Sunday, August 12, 2012

Chosen


This was an assignment for my Creative Writing class-which I was worried about when I read the description, but when I started working on it I became more and more interested.  I had to write from the perspective of an inanimate object, so here it is for you all to enjoy. 

"Chosen"

I started living on the day you took me into your home.  Before that day, I had only known a life of loneliness and boredom.  I was placed on a shelf next to many eerily similar but very different versions of myself.  The sound of all of us echoed throughout that place, and was terrifying for me when I was first placed on that shelf.  On that shelf I saw thousands of humans pass me by.  There were all types of humans and they all passed me by.  Sometimes they would stop to watch my screen, which is smaller than most of the others on my shelf.  They would stare at me and make comments about how I was low quality or cheaply made.  They would talk about how my picture was not as clear or vivid as the others.  I do not know when, where, or how I was created, but it seems as though I fail in comparison to the other models and versions of myself.  My life as an unwanted, unattractive, and poorly crafted television was certainly less fulfilling than the lives of those in the shows I presented to my audiences. 
I learned much about myself from these humans, and I also learned much about their kind during my time on the shelf.  They come in all sizes, colors, and types.  Some of them even came in groups called “families”.  Most of these families contain some small humans called “kids”.  I always wished that one of these families would choose me and take me away as other televisions were.  For some reason, however, they never chose me.  I felt as if my life had no purpose, and if it did I could not understand what that purpose was.  These feelings eventually became a part of me, and were overwhelming.  I tried to no avail to find a way to convince somebody to choose me, and when I gave up on that I tried to find a way to make my feelings of disappointment fade.  One magnificent day, however, I learned that the reason I could not change these things was because they were not in my power.  You were the only one who could choose me, and you were the only one who could remove the negative feelings I had towards myself.  
            You walked by me many times, and you always hesitated when you reached me.  The fur above your eyes would move and lines would form between them as you looked at my screen.  The piece of paper that hung below me always seemed to grab your attention, although I never learned why.  You would run your fingers along my sides ever so slowly and clean tiny smudges from my screen with your sleeve.  I tried my best to perform well for you and convince you to choose me, but it seems as if I have no control over my performance.  You would visit me every day, but soon I started to lose hope.  I wondered why you kept coming to see me if you were never going to take me away.  Many televisions had been taken away during my time there, and I had never seen a human do what you did.  Usually, a human would walk back and forth near all of us and eventually they would choose.
            My dream of being taken was soon fulfilled, despite my lack of hope.  You came to visit me, as you usually did, but this time you brought another human with you.  The other human seemed to be very fond of you.  You were very close to this human and as you approached me you grabbed its hand and pulled it towards me.  For a while you described me to this human as if they could not see me for themselves.  You talked about a starter home and how I would be the perfect television for what you were looking for.  Soon the other human agreed and my wish was granted.  I was finally taken down from my shelf, placed in a small dark room, and when I was removed from this room my surroundings were foreign.  My new surroundings felt like an actual home.  I was also the only television in this new place, which was scary at first but made me feel somehow important.  This new home was amazing to me, but I had no idea how fantastic my life would become.
            We spend time together almost every night.  The other human who helped you choose me is always here to see me, too.  We share so many special times with each other, just the three of us.  Most of the time, you watch comedies.  The sound of your laughter after the punch lines makes me wish that I could laugh.  On certain nights, you will make our home dark and watch a romantic movie.  On these nights, we all cry together.  I watch as you both kiss each other and I know that I, too, am loved.  We share so much time together, and I could never imagine a better place to live or better company to have. 
            My life was uneventful and bleak, and I had never felt appreciated or loved.  I was convinced that I was undesirable by all of the humans who passed me by only to choose one of my shelf mates.  They said my color was faded, my picture was blurry, and my screen was too small.  Despite all of this, you chose me.  You looked past all of my flaws and you welcomed me into your home.  You devote so much of your time to me, and you never ask for a thing in return.  I had never known where those other televisions went after they were taken away, and I had always been jealous of them.  Now that I have you, I am so thankful that I was never taken away before.  No other home could possibly be as great as ours. 

