep up with the bustling life of a college student. Although that happened, I survived my first semester of college with 1 A and 5 B's. These may not have been the grades I wanted, but I am pleased with the outcome.

Now I am in my second semester of my freshman year of college. I get to start in classes for my major, which include Intro to Creative Writing. My creative writing class is easily my favorite class at the moment. Already, I have gotten to write some more poetry and share it with my fellow creative writing students. There may only be 15 of us, but we are all so similar and different at the same time. The atmosphere of the class is one that I want to be in. I have always been nervous to share my writing with anyone, but in that class I am freed from those nerves.

Throughout this coming semester, I hope to write more often than I did last semester. Having courses that allow me to open up my creativity with writing, I should like to think that this hope shall be fulfilled. In addition to writing more, I have another goal in mind. I shall strive to have even higher grades than the previous semester.

Thank you all for reading my simple update on things. I shall write again soon.

Shakespeare: A Love/Hate Relationship

William Shakespeare. A name that strikes both profound love and immense hatred in people of all ages. Most people either love him or hate him, never both.

I suppose I am one of the people who both love Shakespeare and hate Shakespeare. The main reason I love Shakespeare is for the fact that he truly had a way with words. He could turn something ordinary into something beautiful with just words. He could make death tragic and poetic. He is continuously hated by students everywhere, and I love being one of the few who actually appreciate his works. The reason I hate Shakespeare, though, is that one can always tell when something was written by him. He doesn't have a voice that changes with each work. I always admire authors who can change their voices in writing. It means that they aren't limited to a set style and can express themselves in multiple ways. Either way, I find Shakespeare intriguing and fun to read.

Now, you may be wondering why all the talk of Shakespeare. Tonight, I attended the first meeting of GCSU's Shakespearean Circle. It's a club dedicated to reading plays by Shakespeare and to be quite honest it's a club filled with a diverse group of people. Not everyone is an English major and not everyone is the same. We're just a bunch of people who like Shakespeare. To be honest, I had my doubts at first. I wasn't sure about joining a club, but, after attending the meeting, I can say wholeheartedly that I will attend all of the future meetings. 

To be surrounded by people who share a common interest and who are equally as enthusiastic about something is quite liberating. I felt comfortable and that's something hard for me to feel when trying something new. I didn't feel out of place, I felt connected to something bigger (although the club itself is somewhat small, it is bigger than I). It is a feeling that I think I needed to feel (plus it gets me out of my room and doing something I enjoy). 

I suppose I want to say this to everyone who is on the fence about joining something, to everyone who is afraid of what will happen if they get involved: Do what you're afraid of. Take a chance and you might find that you actually enjoy something you never thought you would. Get involved in a club because you will have fun and make new friends. On the off chance that you don't like it, no one will force you to return. Try new things and find what you like.

I Will Survive

Surviving one's first week of college classes can be a challenge. Thankfully, I survived. I survived my English II class. I survived my difficult Psychology class. I survived my seemingly trivial Music class (but hey, at least it's music). I survived my Sociology class in which I had to talk and actively participate in class. I survived my French class, even if I know it will be a challenge later on. I survived. 

Thinking back to my years of high school, college is a vastly different experience. You cannot expect everything to be handed to you. You have to actively participate and be engaged in order to learn the material. You have to take time outside of class to study for your classes and complete assignments. All of these things and more, including doing your own laundry and finding meals for yourself, are all part of the college experience. Sure, it can be stressful, but it also gives you the option to make a name for yourself, put yourself out there, make friends, try new things, and step out of your comfort zone. 

I can honestly say that I have accomplished most of these things during my first week of college. I did my laundry today. Don't get me wrong, I already know how to do my own laundry, but college washing machines and dryers are different than the ones I'm used to. I even had to use my lofted bed as a makeshift drying rack for some of my clothes I deemed too delicate to put into the dryer in fear of shrinking them. In addition to laundry, I also have to make my own decisions regarding my meals. I have to decide what foods I want to eat at The MAX (the name for GCSU's cafeteria/food court) or if I want to stay in my dorm and eat the college staple of ramen noodles. 

