Hey! Tomorrow is my turn on the blog chain. I am freaking excited to share my post with you.
I hope you'll come see me here tomorrow!
And I have a blog announcement Monday that will detail the direction in which I plan to head with Jon's Life.
Jan 27, 2012
Jan 11, 2012
A New Semester
I never really followed up on telling you how last semester ended.
IT EFFING SUCKED.
But this next semester will rock. Or rather, I will rock this new semester.
Mhm.
Children's Lit.
Creative Writing.
That says it all.
Jan 3, 2012
Blog Chain: Welcome to the Home of the Dimwits
I'm the head of the household at the Dimwits. I forgot that I to start the new blog chain today!! Ugh.
I hope you enjoyed the holidays. I sure did!
My topic (which is one of my favorite writing exercises):
Imagine the home(s) where you grew up, and start drawing a floor plan. As you draw, memories will surface. Grab onto one of those memories and tell us a story.
At five, my bedroom was in the basement of a 3,500 square foot ranch home. I miss that house. I shared my room with my older brother, Joey. Built in the mid-1970's, the finished basement featured flooring of brown carpet, red faux-brick wallpaper, and a wall covering that resembled corkboard.
One night, Joey stayed over at a friend's house and I was left to sleep alone in our room. I have never done so before. I was scared shitless.
I knew monsters of all kinds lived throughout the basement, but my brother always kept them at bay with his nasty smelling farts. This particular night was hot and I was burning to death in my red TMNT footy pajamas. I was most afraid the man living behind the corkboard would come and get me.
Deep in the night, I awoke to a noise. A cold sweat oozed across my body and my feet cold not breathe. Suddenly, I realized my eyes were crusted over and I could not open them. I started scraping at them, but it hurt, so I stopped. Then it hit me: the man from behind the corkboard had fused my eyes shut using the broken bits of cork that covered the floor (I knew I should have vacuumed those up!)
I did not scream and I could not cry because of the crust covering my eyes. I pulled the sheet over my head and held my breath as I listened for the man from behind the corkboard. At some point, I fell asleep and woke up to daylight some hours later. My eyes opened like normal, but I felt remnants of the crust around my eyes and on my cheeks.
The very first thing I did was grab the Oreck and vacuum the heck out of the floor where the cork pieces lived. Every time I get a cold or have allergies, I relive my fear of the man from behind the corkboard.
Tomorrow, check out Michelle McLean's blog to see which memory she shares!
Dec 12, 2011
the list just keeps getting longer
iowa
minneap
chitown
portland
upstate ny
toronto
sea-tac
vancouver
boston
charlotte
salt lake citeh
denver
so many places i think i can make it. now i am looking to the ones that will help me go above and beyond.
that's a long list.
minneap
chitown
portland
upstate ny
toronto
sea-tac
vancouver
boston
charlotte
salt lake citeh
denver
so many places i think i can make it. now i am looking to the ones that will help me go above and beyond.
that's a long list.
Dec 6, 2011
Things I Dearly Miss From My Childhood - Part I
Making historically inaccurate dioramas out of food and kitty litter.
"Ooo wee ooo killer tofu!"
Disliking the taste of bleu cheese.
Skinny Topanga
Waiting for the bus, jumping on the trampoline with my friends, and listening to "Red Red Wine".
Candy cigarettes, swings, and gravel playscapes.
The time before I realized how effed up it would all turn out.
Mayflies surrounding the tent.
Drowning Polly Pockets.
Not knowing the definition of 'lament'.
Singing alto
Wanting to be an architect.
Orange pop
Ping pong, without it being beer pong.
Arcade prizes
Brady Bunch marathons on Nick at Nite.
The frickin' nineteen nineties, which includes Y2K prep.
"Ooo wee ooo killer tofu!"
Disliking the taste of bleu cheese.
Skinny Topanga
Waiting for the bus, jumping on the trampoline with my friends, and listening to "Red Red Wine".
Candy cigarettes, swings, and gravel playscapes.
The time before I realized how effed up it would all turn out.
Mayflies surrounding the tent.
Drowning Polly Pockets.
Not knowing the definition of 'lament'.
Singing alto
Wanting to be an architect.
Orange pop
Ping pong, without it being beer pong.
Arcade prizes
Brady Bunch marathons on Nick at Nite.
The frickin' nineteen nineties, which includes Y2K prep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)