After a long hiatus, I’m ready to start writing again.
I spent the entire month of February meeting new friends, learning new philosophies, pondering theories, and challenging dress codes everywhere with my taste in footwear. I tried Jasmine tea for the first time and gave Mexican food a second chance. I picked up smoking – again. I’m kicking the habit with the patch – again. I have a stronger love for electronica and folk music, but have realized they should never be mixed together in the same play list. I also discovered that dark nail polish looks good, especially on toes that are about to freeze off. In the month of February, all men I encountered looked at my boobs. The gay men just touched them without looking. In an effort to stay healthy and poor, since last month, I shop exclusively at Whole Foods, Nutrition S’Mart and the organic sections in Publix. I also drive by the Farmer’s market and remind myself that I should check it out one day.
Throughout my travels, I also made it a point to read books that I wouldn’t normally read, like Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi’s gem,
“It’s a Shore Thing.” Luckily I was on a plane, devoid of sharp objects, so I couldn’t poke out my own eyes. But, while I was contemplating other ways to hurt myself for purchasing this manure-script, it hit me:
If this bitch got a book deal, why can’t I? And then I realized I started speaking like the kids on the Jersey Shore, so I took the book into the bathroom and left it on the counter, face down, so her face would get soaked with the sink water that certainly had seven types of cholera because I was flying American.
To make a short blog entry long, I’ve decided to pursue an MFA in Creative Writing with a concentration in writing for the stage and screen in the hopes of winning some award that will put me before a national audience where I can thank Snooki for inspiring my creativity.
In the meantime, I will be writing here, again. Which makes me happy. Like fist pumping.