Saturday, December 24, 2011

Life and Death in the Times of St. Nick

Christmas is finally here! Well, in another six hours at least but it's Christmas Eve and so that has to count for something. It's one of my absolute favorite times of the year and always has been. Probably always will be. But this year it's for some additional reasons. My perspective on the holiday season is still very much the same: the red and green decorations, too many ornaments on the Christmas tree, my dad's fantastic lasagna that gets made exactly once a year but at the same time I find myself less concerned about the holiday and more with the fact that everyone is together and I am home.
I relish that sentence. I am home. I am home. I am home. I've missed my friends and family more than I thought; even my younger brother with whom I have previously shared mutual feelings of standoffishness. When I turn off my lights at night, the room actually goes dark instead of the quasi-darkness that living in the city institutes. I haven't heard a single siren since I've been home and I love it. Maybe I'm the only college kid who doesn't really want to go back but I doubt it. And if so, it's a title I wear proudly.
Also, being around old friends and family makes me so very aware of how lucky I am and how quickly life goes by. In a blink of an eye, my first semester of college is over and it doesn't take that colorful of an imagination to realize that life will flash by with the same frightening speed if I'm not careful. I've had the absolute joy of babysitting/visiting with my two year old neighbor recently. She laughs and giggles at everything and even her adamant "No!"'s are adorable. I love watching her face change expressions as she discovers something new and I'm proud to say she's in love with my pup, Jack, and that he loves her right back. Being around such a young person with such a bright future ahead of them brings a certain lightness to your heart.
On the other hand, my high school graduating class lost their first member this week. I didn't know the kid well but you don't always have to. It's an odd feeling, knowing that someone you went to school with for four years is now suddenly gone, no longer walking the streets, laughing, driving a car. He was just a kid for God's sake, one whose locker was right next to mine, who sat next to me in freshman history and made me laugh in junior chemistry. And now he's just another blinking star in the sky, lost in the infinite universe we can't quite figure out. My condolences go out to not only his family but to everyone who is suffering the loss of a love this holiday season. To those hurting and those in pain and those struggling through the foggy numbness as they try to find the right path in life. It's no easy thing and it might take years, if not decades, but I truly believe that in each one of us lies the strength, something the holiday season convinces me of each year.
I'm sorry for such a somber post so close to the holiday. Laugh and smile and hug your parents and kids and tell them you love them and then maybe tell them a knock-knock joke. Wear a silly hat and take a picture of it. Teach your dog a new trick. Anything to make your day just that much brighter, not only for yourself but for all those who can only see the dark and for those watching from above.

~M. T. Rossi

Monday, December 12, 2011

Friendships: Disney Princess Style

It's the beginning of finals week. Otherwise known as: the week in which my brain goes on strike against everything I've learned this year, throws out all useful information, and then locks the door when I try to put the info back in. It's been a long couple of days. Two exams tomorrow, one on Wednesday, one on Thursday and then I am gloriously free for an entire month. There are many thing I am looking forward to doing over break. Like sleeping. And going to my favorite gym. And...I actually haven't thought past those things.
Anyway, I was lying in bed last night at about two in the morning, unable to fall asleep due to a foot injury and lack of prescription drugs. Kidding about that last part. Kind of...
My mind wandered as minds tend to do at two in the morning and it stopped it's gallivanting when it reached my pictures that are hung on my wall (you can see just how far my mind is capable of wandering). More than a few times, I've had to explain several pictures to people here at school and what never fails to amaze me is the downright complexity of my many friendships. Seriously, I am such a lucky person to have so many great friends and it's really hard to categorize using the typical best friend, not best friend, acquaintance, classmate, enemy spectrum. So naturally, I turned to a more practical means of organizing: Disney movie characters. You're interested aren't you? Yeah, if you're procrastinating from more studying like me, my revelation here just became your new best friend. You're welcome.
So it goes like this. I have several best friends and when I say that, I'm being honest (When explaining high school friendships to a college friend it went like this: "Oh yeah my best friend is _____. Oh wait! I also have _____ who is my best friend. But _____ and _____ are also my best friends).
From here on out, my best friends will now be thought of as Disney Princesses. There's Ariel, Cinderella, Aurora, Snow White, Jasmine, Pocahontas. And yes, I do know who is who but I'm not giving away names ;)
Those are the easy ones. Then there's someone who is family but really is also a best friend so I decided she would be like Rapunzel from Tangled who is a recent day princess in my opinion and fits right in with as a not so standard best friend.
But what about all those friends who are your good friends but not really best friends? I mean, c'mon, they can't all be princesses. No worries, I figured that out last night too. These friends are akin to the sidekicks of the Disney Princesses: the seven dwarves, Flounder, Sebastian, Cinderella's mice...you get the idea. They love the princess, they'd do anything to help the princess, but you know, they're not princesses themselves.
You're probably thinking, but what about my guy best friends? Well, duh, they are the princes/male love interests (don't worry, you don't have to fall in love with them) so they are dubbed: Prince Eric, Flynn Rider, and I'm just gonna throw in John Smith because everyone likes to think of him.
And because I really don't want to go study biology and medieval music, I'm just gonna say that if you want to think about your enemies as the "bad guys" aka evil witches (Ursula, Cruella DeVil, The Queen, Maleficent) that's okay by me. I will not confirm or deny whether I think of certain people this way. I'll just leave you with your own thoughts on that one.
So what do you think? Was I on target? Do you agree with my careful planning of my friend-life?
I actually don't really care what you think (remember, it's finals week) but I thought these carefully posed questions might add some authenticity to this blogpost since the rest of it is kind of ludicrous. There's a good chance it doesn't make any sense (I just spent 6 hours debating abortion and learning the Shapely Shubik voting method) but I hope you had fun reading it cause I kinda had fun thinking of it.
You know, in a it's-two-in-the-morning-and-I-really-just-wanna-sleep kind of way.