As far as stepping out of my comfort zone and trying new things, I walk everywhere now. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't like going outside, let alone walking everywhere. I'd say that's a big step out of my comfort zone (I apologize for the pun). I've even made plans to go to the gym, and if I find that it is something that I would want to do on a regular basis, I might continue to go. Who knows what will happen? 

I suppose I have also tried somewhat of a new thing in the way I study. I've changed my habits, and I hope they pay off in my grades later on. I used to skate my way through high school with minimal organization and minimal studying. Now, I plan to stay organized and study regularly so that the material is always fresh on my mind. I even bought a planner. I never use planners, yet now I use it all the time. Everything I need is always at hand and I will never miss an assignment. 

I'd say that college has changed me in some ways. It's definitely a change for the better. If I hadn't, I'd probably always be a hot mess with little to no organization. I've even found inspirations to write, something I couldn't ever really find while at home. 

Maybe I just needed a change of scenery to see that writing is something I can't function without. I even accidentally wrote a five page paper in my English II class yesterday when it only needed to be a minimum of 500 words (which I can easily fit on one page). If that's not a good indicator of how much I love to write, I don't know what is. The longer I stay here at GCSU, the more I realize that writing is really something I want to continue to do. Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything else. Writing is where I want to be. 

To get back on track to what this post started off with, college is hard. It's never going to be easy, but anyone can survive it if they put their mind to work and actually put effort into being successful. I can live my life knowing that I survived the first week. With this knowledge, I can confidently say that I will survive the rest of college. I may struggle, no, I will struggle. But with the struggle, I will find inspiration and pursue my passion. With struggle, I will prevail. Besides, who ever said being successful was a smooth path? We must work to make our dreams a reality, otherwise our dreams are simply just dreams. 

A Walk in Thought

Sometimes you just need to get out and walk around. Even if that means alone. Alone is peaceful. Alone gives you time to think, time to explore, and time to find beauty in the smaller things in life.

 I walked around downtown Milledgeville for the second time today simply to get out. I didn't care how hot it was or if I wasn't going to go into one of the many restaurants. All I wanted was to walk. I don't know why I keep wanting to get out and walk around so much, it's so far from everything I am. Anyone who knows me knows that. For some reason I seem to want to walk around. Maybe it's to escape the prison-like walls that are my dorm room. (They're all white with little decoration. I hope to change that soon). Maybe it's to do something different, something I never thought I would do. Maybe it is just because I want to feel the freedom of walking around alone with no one else to worry about but myself. Or maybe it is a subconscious thing in my brain telling me to get up and do something to try and stay somewhat fit. For whatever the reason, I keep going on walks. Surprisingly, I'm okay with that. I like the peaceful aspect of walking alone. Sure it's always nice to walk with a companion, but being alone allows you to think away from everything. It's just you and you alone there to make decisions and find inspiration in the small things that happen during a walk.

On my walk, I passed by several people playing Pokemon Go (yes, I was playing too). I passed by people young and old. I witnessed the hours of the afternoon turn into the orange glow of the evening. I heard the leaves of the trees rustling in the occasional breeze. I heard cars driving down the street in a bustling manner. All of these observations made me think about something. They made me think about the fact that we are all like pieces of a puzzle. Each piece needs the other in order to make one big picture. Everything I witnessed and observed, even me, are all pieces of the puzzle that is Milledgeville. Sure it's a small college town and I've only been here a few days, but some puzzles are three dimensional, sometimes even four, and each part of these multi-dimensional puzzles add another layer of depth to the picture.

The first dimension of the Milledgeville puzzle: The town itself. The roads. The buildings. The businesses. The comic book store that has seen better days.

The second dimension: The leaves rustling in the slight breeze. The cars moving steadily through the street. The sky changing from day to night.

The third dimension: The people. People who have lived here all their lives. People who are young. People who are old. People playing Pokemon Go.

The fourth dimension: Me. I'm new to this puzzle. I'm finding my place. You could even go so far as to say that I am the puzzle piece that you can never quite figure out where it goes or even the extra piece.

All of these pieces rolled into one make Milledgeville what it is. At least, that's what I have observed. It's amazing when you can just separate yourself from the world and just watch everything as it goes by and make note of the little things.