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Happy 20Teenth Birthday

SOOO I'm twenty. 20. (aka I'm 20teen, because I hate being 20)


I'm not sure why this is so shocking to me. 
Maybe I'm just a weird, abnormal person who over thinks everything.
I have never felt old. 
I woke up on my birthday and felt as if my life (as I knew it) was over. 
I felt ancient. 
All day I kept thinking, "This is it. This is where my life really starts."
Although, nothing changed at all and I'm still the same lame nerd I was at 19. 
It is just a mental dilemma I will have to deal with, I suppose. 


ANYWAY, my life has entered a weird stage.
My birthday basically blew ass (as far as birthday expectations go).


Phil got me Skyrim (AMAZING), my dad (who only contacts me on holidays) gave me a card, my mom got me a heated blanket (because I'm always freezing) and zebra print sheets (I don't think she knows who I am), and my brother, Travis, got me some Canadian Mist (BALLIN). 
My sister, Heidi, called me and sang happy birthday to me right after she had major surgery, which was pretty badass. 


I was very happy with my gifts, but for some reason I felt disappointed. 


For my 18th birthday, all my friends threw me an amazing surprise party and it was epic, and for my 19th birthday I saw Rock of Ages with Phil. (EPIC)
Maybe I just had high expectations-which is unlike me.  


It was just a strange day, overall. 


I didn't have any plans, but I didn't even want to have plans. 
I felt like sitting at home on Imgur and Youtube all day rather than facing the absurd expectations of partying and having an amazing day, and that was fine with me. 


Everybody asked me, "What are you doing for your birthday!?" 
The looks on their faces when I said I was going to sit at home, alone, browse the interweb, play Skyrim, and indulge in some Canadian Mist were incredible.  
They all looked like I had told them, "I'm going to spend my night alone, crying, and wishing I were dead."


People can't seem to grasp how much of a introverted nerd I am, but I guess that is exactly why I am an introverted nerd. 
^INTROVERTED NERD^
I almost felt like I should lie to people and tell them I had some amazing night planned, but whatevs. 


I spent my birthday the same way I spend most nights: In my room alone, laughing out loud at Imgur posts, and watching Youtube videos. 


Oh, AND doing ridiculous amounts of homework before finals week. 
BLAHHHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!


Oh, and if you said happy bday to me on Facebook or Twitter and I didn't reply, its most likely because I felt awkward and didn't know what to say. Thanks, though. 






Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Thievery Vs. Trickery

(If you don't want to read the intro, just skip to the underlined text which is my professor's comment about my skit)




I had to write a skit set for the stage for my online Creative Writing class...I was terrified.  I have always loved writing, but I have never experimented with drama, other than dramatic poetry.  Convinced I would fail the assignment, I started it about two weeks early.  I probably wrote twenty different skits during this time, and I decided that none of them were good enough to turn in.  My frustration had me to the point of considering changing my major.  I was convinced I was not meant to be a writer, and that I would fail at everything that involved writing.  Finally, I decided to sit down and figure out what I would like to read in a dramatic skit.


This process took about two hours, and by the end I was pretty motivated.  I began writing and after another few hours I was satisfied with my final product.  I realized after I had finished that there was a 1000 word limit, which meant that I had to cut about 2/3 of the skit.  Lame.  After making a few people read it and give me their honest opinions, I turned in my work.  During the waiting period between turning in and receiving a grade, my confidence wore thin.  I reread my skit too many times to count and began picking at it and finding flaws in my work, and I was sure that I would fail.


The next day, I checked to see if it had been graded as soon as I woke up.  I was surprised to see that I had received a perfect grade.  One-hundred percent on my first skit?  Not too bad.  I then noticed that my professor had sent a copy back to me with comments.


Here is my final copy, graded, comments included, for you to read and share your thoughts on.  Let me know what you think, and if there is anything you would have added, left out, or changed please share!  Also, if you have any advice or tips for writing dramas, definitely share.  (The underlined text at the top is from my professor)


______________________________________


This is FANTASTIC! I love what you did with it – the format, the very real sounding dialogue, the twist in the plot and characters. This is one of the best dramas that a student has turned in for this class, and I’ve been teaching this class for seven or eight years. I loved the haiku as well. I actually read that first and thought it was a little weird, but then I went back and read the drama first and it made a whole lot more senseJ Great work.