~M. T. Rossi

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

A Blogpost Concerning Many Things About Me

Due to some nasty circumstances beyond my control, this blogpost is the one that was supposed to go up on Sunday. But the whole point of nasty circumstances is that they're usually out of your control and so you can deal with this being a few days late. I have.
I promised some people I would blog about running my first ever 5k on Thanksgiving (yes, the infamous Turkey Trot) and I also promised some people I would blog with a review of the Broadway show Memphis, starring the man I was once convinced I was going to marry. So to those people, here we go:
The race. I started panicking that morning, particularly as I got the starting line. They line you up by miles: 4 minute miles, 5 minute miles and so on. I didn't know this. I was quite shocked the farthest back was 9 minute miles. Where were my 12 minute miles? No, forget about 12, where were my 15 minute miles? I started off with two of my cousins. One a runner, one not. I'm in the not group which was very obvious after RunnerCousin decided to place us near the 7 minute mile mark. Um, what? RunnerCousin also moved on ahead about 100 feet after we started. Good riddance. I mean, uh, good for her. The rest of the race (3.1 miles for you non-runners), I ran side by side with NonRunnerCousin, which was extremely entertaining but also ego boosting as it was me cajoling her along after mile two. I have to thank her for that. Anyway, we ran and ran and ran and walked and then ran some more. We missed the water station. Don't ask me how. One minute we were thirsty and the next minute we were thirstier as we spotted all the dropped paper cups and mostly full water bottles along the street. I would also like to give a digital shout out to the those awful people who were baking chocolate chip cookies along the race route. The was just plain cruel.
Anyway, both NonRunnerCousin and I finished. Ha! You thought I was going to tell you our time, didn't you? No way. Maybe next year. But probably not.
Onto the second part of this blog.
Memphis.
Mr. Pascal.
On Broadway.
I love New York City, I do, but I'm in there quite often and have made a new favorite hangout spot of Tribeca. Midtown is just too crowded, too noisy, too god-awful touristy for me now. And on the day after Thanksgiving? Not such a great place to be, at all. I made it to the theater without being suffocated, stampeded over, and shoved in front of a passing cab. That in itself was a feat.
But I promised myself I was only going to review the show and not bore you with mundane details from the inner working of my brain. Because God knows that's a dangerous place to be.
The show was good. The show was lively. The show was...interesting. Look at all those adjectives I just used! But I use them hesitantly because I'm not quite sure how I feel yet. I am not such a fan of that kind of music. I was also definitely not a fan of them using the 'n-word', not once but twice during the show. I know it fit the times but it's not a classy thing to do, even in a historical perspective, and so my respect for the playwrights decreased a little there.
But as you know, I went to see Adam Pascal perform. And boy did he perform. He plays a stupid, southern boy character, a role I thought was hilarious to see him playing. Also, it's the first time I've seen him act in a role where I was able to look past him and see the actual character. I am/was (what I'd say before about that slashy mark?) a hardcore fan but there are times when I admit he's not the greatest actor/singer at what he's trying to accomplish. I am please however, to say this was not one of those times. It is truly the best role of his career so far. And yeah, I did get quite the thrill at seeing him on stage and it set my little fangirl heart a flutter. That stupid grin drifted back on my face even after all these years.
I'm going to end it there because this turned out to be way too long. Kudos to those who read to the end and please know I mean it when I say, thank you!
~M. T. Rossi

