I was inspired by the fact that both of my roommates are in a poetry class.

For right now, I'm calling it "Reverie".

Around 1997, I hop out of the car and stand in the snow, unable to comprehend how I can still be cold when I am wrapped in my favorite blanket. I decide I don’t like Virginia.

Around 2003, my mother tells me all about the daughter that she wanted. For some reason, she got me instead.

Around 2006, I argue with another student in Criminal Justice 101 and win. I wonder if this is what high school would be like. My professor doesn’t believe me when I tell her that I’m sixteen.

Around 2003, I fall into the lake. I say my uncle pushes me. He says I trip. Later, I wrap myself in a fluffy towel and we eat ice cream side by side.

Around 1996, my teacher throws a chair at the door. He tells the principal that he tripped. After that, my mother decides that she will be my teacher.

Around 2008, I listen to a girl list her extracurricular activities and accomplishments when we introduce ourselves to Honors Forum and wonder why they thought I should be in the same program as her. We run into each other later and end up talking. For some reason, she likes me.

Around 1995, my father puts on an ugly hat and picks up a suitcase. He says that nothing will change. I don’t realize for a long time that he’s lying.

Around 2001, my grandfather kills himself. My mother asks me if I’m happy now.

Around 2005, I write a note apologizing for everything I can think of… but then I hide it so no one will see. I never find it again.

Around 2007, they tell me that if I only watch a game, I will like it. I watch a game and lose my fall Saturdays forever.

Around 2010, I spill tears and words to a girl I don’t yet realize I’m starting to love, expecting her to turn away in disgust. She gives me a hug, and I start to realize.

Around 1998, my mother keeps me awake for 24 hours, cleaning the house. This is the first time, but nowhere near the last. Sometimes, we are cleaning. Other times we are doing homework. Sometimes, it’s just because she can.

Around 2009, I tell my friends a story about my mother stabbing me in the leg with a pencil while trying to teach me algebra. I play it up for laughs, but get only open-mouthed stares in return. I think that I’m not as funny as I thought I was.

Around 2011, I kiss a girl. For some reason, she doesn’t mind.

Dear restaurant patron,

If I ask the chef if we can grill calamari and he says 'no' because grilling the calamari will make it taste bad (and would also be next to impossible since the calamari is sliced into centimeter wide rings), don't tell me that you "had it done that way somewhere else". We are not somewhere else and telling us what is clearly a lie in an attempt to have the dish cooked the way you want it makes you an asshole.

Furthermore, if you finish your meal at 10:15 and ask when the restaurant closes and your server tells you 10, leave. Do not stay until 10:45. You are finished with your meal. The restaurant is closed. Your server has work that s/he needs to do that s/he cannot do while you are still at his/her table.

And finally, if you are going to stay until 10:45, tip your server. You have kept him/her at work for an extra hour, time during which s/he is making $2.13 minus taxes--that is, not nearly enough to make it worth standing around waiting to do extra work while you chat. Go chat somewhere that is open after 10, there are plenty of places.

How would you like it if your server came to your place of work and loitered around and made it so that you couldn't go home at the end of your workday and you weren't getting any compensation for it?

Sincerely,
Your friendly neighborhood restaurant worker.

It's different to grow up not-poor and then suddenly become poor. There's this feeling of indignation, of thinking, "I'm better than this." But you're not. No one is. Some people are just luckier than others and stay that way.

I woke up this morning when Erin took the dog out and was hit with a sudden need to write. Which is good, except now I'm awake, the creative spurt is done, and I don't think I'll be able to go back to sleep.

Also, it's actually really easy to write a sex scene that leaves the gender/sex of one character ambiguous if you're writing in first person. Of course, I'll need someone to read it and tell me if it's as ambiguous as I think it is, but I think I managed to make the ambiguity subtle enough.

Also also, I've obviously been writing too much. I just automatically started moving my cursor to the top of my screen to hit the save button before I realized that this is an LJ post. :D

Edited my short story, "Only Ordinary" and also changed the title to "The Dreaming Spring" which seems more fitting for the novella I want to write. Also also, I added another 1,600 words. I seem to be a bit of a "sprinter" writer where I can vomit forth a good deal of work when lightning strikes, but can't keep it up for the long haul. Still, the tale of Sam and Leslie is one of the longer-running stories that I've got in my mind (although not quite as long-running as some of the stories I wanted to write for my RPG characters...) and I'd like to finish someday soon. It appears that it will end up being shorter than I imagined given that I'm sitting at only 4,400 words right now and that's two complete scenes and about half of a third. Thank God I'm writing this non-linearly because I think if I tried to be linear I'd crap out. It's much easier to write each scene as it comes to me. Maybe I'll have enough time this summer to actually get most of this story out.

Then again, if I continue doing what I did last night where I go back over what I've already written and polish it a bit more and then keep adding another 1,500-1,600 words on a regular basis, it might not be so bad. I'm horrible at editing though and tend to end up not doing it. Generally, what I write on the first go round is what ends up being the final draft.

It's funny. After spending so long thinking I'd tapped my muse dry, I have two sad, flashback-heavy love stories tangling for attention. Sam and Leslie get first billing, though.

I think, part of why I drag my writing out so much, particularly on the things I want to be longer, is this sense of self-doubt, that I'm not a good enough writer to take these characters where I want them to go. It's this hard to shake feeling that I'm simply not good enough--with grammar, with dialogue, with prose, I'm not old enough, experienced enough, talented enough to write a story with as much character growth and depth as I would like to. Which my be true, but I'll never know if I don't try, right?

Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes. Why? Because any study that isn't run with an agenda will show you that A) kids have sex whether they learn about it or not, and B) kids who take sex ed classes are much less likely to get pregnant or contract STIs. More than that, sex education done properly teaches kids to respect their and their partners' bodies, boundaries, and sexuality. If you don't teach sex ed in schools, kids will try to get their education somewhere else--TV, movies, books, porn--places where there's so much more misinformation than information. The idea of porn as a teaching tool is especially terrifying given the messages that porn sends (all men are ready for sex at a moment's notice, women are slutty, etc).

But it all goes back to my first point--just because you don't want your kid thinking about sex doesn't mean they aren't going to. Your kids are going to have sex before they're married. Abstinence-only kids actually get pregnant out of wedlock more than kids with any other kind of sex ed. If they're going to have sex anyway, you should make damn sure that they know the risks, the consequences, and how to protect themselves.

I'm undecided as to whether or not I think this even has promise. Oh, well.

( Only Ordinary )

Yes, actually, which will be a first since I was... 13 or 14. I've decided to be the Phantom of the Opera, even though I'm not a particular fan. It was just easy to do and relatively cheap. I'm going to be wearing black jeans, a white button-up, my peacoat, and a mask. I'm actually kind of excited.

Day 23- Something you crave a lot. Things. All kinds of things. Clothes, electronics, what have you.

( The list )

Day 21- A picture of something that makes you happy. Freaking... pictures... so many...


Day 22- What makes you different from everyone else. Um... I dunno... I doubt that there is any one thing that makes me different from "everyone" else. I'm a goofy queer Asian kid raised in the South who likes making bad jokes and watching football.

I'm not entirely sure I'm still liking this meme.

( The list )