69. Jesus loves me.

See Jesus can’t love me. He was alive like 2000 years ago, built some houses, performed some hoax magic, tricked a bunch of people, died, and his energy went back into the circle of life. It’s that simple. I hate people who try to push their religion on me. I am agnostic leaning heavily towards atheist. I don’t trash on people who need religion in their life. If you need someone to tell you what is right and wrong, that is your issue. I have my morals, based on what I believe. Over the last twenty-one years I have lived my life, and while I can’t say that I’ve done it all, I have seen enough to figure out what I find is right. In my eyes, organized religion, specifically all denominations of Christianity in America, is merely a way to control the masses. Organized religion stifles free thought, promotes bias of all types, and creates unequal living standards. So FUCK JESUS. He and his befuddled, misguided followers can go force their rhetoric on some unsuspecting victim. I’m happy leading my life by MY morals.

Prompt #13

60. "We are gathered here today to remember....."

My youth. Yes I know I’m only 21, but damn I feel old. My high school classmates are getting married. Some of them are having kids. Music that was new and I loved in Junior High is getting play on classic rock stations My “little” cousins are in high school. I remember all the great things from the 80’s that all these “kids” here have never heard of. I looked at pictures from high school and I look young in them. My little sister is getting her license soon. My half sister is thirty, 30! I found a varicose vein. All my life I never could see life past 20. I’m going to be 22 in two months. I have exceeded my life expectancy. All my friends are graduating college soon and will be settling into their “real lives.” Everyday I am surrounded by people who can stay up later, drink more, run harder, smoke more, and seem to have no worries. Not many people seem to be coming back next semester. They’re all taking time off from school. I remember being 18 and saying I was taking a semester or two off. Three and a half years later, I’m finally here. Though some people may say that I wasted my life, I don’t think I did. I have to remind myself regularly that I have a lot to show for my time off. Nothing physical of course. I worked for three years and merely lost a lot of possessions. I own less now than I did four years ago. Hmmm, that doesn’t make sense. Oh well, I learned a lot. I learned important life lessons before I went to college. Not that I can remember what any of these lessons are, I spent too much time killing brain cells and my liver to remember. But maybe I will someday, when I really have gotten old.

Shitty Ass Concert Schedules (Freestyle #12)

So I’m pissed off again. All the bands I want to see this summer aren’t coming to Boston. However, they will all be In Philadelphia within a week of each other. GODDAMN IT. When I’m in Philly I have no one to go to concerts with and lots of concerts to go to. I move home and there are no concerts and tons of people to go with. Why can’t I have my fucking cake and eat it too. It’s one thirty in the morning and I am officially wound up. I want to go bust some taillights or slash some tires. I don’t care whose car it is. I just need to release some anger. Who the hell did I piss off for my concert dreams to be smashed repeatedly. I’m all up for driving 12 hours to go to a concert, but NO. No one want to drive it. I have somewhere to stay, but no. I think I need a fucking cigarette. SHIT!!

Prompt #12

54. Headin' down the hiway, lookin' for adventure....

I was just reminded why I moved back to Maine. For the last few months I’ve been beating my head against the wall slipping into the typical twenty-something mentality of “Maine sucks.” To many people the first sign of spring is a robin, or the first crocus of the year. For me it’s my first whiff of the ocean. When that fresh salty smell finally tickles my nose after a long winter of being suppressed by the cold, I come alive. I’m finally excited to be back. I grew up on the coast. Being stuck in Bangor this summer is my version of hell. No doubt I’ll be making the Irving Corporation richer this summer by driving down U.S. Highway #1 to Hancock County every chance I get. It’s adventure time. Four wheeling with my little sister, mini golf, dancing the night away with my big sister, road trips to Boston and Philadelphia, learning how to ride a motorcycle from my step-dad, night swims, strawberry or blueberry picking with my mom, visits from cousins, driving to Canada for the weekend, all night drives to see concerts, pirate pillaging, parties and canasta marathons at the cabin, days that last into the night, and nights that last into the day. It has begun. So if you can’t find me it’s cause I’m in my car “Headin' down the hiway, lookin' for adventure....”

