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The Buried Life

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I majored in English in college because I wanted to become a writer, and even though I haven't had much time since then to really sit down and do it, I'd like to jump back on the wagon. When I was taking creative writing courses and consistently talking with friends and classmates about what we were writing, I wrote prolifically; it was almost like I couldn't stop myself from picking up a pen and scribbling something down. Now that I'm working and no longer in school, I find it very difficult to motivate myself. I get excited about the idea of writing, but whenever I sit down and flip through a book of ideas or open up to a blank page, it's like I suddenly can't think of anything to write about, or all the ideas in my book are boring and have been done before. I feel so defeated whenever I do this, and I want to bring the fun and passion back into writing for myself. I have been looking around at local bookstores for writing groups, but have not been successful in finding any, or if I have, they are not held at times convenient to my schedule.

In short, I would like to start writing again and finish that novel I've been working on since I was ten. I miss the feeling of reading others' works and sharing my opinion on them, and of creating a new work or exercise and hearing what others have to say about it. It's a wonderful feeling to look up at a computer screen and see pages of something you've created, and then to go back and read over and know that this piece of art came out of your brain. I am an editor at heart, but I find it difficult to produce something to actually edit without encouragement and support; I hope to find both here.

Thank you for considering me as a potential member for your group; I hope that I can become a regular contributor and grow both as a writer and as a person.

@};-
Current Location:
Home
Current Mood:
hopeful hopeful
Current Music:
My printer
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Bah the depressing entries; bah bah BAH!

*kills the damn black sheep before it can fill its flea-infested bag with the god damned wool*

~~~

More packing today.  To save Mom the time (and to get out of packing things that I have no idea where to place and that don't belong to me), I offered to fix dinner.  Boneless skinless chicken breasts in tomato - basil spaghetti sauce over pasta with Italian - style salad, Sister Schubert rolls, and white Merlot.  Scrumptious!  Though there's something missing in the sauce; it has taste, but it doesn't taste.  The pasta is always very bland and the chicken...not overdone, exactly, nor overspiced, but it feels...incomplete, or wrong.  Maybe some plain sauce with oregano and perhaps rosemary, though I could be wrong, and garlic, ho yes, lots and lots of garlic...

~~~

I are confoosed about where I'm supposed to be packing things.  I acted as errand girl this afternoon, something I'm good at, and I packed what Mom told me to, which helps.  But she'll be out of commission Wednesday due to the surgery on her tooth, so we called one of the packing people to come over tomorrow and assist us.  I just wish I knew what to do so I could do some on my own and save them some trouble.  We wrapped pictures today, including those of myself scattered around the house, some of which I'm surprised my parents have kept all these years.  I took my senior picture down from the wall, the one where I have bent my intense, halfway murderous gaze upon the photographer as though I would love nothing more than to smite him where he stands (this is just the bust shot; the full-body where I'm dressed up and leaning on a chair looks like I want to hurl it at some poor, random passerby and dance upon the ashes of a car...wait, what?).  I looked at my father and said,

"I can't believe I was so damn serious!"

Mom and Dad looked up.

"Yeah, well," Dad replied, "you used to have a toy lawnmower that you would push behind me just as serious as you could be, and that was just playing.  Even make-believe and play were serious to you; you were always serious."

Mom just blinked at me.

"You always have been."

Hrm.

~~~

A Buddhist walks up to a hotdog vendor and says, "Make me one with everything."

Back to reading old journals and digesting; w007.

And yes, Jon; "freer" is indeed a funny word.  As is "tiramisu."

@};-

Current Mood:
anxious anxious
Current Music:
"Irish Jig" from "Final Fantasy VIII"
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BACK ONLINE IN WAYNESVILLE, WHOO BOY!!!

*doobie dance*

More online later; now I have to go wait for the Stanley Steamer people to clean the carpets.  And scrub cabinets with Mom.  And...stuff.  Bah.

~~~

I will have more to say later *wistful glance*

@};-

Current Mood:
touched touched
Current Music:
Cabinets banging and birds singing
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OFF TO WAYNESVILLE!!!

Hooray!

MOUNTAINS AND CLEAN AIR!!!

Hooray!

NO INTERNET ACCESS FOR AT LEAST THREE DAYS!!!

Hoora--------

.........

*bang*

Check you guys later.

@};-

Current Mood:
amused amused
Current Music:
Mom mumbling directions
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Leaving for Waynesville tomorrow with no Internet access, so I shall be incommunicado for a time. It seems to be storming outside and the fucking computer seems to want to bleep my pages every time I try to write something...and I have to run to dinner with some family friends. So adios, everybody; may your semi-chocolate morsels always taste sweet!

@};-

Current Mood:
annoyed annoyed
Current Music:
Berf yelling something about Transformers
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Yes Mark, you were right: my CD player is indeed jogproof.

POS.

Bah.

~~~

Rented "Unlimited Saga" for a change of pace, but I can't figure the damn thing out. D&D-like play, but no attack system like I've ever seen. When my characters have 0 HP three hits into the battle and are still fighting, even after receiving a total of over 300 points apiece...my brain threatens to leak from my ears. Help?

~~~

Viagra for women makes me laugh.

Heh.

@};-

Current Mood:
awake ...heeeee...
Current Music:
A Craftsman commercial (wtf?)
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This is just...you guys have to read this.  Even though this person listens to Christina Aguilera and has absolutely nothing worthwhile to say to anyone over the age of thirteen...anyone who actually takes the time to write this shit down is just the fucking shiz.

For your entertaining pleasure.Collapse )

@};-

Current Mood:
crazy crazy
Current Music:
IM beeps from Kathmandu!
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Pat and Kelly and Jon,

I looked at the website, but I'm not sure exactly how many things I'm supposed to buy.

Of the pads, the anti-slip foam pad like yours and the Deluxe DDR Pad with foam insert look the best; I'm leaning more towards the latter myself for foot support.

As far as adapters go, I'm guessing that I need the EMS USB adapter to actually plug the pad into my computer, which also allows my brother and I to play at the same time if we buy another pad. However, this little sentence here (Adapter is auto-installed by Windows 2000 and Windows XP (Direct X 8.1 or higher required) ) worries me. Do I need to look up the Direct X requirements on my laptop to make sure the pad will run?

Are there any other pieces that I'm missing?  There's the pad and there's the adapter.  Which ones did you buy and which ones would you recommend?

@};-

Current Mood:
artistic Searching
Current Music:
The proverbial "Mission Impossible" theme song
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"You know, you get up to the altar and it's time for Communion, and then they give you that little piece of flat bread, the Crouton o'Christ. A Jeezit. And the priest has a whole bowl full of 'em; I just want to grab it away from him and run home, pour a bunch of milk over it and eat it like Christ Checks. Wouldn't it be great if that were a real cereal? 'Start your day off the holy way: Christ Checks.' "

Brought to you courtesy of Dane something or other from Comedy Central.

w007.

@};-

Current Mood:
amused amused
Current Music:
"Wolf's Rain" on Adult Swim
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Happy Mother's Day!!!

I wouldn't have any other mother in the world but you.

@};-

Current Mood:
thankful thankful
Current Music:
Dryer in the background (mmm, pants...)
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