Now, you might be wondering why I described myself as the extra piece. I say that because I stand out. I walk alone when others walk in crowds. I look at the world differently than others. I have different interests. Something about me finds entertainment in the looks I get. I don't know what goes on in people's heads when they think of me, and quite frankly, I don't care. Let people think what they want. I am me and nothing will ever change that. I am me and I like me the way I am. I like my quirks and the things that make me unique.

With that, I leave you with the knowledge that I will probably go on many walks while I attend GCSU. Walks where I can just think and create ideas. Walks where I can find myself and my place in the bigger puzzle.

Venturing Into College Life

As I begin my journey into my freshman year of college, I find myself faced with choices. Do I gorge myself on junk food or try and eat food that won't make me gain the dreaded "Freshman 15?' Do I stay in my dorm guarded from the outside world or do I venture out to new places and see what's out there for me in Milledgeville? Do I head to the gym? (I know, that's a weird thought coming from me). Do I put myself out there and try to shed the shy girl or do I hide behind my insecurities? All of these choices to make and each decision impacts another part of my day. I heard that college is about finding yourself. That it's about putting yourself out there to find your place in the world. That it's one of the greatest times in your life. I think it's about deciding on who you want to be. The part of you that you want the world to see. The part of you that you want to show off. The real, honest you.

My first day at GCSU scared the hell out of me. I was panicking, and when I panic I start to get aggressive. Now with the second day almost over, I find myself not panicking at all. I find myself opening up. I find myself growing as a person. Being away from all that I know, has already made me open up more. I'm no longer the timid girl I was before I got here. When I started high school, it took me years to open up and find myself. Now that I've started college, I opened up on the second day. It didn't take years this time. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm still very wary of new things, but at least I'm opening up a bit more and not being afraid to stand out. 

Being unique is something I cherish. Although sometimes I can be afraid to stand out because of my massive insecurity issues, I still love to be a unique weirdo. I like to have different interests and to find friends who aren't necessarily the "cool kids." I like to show off to the world that the misunderstood, the timid, and the different are people too. To show that we are just as "cool" as the rest of the world. 

While I spend my college life here at GCSU, I hope to accomplish great things as well as put myself out there. I hope to become unafraid to be unique. I hope to find myself in the world that is life away from home. I hope to become me.

A Thing Called Marching Band

As many marching bands have started their band camps recently, I started thinking to myself. This is the first year in five years that I will not be headed off to band camp. No more sweat, knee brace tan lines, and sunburns. No more goofing off with my best friends all while accomplishing great things. No more pouring heart and soul into the music and marching.

I began my marching band journey in South Carolina with the Pickens High School Marching Band. I was given the opportunity to march as an eighth grader in a high school band. My closest friends were given the same opportunity as I was and we grew closer all while making many more friends. Right after my first season of marching band came to a close, my family moved to Georgia. After we moved I thought I would never want to continue marching band because I would miss my friends too much. One good friend that I made after moving convinced me otherwise and I ended up continuing for all of high school at Walnut Grove. I made many friends and these are people who I will love for life.

During both my junior and senior years of high school, I took on leadership positions in the band. I was a section leader and it really opened me up to be both a stronger musician and a better person. It takes a lot of work to be a leader, but I was glad to have had the opportunity to lead and help others on their marching band journeys.

My junior year was probably my favorite for marching. In my opinion, the saxophone section was at its strongest that year and I am glad I could be a part of it. Sure it was only three of us, but we are all great friends and we created a great sound together. That year I will remember always.

Junior Year: Alex(L), Ryan(R), and I.

Now, I am headed off to college soon and will not be marching in a marching band. I never realized how much of an impact it made on my life, but I am glad to have gotten the chance to participate. All of my friends who graduated alongside me can probably agree. I will miss all of them dearly as we go our separate ways to pursue our varying dreams.

Senior Year: We seniors (Alex, Angela, Josh, Harley, Tori, Miranda & I) being our goofy selves.  

Senior Year: Angela(L), Harley(R), and I.