Thievery VS. Trickery

Setting- The stage is dark, other than the lights coming from a large, Victorian style home.  The area surrounding the house is heavily wooded, which shows how the house is secluded. 
Out of the darkness comes a man dressed in dark clothing. He is crouched and slowly sneaking closer to the home.  As he approaches the front door, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a crowbar.  As he lifts the crowbar to the door, the door flies open revealing a small, elderly woman.  The man hesitates for a moment, shocked, as the woman grabs his arm and pulls him inside, shutting the door behind him.  The man drops his crowbar, and puts his hands up to show he does not have a weapon.

The man: I’m so sorry, Ma’am.  If you just let me leave, I swear I will never come back.  Please, Ma’am.

*The woman grabs the man’s hands tightly as a look of pure joy spreads across her face*

The woman:  Oh, Francis!  I knew you would come back as soon as this idiotic war ended!  Everybody told me that you were dead.  Oh, the nerve of them.  Even Carolyn from church would say, “Dear, poor, Judith.  Your husband is not in Vietnam.  He died nearly twenty years ago.”  Oh, how silly they will all look, now!  Please, Francis, sit and I will brew you a cup of tea and bring you a slice of your favorite pie! 

*The man pulls his hands away and the woman goes into the kitchen and begins preparing the tea and pie*

The man: I am going to leave, Ma’am.  I told you I will never come back!  I thought this house was empty and I would have never…I would have never if I had known.

*Judith’s eyes begin to fill with tears and her words and movements drip with desperation*

Judith: No, Francis!  You cannot leave!  I have been waiting here for years, and now that you have finally returned I will never let you go again!  Now sit down and enjoy your pie.  Oh, how long I have waited to serve you this pie, Francis! 

*The man becomes angry as the woman seems not to understand what he is telling her*

The man: Ma’am, I’m not supposed to be here, ya know?  I’m a thief!  I steal things!  That’s what I was planning on doing here, tonight!  I thought this house was abandoned!  So, please, just let me leave and for God’s sakes stop calling me Francis!  I’m not your dead husband, you pathetic, sad sack!  I’m Rob!

Judith:  You act like I belong in a mental ward!  You think I don’t know that you aren’t my dead husband?  Do you think I am as crazy as everybody else thinks I am?  Well, I’m not!  I have been alone in this mansion with nobody to talk to since my husband went to war, and now you are here.  You are not my dead husband, because my husband is not dead!  You are alive and well, Francis.  You are the love of my life, my soul mate, who has finally returned to free me from my misery and loneliness.  I finally feel whole again, Francis, now that you have come back to me.

*Rob begins slowly walking to the door*

Rob:  Listen, lady.  This whole deal is really freaking me out, ya know?  I’m sorry your life sucks with your husband being dead, and all, but this isn’t really my problem.  I’m going to leave now, alright?  Don’t freak out and call the cops, please.  Okay?  Judith, was it?  You won’t call the cops, right Judith?  I will just go back home and we will forget this ever happened, alright?

Judith:  Stop it, Francis!  Please, just stop it! I have waited too damn long to let you walk out of my life again!  You are my husband and I am your wife and we have to be with each other!  That is how these things are supposed to work, dear!  You can’t leave me again, Francis.  I won’t let you!

*Judith’s eyes fill with tears, and her whole body begins to shake with anger.  She grabs her large, beige handbag and reaches inside, pulling out a small handgun*

Rob:  Oh, come on!  You’re not going to shoot me…I mean…You’re not going to shoot your husband, are you?  What kind of wife would kill her  own husband, especially when he has just come back after being at war for so long!? 

*Judith raises the handgun and aims at Rob*

Rob:  Please, Judith!  I love you, babe!  How could you even think about killing me, your long lost husband?  I’ll eat the pie!  I’ll drink the tea!  Just sit down, lady!  I mean, dear!  I will stay here with you forever and never leave again!  Just put down the damn gun, Judith, before I call the cops and have you arrested!

*Judith gives Rob a puzzled look, and throws the handgun onto the floor.  She begins laughing hysterically*

Judith:  Call the cops!?  YOU are going to call the cops on ME?  You think the police will show pity for a worthless thief?  You think they will believe you, a low class, scum of the earth criminal, over me?  I am a pathetic, sad sack, Rob!  Remember?  That is what you called me, isn’t it?

