well, well, well. (three holes in the ground)
This is my first post that will be purely writing, if all goes according to plan. I've already flaunted my literary tattoos in the appropriate community, couldn't help it since i love them so much.
I'm not much to talk about, really. Aspiring writer stuck with a wretched case of writer's block halfway through my first novel. It's off-putting to say the least. Canadian, eh - and from good old Northern Ontario, where you have to shovel the snow away from your car door just to get the damn thing open. Unerringly awkward in social situations unless I've had a couple drinks - just what does that say about my character, I wonder? I'm a year out of high school, in college, which i hate. I was in a social work programme last semester and decided it was too intense for me, so i switched to general arts - BIG MISTAKE. I don't know anyone, and i've been in pretty rough shape emotionally lately, so this new semester, even though its barely two weeks in, is doing a number on me. I didn't realize how much i took for granted in my old programme; encouraging, kind, warm profs, people i knew and didn't have a hard time talking to. It's exceedingly difficult. I saw my favourite prof in the world the other day, waiting for my friend to leave her class. Laurel (my prof) took one look at me and whisked me away to her office, where I promptly spilled all my problems and had a good cry while she gave me a hug. She's more supportive than my own mother sometimes. Speaking of my mother, she thinks i need medication and has summarily made a doctor's appointment for me, behind my back, and has told our doctor that she thinks i'm manic-depressive and need to be doped up. I don't deny that i probably need meds, but i know i'm not manic-depressive, my symptoms are all wrong for that. I'm clinically depressed; i know it, my doctor knows it, and the pharmacy knows it. My mum doesn't remember, but i was on anti-anxiety and anti-depressants when i was still in middle school. She thinks that because i made it through the first semester of college, that this is something else, hence her diagnosis. She didn't appreciate me asking where her medical degree was, but i digress.
I'm hopefully going to university for teaching in september, and i have a feeling it will agree with me. Or so i hope. In all honesty, i'd love to be able to make a living off writing, but i don't see that as being anywhere approaching realistic. If i could open my own little store or restaurant, that would be a dream, too. I work in a convenience store now, and i absolutely adore it, apart from the atrocious manager who just so happens to hate my guts. Honestly, it's not my fault her brother hit on me and i shot him down. He told me he was only flirting with my because i had "big boobies". Such a charmer, that one.
But yeah, my life is perfectly average and boring for the most part. I read and write to escape from how terribly mundane and lonely it is. Sometimes i watch tv, although rarely on an actual television. I'm a Potterhead and i will be til the day i die, but i appreciate just about anything as far as books go. I'm a nut for history and languages. I hope to one day be able to speak arabic. I'm ordinary and a dreamer - that about sums me up.
Well, i'll wrap this up. I really ought to be writing a paper that's due for tomorrow - it's about mood-altering drugs, how ironic and terrifically dull. Seeing as it's ten til one, and i have class at 830 tomorrow morning, i really ought to get a move on.
kill me now?
smell ya later,
meghan
I'm not much to talk about, really. Aspiring writer stuck with a wretched case of writer's block halfway through my first novel. It's off-putting to say the least. Canadian, eh - and from good old Northern Ontario, where you have to shovel the snow away from your car door just to get the damn thing open. Unerringly awkward in social situations unless I've had a couple drinks - just what does that say about my character, I wonder? I'm a year out of high school, in college, which i hate. I was in a social work programme last semester and decided it was too intense for me, so i switched to general arts - BIG MISTAKE. I don't know anyone, and i've been in pretty rough shape emotionally lately, so this new semester, even though its barely two weeks in, is doing a number on me. I didn't realize how much i took for granted in my old programme; encouraging, kind, warm profs, people i knew and didn't have a hard time talking to. It's exceedingly difficult. I saw my favourite prof in the world the other day, waiting for my friend to leave her class. Laurel (my prof) took one look at me and whisked me away to her office, where I promptly spilled all my problems and had a good cry while she gave me a hug. She's more supportive than my own mother sometimes. Speaking of my mother, she thinks i need medication and has summarily made a doctor's appointment for me, behind my back, and has told our doctor that she thinks i'm manic-depressive and need to be doped up. I don't deny that i probably need meds, but i know i'm not manic-depressive, my symptoms are all wrong for that. I'm clinically depressed; i know it, my doctor knows it, and the pharmacy knows it. My mum doesn't remember, but i was on anti-anxiety and anti-depressants when i was still in middle school. She thinks that because i made it through the first semester of college, that this is something else, hence her diagnosis. She didn't appreciate me asking where her medical degree was, but i digress.
I'm hopefully going to university for teaching in september, and i have a feeling it will agree with me. Or so i hope. In all honesty, i'd love to be able to make a living off writing, but i don't see that as being anywhere approaching realistic. If i could open my own little store or restaurant, that would be a dream, too. I work in a convenience store now, and i absolutely adore it, apart from the atrocious manager who just so happens to hate my guts. Honestly, it's not my fault her brother hit on me and i shot him down. He told me he was only flirting with my because i had "big boobies". Such a charmer, that one.
But yeah, my life is perfectly average and boring for the most part. I read and write to escape from how terribly mundane and lonely it is. Sometimes i watch tv, although rarely on an actual television. I'm a Potterhead and i will be til the day i die, but i appreciate just about anything as far as books go. I'm a nut for history and languages. I hope to one day be able to speak arabic. I'm ordinary and a dreamer - that about sums me up.
Well, i'll wrap this up. I really ought to be writing a paper that's due for tomorrow - it's about mood-altering drugs, how ironic and terrifically dull. Seeing as it's ten til one, and i have class at 830 tomorrow morning, i really ought to get a move on.
kill me now?
smell ya later,
meghan