Marching band has been a large part of my life for five years. I found myself in marching band and to be quite honest, I feel like a part of me has been ripped away. My life will never be the same again. I mean that in the sense that I know more about myself than I did before I started marching band. I learned how to open myself up to people and made great friends. I will forever miss marching band and the friendships I have made, but I will forever be a Marching Warrior.

I wish all of my friends who are still marching the best of luck at their future competitions and performances. To those of you seniors, enjoy senior year because it will end faster than you realize. Make the most of it, and may you all have a great season.

In the Wake of Tragedy

As we all know, what happened in Orlando was a tragedy. But, in the wake of tragedy, we as a human race always try to lay blame on something. May it be acts of terrorism, acts of religious beliefs, or acts of hatred. Has anyone ever stopped to think "Maybe it's just an act of violence?" Terrorism is violence. Acting against someone else and using your religion to justify it is violence. Hatred is violence in its most simplest form.

In addition to the three prominent forms of violence we see in today's society, we see the use of guns to implement this violence. The use of guns creates an even bigger and more widespread issue. Do we continue to allow them into the public's possession? Or do we keep them strictly military? I'll admit, my opinion on the matter is somewhere in between the two. Should we allow guns into the public? Yes, but not military grade weapons. There are plenty of guns that aren't military grade that serve as equally well. On keeping them strictly military, I believe that military grade weapons should remain in the military. That is the entire premise of the guns, the fact that they are military grade. The public has no need for something like that.

Now, you're probably wondering what my point to all this is. I want to shed light on the fact that what happened in Orlando was simply an act of violence. Yes, it was an attack on an LGBT+ club. But does it necessarily mean that such a tragedy could strictly happen to people in the LGBT+ community? No. What happened in Orlando could have happened to anyone. Don't get me wrong, I still strongly support loving whomever we choose to love regardless of sexuality. But I wanted to emphasize the fact that an act of violence does not only go out towards one group of people. As human beings, we all have a seed of violence of some form inside us. We just have push past that and not let the violence and hatred consume us.

This is my message to all. Do not hate a group of people based on your beliefs. Do not let hatred consume you and allow violence to take over. Do not create petty arguments based on one opinion versus another. We are all different. We all have different ideas. Can we not just live life the way it is and not argue over who has the correct idea. The fact is, it's only an idea. Ideas don't become anything unless we make it happen. If it's an idea stemmed from violence, what happened in Orlando is likely to happen again. If it's an idea stemmed from love and compassion, then what happened in Orlando should never happen again. The point is, if we let our ideas become reality, then we will always be at war. Are we going to let our friends become enemies based solely on the fact that each of us have different ideas? Because we shouldn't.

I shall end my rant here. I am deeply saddened by what happened in Orlando and my heart goes out to the families of those affected as well as all of the members of the LGBT+ community. Love is love, and may this tragedy never happen again.

A Final Farewell

Driving in the rain to bury a pet. You think to yourself that it's all just a bad dream that you can't wake up from. A death and a rain shower, something rather poetic. No matter how hard you try, you just can't shake the feeling of emptiness. You close your eyes. You shut your feelings away inside you. You laugh and crack jokes to mask the pain. Nothing will ever be the same.

Losing a pet is something no one ever thinks about. No one ever has to think about it until the end is near. Once that fateful day arrives, it doesn't feel real. It feels like part of you has been ripped away. You've lost one of your best friends for life.

Yesterday, my family and I had to say goodbye to our dog, Buddy. We had him for 16 years, which is quite a feat for a small animal. No one could have prepared us for the sadness that affected us all. We all took it differently, and I couldn't even bring myself to tears about it. I locked everything inside my head where only my thoughts could listen. I steered clear of anyone wishing "I'm sorry" or "RIP" or "prayers." I didn't want to hear it. Instead, I smiled and laughed and carried on with life. It made me appear like I couldn't care less about what happened. But in reality, I didn't know what to do with my feelings. Everyone deals with loss differently, but this is me dealing with it.

This is my final farewell to you Buddy. May you rest easy and suffer no more. Thank you for being one of the very best friends I could ever have. Thank you for always knowing when I was feeling down or hurting. Thank you for falling asleep whenever I was home alone leaving me talking to myself. I shall miss you dearly my friend, but I know you are safe and no longer in pain where you are now.