Bill OH Bill Where Art You? (Freestyle #11)

I miss Bill. He’s like my surrogate boyfriend. We’ve never kissed or even cuddled. He’s just always there for me. Anytime I need a date for things, he’s there. He has a permanent invitation to family dinners, especially those involving lobster.
Since the beginning of the semester, I’ve barely seen him. It’s hard as hell to go from seeing one of your best friends at least every day to not seeing him at all, it was like I had moved to Philadelphia all over again. About a month ago I finally confronted him about why he never wanted to hang out. He said that he needed time to “be his own person.” I respected that and gave him his space.
Monday night I saw him at Wal-Mart and he actually seemed receptive to hanging out. Last night I logged on to Yahoo Instant Messager and before I could even see who was on, Bill popped up and apologized, admitting that he had been a major asshole as of late. We ended up having this great conversation as to why everything that has been happening has been happening.
I understand his needs more now and we’re hanging out on Sunday. I’m uber happy. I love those conversations that are a long time coming and intense. As long as I don’t have to start them. So this is my reason for being happy regardless of the fact that I had to get up before I wanted this morning.

Prompt #11

49. Doesn't matter where you begin, you'll end up back here.
50. If you don't believe I'm leaving, you can count the days I'm gone.


One very scared twenty year old girl. A U-Haul containing every last possession. Three packs of cigarettes. Four hours of sleep. Seven states going south. Thirteen hours. Dozens of interstates and eight lane highways. No CD player, countless local radio stations.
“I’m moving to Philadelphia. I leave the seventh.” “No I don’t have a job there yet.” “Of course I’ll be back eventually.” “I’m moving into Amy’s place. They have a spare bedroom.” “Yes, I’ll go to college once I get down there.” “Yes it’s for real.” “No, it’s not my first choice, it’s my only choice.” “Yes I know, I am excited I’m going, I just don’t like the circumstances.” Through the tears: “I’m going to miss you so much.” “I wish I didn’t have to go.” “Bye.”
One year and two months later:
Four Hundred and Forty-Four Days Later:
One very happy girl. One older sister. One very cramped mother. A Grand Jeep Cherokee containing every last possession. One pack of cigarettes. Six hours of sleep. Seven states going north. Eleven hours. A dozen or so interstates and eight lane highways. One CD player, countless CDs.
“Yeah I’m coming home, I’m leaving on the twenty-fourth.” “No, I don’t have a job, or a car.” “I’m going to stay on Emily’s couch until I get on my feet.” “I was enrolled at PCC, but withdrew when I decided to move home.” “Yes, I promise I will go to college once I get back.” No, I’m really not joking.” “This is most definitely what I want to be doing. This is my choice.” YES, I’m excited. Going home is all I’ve thought about for the last 15 months.” With a huge smile on my face “I’m back.”

Contrast Essay Reflection

Wow. That is how I can most simply sum up my feeling on my contrast essay. While many of the ideas and sentiments expressed are ones I have had for years, many of the contrasts are ones that had not completely dawned on me. I was drained emotionally when I finished and while the words flowed easily, I had to take many breaks while writing in order to keep from crying. I’m glad I wrote this essay. Over break I sat down, on separate occasions, and shared many of my observations with my mother and younger sister. I think my mother was surprised at how I interpreted her two husbands and respected how “adult” I was being. I think when I discussed my observations of her father, I believe my little sister began to understand the reasons behind her anger toward him. While this essay was a long time coming, I think now was the time to do it.

“A little madness in the Spring is wholesome even for the King.” - Emily Dickinson (Freestyle #9)

Everyone’s high this week. The most natural drug in the world has hit this dorm like a tornado. No one is safe. It’s the first week of Spring and everyone has become disturbingly laid back. Even the big things can’t seem to get anyone down. A friend who would normally dig right in and fight with her boy got up and walked away before the fight really even started. Another friend who is incredibly chaste did more than just kiss a boy she had just met. Another friend bought a very sexy outfit, just for hell of it, something I never pictured her doing. My mom doesn’t know what day of the week it is, something she’s always on top of. My best friend has forgiven me for transgressions she usually would never let go of. My sister isn’t picking fights with her boy on a daily basis. Everyone seems to have a heightened sexual awareness. Everyone seems to want to hook up, perhaps even to the point that they are willing to lower their standards. You can feel the electricity in the air. Sparks are flying and everyone wants to get burned. I’m restless as can be and have simply too much energy to contain it.
I want to get out there and do crazy things. If Spring had a motto it would be, “Spontaneity now, responsibility later.” I want to live that right now, I want to lay it down on the floor and roll in it. I want to wrap it around me and frolic in the mud. I want to put it in my mouth just see what will pop out. I want to put it on my hook and see what I can catch. I want to put in a glass and drink it, just to see how it tastes. I want to make it the glimmer in my eye and see what I want. I want to put it on my feet and see where it takes me. I want to dump it over other peoples’ heads and see what THEY”LL do.
This is the one time in the year when you can get away with saying “Fuck it all,” and doing what pleases you instead of what pleases the huddled masses. I implore you all to get out there and do something crazy. Ask that girl out, try that new sexy outfit, forgive someone, let your mind wander, whatever it is that is holding you back, whatever it is that is making you say “What if.” Do it.
Forget all your fears and see what will happen. I’m not claiming any responsibility for the results, and I want you to be safe. I’m not saying to go out and see what it feels like to kill someone or jump off a bridge without a bungee cord. I’m not saying to go out and do hurtful things or go out and be completely safe. Use a bungee cord, a designated driver, a condom, whatever it takes. Just get out there and be spontaneous. Now, go why are you still reading? Vamoose.!