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Movies vs. Books

Okay, another false title. There's no such thing. At least, not when you're comparing movies to the books they are based off of.
I've been known to get into pretty big discussions (c'mon now, let's not call them arguments) about books and movies, characters and actresses, line flubs etc. Mostly about big franchises too.
I know, I know, you think I'm going to take this moment to either bash or exalt Twilight since the new movie came out this week.
I'm not.
So if that's what you're looking for, go away. Don't read this.
JUST KIDDING. Please read this.
Even though my "discussions" began heating up around the first Twilight movie (I was fourteen and it went something like: No, they can't cast a British Edward! How dare they, they left out my favorite part! Jacob is ugly!) it actually started farther back with the Harry Potter franchise. While I have read and watched all the Twilight books and movies, I obsessed over Harry Potter. I really did; it was sad. And while I think Twilight and Stephenie Meyer are both ridiculous, I adore Harry and J.K. Rowling. I grew up with Hogwarts; I read the first four books in 2nd grade. My oldest brother offered me his hardcover copies for $60.
And I bought them.
Not to get off-track but it was somewhere along the journey of HP movies that I realized we have to stop judging the movies based on the books. Yes, everyone gets riled up and angry and happy when they realize who has/has not been cast but we can't compare the two. Why, you ask?
One: They are two entirely different mediums.
Two: Here's the thing. Everyone expects movies to come out how they envision a book in their head, or at least some sort of visual world the books is based on. But often that's not what the scriptwriters and directors are going for. They are not there to satisfy every little detail of the movie, to perfect every line down to what pop culture demands it be. They are simply there to bring the big picture to life.
Take the highly anticipated Hunger Games movie. I loved the books. Not so thrilled about the movie although I will say, I pass no judgments one way or another until I've seen it. Why? Because personally, I think it's going to be hard to put the big picture onto the screen. The Hunger Games is about the characters. Their thoughts, feelings, dreams, disappointments, anger. You can't always capture that in a movie. Perhaps that's why Twilight is so successful; there isn't much to go off of in regards to deep and complex character personalities.
The tricky part comes in when you start comparing the latest movies to the previous ones. I do it all the time. I just saw Breaking Dawn and while I promised this wasn't a review, I have to say, I didn't care for it. It comes off the back of Eclipse which was packed with action and adrenaline whereas this one....wasn't. Again, to me, Harry Potter just seemed to get bigger and better every time. Maybe that's the trick. Making each one more interesting than the last.
Well, that's it for this subject. I have plenty more to say (don't I always?) but I fear it would creep up on reviewing movies and my personal opinions on each one and you guys don't really want to read that stuff.
Also, I'm starving.
And there's tacos for dinner.

~ M. T. Rossi

Saturday, November 12, 2011

My Favorite Time of Year

How cliche is that title? Very. And perhaps not so truthful as I really do like the month of June when I can run around barefoot and take the dog for long meandering walks along the gorge. But since the time of NorthFace jackets, pumpkin flavored everything and a whole month off of school has arrived, I've chosen to embrace it with open arms. Right now, for instance, I'm extraordinarily happy. I spent the day at the mall, bought a new CD, ate a meal that actually filled me up and there's a puppy laying on top of my laptop. No seriously, there is.

Told you so.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to type around that face?
No, I'm not in my dorm room. Thank God. I'm somewhere east of school hanging out with family. These weekend getaways happen to be one of the reasons school is so bearable at this time of year.
As I mentioned before, I went shopping today. At the mall. For multiple hours. I was so proud of myself. I told myself I was going out to start my Christmas shopping and that I would be a good present buyer and start nice and early this year instead of waiting for the last minute like usual. Did that happen?
Of course not. Don't be ridiculous.
Instead, I walked away with a Forever 21 bag full of a shirt that now belongs to ME. Same with Target. Except with a CD instead of a shirt. Said CD is playing on my laptop and making me even more extremely happy. But that's not the point of this. The point of this blogpost, I suppose, is just to welcome in the new season that always seems to approach so fast but then takes so long to end. That sentence didn't make sense.
But here I am, welcoming in the twisted peppermint and fire place scented candles (the latter smelled awful!), gazing up in wonder at the thirty foot Christmas trees and 'aw-ing' at the little kids on Santa's lap. This time of year always makes me feel so hopeful and my big dreams always become wilder. I'm not sure what it is but there's just something about curling up in bed with sweats and fuzzy socks and watching a movie.
In ten short days, I get to head home for Thanksgiving *insert squeal here* and if you can't tell, I'm beyond excited. My doggy, my bed and my parents are all waiting for me not to mention the turkey, mashed potatoes and cranberry relish that I'll eat too much of. And er, the fact I may have, er, signed up to run a race on Thanksgiving morning. No, I've never run a race before but this is what happens when your whole family has no interest in watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Wish me luck.
Three weeks after that, I get to go home for a whole month!! So. Friggin. Excited.
Anyway, the cousin has just turned on Beauty and the Beast and I hear Aladdin is up next. There's a dish of chocolate sitting behind me and I can hear the puppy barking in the yard.
Yep, life is good.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

