Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Creative Writing Homework 04.06.10

Homework assignment - our character experiences an epiphany that alters his/her life. This didn't turn out how it was supposed to...

I've been writing my homework for three days. It's not coming. Well, that's a half-truth ~ words for my homework are not coming. Words for what's rolling in my mind are coming fast and furious. It's this damn clutter! Clutter, mess, compulsive hoarding, piles, piles, piles, mess. I've stopped making progress. I was content to sit back and accept what I had accomplished and call it done. I was content to test myself, ensure I could maintain, not undo what I had done. "I'll just lay this sweater here. I'll hang it up later/tomorrow/this weekend." That sweater was covered by this shirt and that scarf and this jacket and this sweater and these magazines and this jacket I wore because that other jacket is is somewhere in this pile. OK, hang it up. Okay - moving forward. Aw crap! Now it's wrinkled! I have to iron it/take it to the cleaners. There's a pile for that over here but it's too high, so I'll leave it in this pile so the clothes don't fall and create a mess. All the clothes are wrinkled so I'll just leave them where they are. And that's what I do. That's how I think. Twisted, right? Yeah, it is. You can say it. And, as I clear out my living space, I've noticed the weight gain. Losing protection in one area, transferring ti to another. I started to tell myself that it's focus - focus on my apartment now, focus on me later. Then I realized what I'm doing - the protection thing. The overeating is causing some minor health issues that scare the fuck outta me. Yet, I continue to overeat. Most of the time, I stop myself. But the emotions need to be quelled and food is what does it. Sadly, I can't have the final Creative Writing class at my place. I wish I could see it as a goal instead of feeling it as pressure. Then Mom called upset that I won't let her help me. She doesn't understand why I will allow my friends to help but not my own mother. Shame humiliation embarrassment. That's why she can't help.

So, tell me about yourself...In-Class writing 04.06.10

~ We have 12 minutes to write these assignments ~

Imagine sitting across from someone you admire and he/she says "So, tell me about yourself..."


I am witty and silly.
I'm a sushi addict, a beer drinker and lover of wine.
I only laugh when something is *very* funny; otherwise, it's a courtesy smile and a "Oh, that's funny."
I love Vegas, Hawaii and Wayfarer's Chapel in Rancho Palos Verdes.
The ceremony of 'high tea' is one of my favorite things.
I love love love music! Johnny Mathis to Jonny Lang to Johnny Rotten.
80s hair bands still excite me.
I know all the words to all songs 80s.
I love the story songs of the 70s, like 'The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia' and all Jim Croce songs.
'At Seventeen' by Janis Ian makes me cry. Every. Single. Time.
"You love your loving; not like you love your freedom" hits me every time.
My go-to karaoke song is 'Rapper's Delight'
I'm gregarious and social, but only since the age of 30 when I was sorta forced to be/do so.
I'm a creature of habit who pushes herself to do new things.
I am a can't-get-me-off-the-dance-floor dancer! And if 'Dancing Queen' comes on, I am dancing!
I am the daughter of an opera singer and jazz piano player.
I'm a self-taught player of the stereo.
Like a Taurus, I am stubborn and patient.
I am slow to anger (unless I am driving - serious road rager, here) and have to walk away for fear of saying something very mean, hurtful.
I hold onto friends and grudges.
I trust easily.
I crush easily.
I like crushing.
I love loving.
I'm all of this and whole lot more.