Prompt #10

43. No matter how many times I've been told and no matter how many times I tell myself, I just don't change. (Wow I think this one may have been written just for me.)

I’m willful, no, I’m resolute, no I’m stubborn, no wait, I’m obstinate. Once my mind is set, it’s set. And my mind is set on a lot of things. Procrastination is a reasonable plan of action. Pink Floyd is the best band in the galaxy. Children with red hair are the cutest. Heck, so are the adults. Green eyes are the most beautiful. The English language is the best artistic medium. Pro-lifers are close minded religious assholes, even the ones I like. Your Mom is the funniest car name ever invented. The only place you can get a good cheese steak is Philadelphia. The happiest place on earth IS Disney World, especially when you’ve had a few drinks. And many more, I simply don’t feel like sharing with you right now, and you’re just going to have to deal with that. And if you don’t like it, I don’t care.
I’m right and you’re wrong. Ask my mother, she’ll tell you. (Not that I’m right and you’re wrong, but that I’ve always thought that.) From the time I could breathe, I’ve been demanding things my way on my time. I’m not greedy or selfish and I don’t have an inflated ego, but hell I was an only child until I was fourteen. I think that entitles me to a certain degree of consideration. And who the hell are you to try to change me. I’ll change in my time with my conditions. And there’s nothing you can do to change my time.

Prompt #9

Still, he needed socks to keep his feet warm.
(A prompt from http://onemillionfootnotes.blogspot.com/)

From the time I was fourteen, I lived in a house with radiant heat. (This is where you put hot water tubing in the concrete below the floor, an economical and toe friendly way of heating your house.) Oh, how I miss radiant heat, sigh. So when I moved out of my parents house, I could never figure out why my feet were always cold in the winter. I’d be standing in the kitchen of my apartment, doing dishes, unable to figure out why my bare feet felt like they were blocks of ice. I went two months that yeaar wih fozen feet, before someone suggested I put on socks or slippers, hell maybe both. Now that may seem like the most reasonable idea in the world, but after you’ve live five years in a house with radiant heat, it seems ridiculous to HAVE to wear anything on your feet if you don’t want to. But, I’d rather have warm feet than make a point, so now in the winter I wear socks to keep my feet warm.

“I think, therefore I am.” (Freestyle #10)

I write, therefore I am. If I’m not in a emotional or mental place where I can write, I don’t feel a live. It doesn’t matter what I’m writing, as long as the words are flowing, I’m happy. I haven’t been writing for myself since this semester has started, but you know, I still feel alive. Between the prompts and the freestyles for this class, speeches for Lewandowski, and even papers for History 101, I’ve been doing enough writing to get all the crazy thought energy out of my head. It makes me happy. I can feel my brain tingle as synapses fire and ideas being born. It’s a fantastic thing. I hate things that make me smile without my permission and thinking about the ability to let words tumble from my hands is making me smile right now. But I’m not mad, I’m just happy at how alive I feel. Not only am I writing but at least one other person is reading it. Yay!

Classification Essay Reflection

I had a hell of a lot of fun writing this essay. It was an interactive experience unlike any other. I kept on having to leave the computer lab while writing in order to step outside and make myself laugh in order to jog my memory. I knew all my laughs, but had trouble describing them without hearing them in the flesh. It took me awhile to figure out when I use some of them, but it was fun. This essay was a puzzle made up with extremely familiar pieces that seemed oddly foreign. I enjoy studying the well-known and analyzing from angles your not used to. It’s great fun.