*Rob stares at Judith intently, his mouth hanging open, trying to understand her words*

Rob:  Wh…what?  So, wait.  Are you?  I mean…who do you think I am? 

*Judith laughs, walks up to Rob, and picks up his crowbar which was lying at his feet

Judith:  You deserve prison for what took place here tonight!  Me, on the other hand, well I think I deserve an Oscar!  I think you are Rob, a name that is quite fitting for your lifestyle.  You are a worthless thief.  You are a wasted mind and body who will never amount to anything.  Most of all, you are no longer welcome in my home.  Now get the hell out of here, you pathetic, sad sack!

*Judith roughly shoves the crowbar into Rob’s chest and begins pushing him towards the door.  
Rob stumbles into the closed door, and clumsily grabs the door knob, all the while never taking his eyes off of Judith.  When he is out the door, Judith slams it in his face.  As Rob stands outside the door, baffled, muffled laughter can be heard from Judith*

Judith:  Damn, stupid kids!

Rob:  Crazy, old hag!

 The scene ends with both characters standing on opposite sides of the door.  Judith has her hands on her hips and is smiling in triumph.  Rob is clutching his head, breathing heavily, wide-eyed and shocked.



 (We also had to include a haiku for this assignment, so here is mine)

Haiku
Try to rob her house
She will teach you a lesson
Pathetic, sad sack! Awesome!

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

like Casper, just not as friendly.

On Tuesdays I have Sociology from 6pm to 8:50pm. 


This class is usually 2.5 hours of my professor talking about random things unrelated to the class. 

The other 20 minutes is taken up by a quiz...which is the only meaningful part of this class, apart from tests. 

Today, we had a test.  A test in this class consists of 5 essay questions blah blah blah. 

ANYWAY.  Before the test, my professor let us go on a 10 minute break. 

I used this break to go outside to the "smoking area" and slowly kill myself with menthol cigarettes. 

To get to the point of this rant, when I was on break this guy said, "Look at that girl. Is she Casper?  She's so pale she looks just like him."
..........
Let me just say that this man is a typical Indiana "hick". 

He was wearing a Nascar hat, and he talks with a fake Indiana country accent. 

He looks to be in his late twenties, and is what I like to call a fake college student. 

One of those, "Oooh! If I go to college I can get FAFSA money to blow on shot guns and chewing tobacco!? RIGHT ON!"

The second, and most aggravating, part of this rant is that he was talking to a girl....
He made this immature, shitty, lame attempt at a burn comment to a girl. 

This wouldn't matter...BUT, this girl happens to be one of my long term rivals. 

Started in high school, don't feel like going into details, but I would terminate her if I had the chance to. 

Of course, I have passed up my days of beating the shit out of anybody who pisses me off. 

I wish I was still in those days, because I would have loved to rip out this poor excuse for a man's throat...

However, instead of using immature violence (lolz) I decided to use my words. 

I looked into his one good eye, and said, "Look at this guy. Is he Larry The Cable Guy? He's so idiotic he is just like him. 

To this he reacted by scoffing and turning back to his friend...(the girl I hate with a passion)

They stood silently and I laughed a victorious laugh. 

I waited a few seconds and walked back inside. 

At first I felt victorious, like I would have felt a few years ago after demeaning some enemy I had. 

After awhile, though, I began to think like an adult. (sound that out like "ahh dult" not "adult")

I thought about how immature he was, and how sad it was that he had to insult me to feel better about himself.

I thought, "Maybe he had a rough child hood....or maybe he was insecure and needed a pick me up."

I felt bad for this man, and I continued to think about him even after I left class.

I thought about he would probably not amount to much. 

I thought about his kids having to deal with him and being embarrassed of him throughout their teen years. 

What about his poor wife?

How would she explain her reasons for being with him to her parents?

Oh, dear. 
Poor, sir. 

I have pictured your life and the many ways it could turn out, and I have no positive news for you.
You will forever and always be a Nascar hat wearing, insecure, rude, and overall depressing person. 

However, I do not feel sorry for you!

I feel sorry for people who have negative encounters with you and have to go through the mental turmoil that your comment forced me to go through. 

I am pale, and I do not mind. 

In my opinion, I have pretty nice skin (as light as it may be).

I would much rather be my pale self than a spray tanned, fake version of a human being. 

That is all. 

Versus