On Writing

Well, after some deliberation, I've decided to start updating this blog again! Be excited!

It is interesting looking back at some of my old posts and realizing just how much I have changed in the last few years... I think this will be an interesting experiment. At the very least, it will get me to write more.

It is funny that being in three English classes this semester isn't making me sick of writing. On the contrary, I want to write more! More stories, more of my journal, and, this blog.

I've been thinking about writing, and what it is that compels me to do it. Why do I have this desire for other people to read and experience, in some way, what is going on in my mind? It's like this drive to prove that I can, in fact, think and create something that other people might enjoy, too.

Since I got home from my mission, I've shied away from writing. I think I've been afraid of mediocrity, afraid of failure, afraid that I'm no good at writing, after all. But that is simply ridiculous, and, as Stonewall Jackson said, "Don't take counsel from your fears." Okay, Stonewall, I won't.

Speaking of fear, this abstract concept has been on my mind lately, because of an essay that I'm working on for my creative writing class, exploring the fears from my childhood. I'm including the first paragraph for your perusal!
       
           "From the darkness in my room, I looked over at my teddy bear, his glassy, blank eyes staring at me. I imagined him, as soon as I fell asleep, slowly creeping from his chair and across the room to my bed. He would deftly climb up and stare down into my face, and then reach his furry paws to my neck. I would try to scream, but by then it was too late. Helplessly struggling against him, I would choke until I breathed my last breath. After his plot was carried out, he would creep back to his chair, and my parents would be never know how I came to my fate. The teddy bear didn’t look threatening, but that was just a clever ploy. I never knew how he managed to sit, so still and lifeless, all the while plotting my demise and waiting for nightfall. He was a Christmas gift, and during daylight hours, I would play with him to keep up appearances that I was thrilled with my new “friend.” But I wasn’t thrilled. I was terrified."

I may not be afraid of my teddy bear anymore, but I still have plenty of fears that I'm trying to conquer, some of which are about as irrational as fearing my teddy bear. 

Super.

Do you ever have one of those days where you just want to say "super" in a sarcastic way to everything that happens to you?

The vending machine is out of your favorite. Super.
You realize you have nothing clean to wear. Super.
(Does anyone else out there ever want to just go buy new clothes instead of doing laundry?)
You have to do inventory at work and count spatulas for eight hours. SUPER.

On that vein, deciding to quit caffiene during inventory was such a bad plan. And by quitting, I mean not having it for a couple days, then breaking down and having some. And so on. It is like an epic battle between me and the Doctor. (Dr. Pepper.)

Speaking of which, I didn't have any today... so that means I can have some tomorrow, right? Right?? No? ....... Super.

Spelling

Despite the fact that I am an English major, there are a few words that I never remember to spell correctly. My hope is that after openly aknowledging this on my blog, my problem will be cured.

One of them is awkward. I always want to spell it "akward." It is one of those words where neither one looks right to me.

Another word I always misspell is professor. I always put two f's in it. Why?!

Sugar-coma

Is it possible to get diabetes from just looking at pictures of desserts?

I've recently discovered the fabulous Bakerella (www.bakerella.com) and am quite enjoying looking at her mouth-watering recipes. (With plenty of pictures, of course.)

I love baking, and I can't wait to try some of these recipes...

Like these S'More's cupcakes
And this peanut butter cup fudge cake
Or this cream cheese pound cake

I probably shouldn't make them all in the same week, even though I want to. Heck, I want to go bake them all right now! And then eat them. All. Right now.

But.... I probably shouldn't......

Patented Day-After-Haircut Regret

Well, I got my hair cut yesterday. Finally. It had been like, a year. I have a fear of getting my hair cut.

I never, ever like it. Ever.

Yesterday, after the stylist, a perky spiky-haired girl with tattoos, was finished, I was amazed. I actually liked it! Or so I thought.

When I woke up this morning, there it was. My Patented Day-After-Haircut Regret. There is no cure. Well, except time. It will grow back. And usually after a few days I feel okay. I get used to it, I guess.

I wonder if this is revealing deeper aspects of my personality, like a fear or dislike of change, or maybe just a fear of hairstylists.

This particular haircut must not be that different, because nobody really noticed at work. Greaaat.

Something to think about

I realized something today. Something that I probably should have realized a long time ago.

In looking at the world from the perspective of a "writer," I tend to view my surroundings, and often the people around me, with the slant of a cynic. (Sometimes a very biting one at that.)

Why can't I just see the good in people? I want to. I'm going to make an effort to look for the great smiles and the caring hearts and the intellegence and all of the great things about people. I always hope that people notice the good things about me, and I guess I owe them the same courtesy.

The hard thing about this, is that I don't have a problem seeing the many virtues of those whom I like, but I have a difficult time realizing the merit in those whom I do not like.

Why is it that the negative movie reviews are so much more entertaining than the positive ones? Not only that, but I feel that we all have a tendency to believe the bad comments more than the good ones. And it is the bad ones that stick with you forever, and grate on you like a cheese grater!

Maybe all of my biting comments should be restricted to my creative writing, and not my everyday life. I have a feeling that this will be a habit that is hard to break, but one that is definitely worth breaking.

Irregular...

I am a horrible do-what-I-say-I'm-gonna-do person. Okay, not all the time. I'm usually a reliable person. But apparently I cannot keep up with this blog! I keep saying yadda yadda, I'm gonna write everyday, and all I'm really saying, apparently, is that I will faithfully write for a few days, then get so busy that I don't write for weeks.

Hmm.

Good thing this blog isn't my boyfriend, or he probably would have dumped me.

To make up for being so remiss, I will share an amazing discovery. It is called http://www.dailypuppy.com/. It shows new pictures of puppies every day!! Trust, me. Happiness is just a click away.