The Beginning of the End

This post was originally going to be about the upcoming hype of Breaking Dawn and the overall feeling towards franchises such as Twilight and Harry Potter. I was really looking forward to some hardcore defending of authors and filmmakers and so on. But...something else, a bigger, more impressive topic (can you imagine something bigger than vampires and wizards?) has slowly been building up steam in my mind. And I decided this would be a good place to let my feelings known about it. I will really try to keep the outright ranting to a minimum (this should be good).
The topic: Bullying.
Yes, I'm serious. I got the idea to switch the topic of the blogpost when I saw that #RIPSophie was trending on Twitter on this afternoon. Naturally, I clicked on it to see what was up even though I don't personally know any Sophie's, and so wasn't that alarmed.
Turns out that Sophie is another victim of bullying and it is thought to have committed suicide, tweeting about it moments before.
Stories like this break my heart. And unfortunately, they are much too frequent. When I hear about teens or even younger than teens committing suicide because of bullying, a thousand questions jump into my mind, each one an infection, spreading to even more questions that I don't think can ever be answered.
Why do people bully others? What do they get out of it. Joy? Relief? Are all bullies just sick, twisted people or are they the poor, misunderstand adolescents they've always been labeled as? Maybe a little of both? What right does one person have over another's life? What gives you permission to end a person's life? Why you? And why them?
When I was in elementary school, I was bullied. Quite harshly, in fact, as the girl put her hands on me quite a few times and left marks on my skin. Even just ten years ago, bullying was highly overlooked by teachers and school administrators. The principal of my school called me into the office and actually asked me this question: "Well, what are you doing to provoke her?"
I could only stare. Was he kidding me? I finally had worked up the courage to say something and they didn't even believe me. It was a harsh slap in the face; one who's sting hasn't quite faded.
Coming off that story, my next comment might be a little biased.
But...it's the adults that don't want to listen. I've said it many times before and I'll say it many times again...they see what they want to see and they hear what they want to hear. I'm trying my best not to sound like an resentful teenager. And I'll thank you in advance for not treating me like one.
But they don't listen. They didn't when I was nine and they don't now. Laws and rules are being put into place all over this country to eradicate bullying but it's not going to happen. Not until the people in charge take off the blinders that make them so susceptible to making these deadly errors in judgment. If a girl comes to you, as a teacher, a parent, an administrator, and she's fearful of a kid in the grade, listen to her. If your child comes home with his head hanging down and starts complaining about classmates, listen. For God's sake, if any child has the courage and strength to lift their head and whisper their shameful secret...LISTEN.
To all the bullies out there (and they know exactly who they are, as cliche as that sounds):
This has got to stop.
This victimizing, hazing, destroying of lives must end. Every single one of you has a light inside you, just waiting to be lit. Sometimes, that light is going to be hard to find and maybe you're even a little afraid of the dark. But that doesn't give you the right to go extinguish someone else's. Look around. Instead of tormenting, hold our your hand because chances are, the person next to you needs help striking the match just as much as you do. But I, along with countless others, are asking, begging you to be the beginning of the end. It might be the only chance you get (and I hope it's not) to change someone's life. So smile next time instead of saying something ugly. Hold your hand out instead of your foot. Make a difference.
I know this one blogpost (and it's a long one, I'm sorry) isn't going to change the world. Hell, I don't even know if people read this thing. But if you do, please don't shake your head and call it a rant. We're all at fault here. Take action and open your ears because sometimes those cries for help are muttered in whispers instead. Into pillows, lockers, best friend's shoulders. But you have the chance to help and if you do, I promise you one thing:
You will never, ever regret it.

Monday, October 31, 2011

In Which I Teach You How to Procrastinate

I'll give you one guess why it's been almost 2 weeks since I last blogged. No, I wasn't kidnapped by the mysterious men in the cafeteria who refill the glasses whenever they're empty. And no, sorry to disappoint, but I did not run off to join a tribe of Amazon women who wear no bras. Because that's weird. And uncomfortable.
I was procrastinating.
I know, shocker isn't it? A college kid, procrastinating? That's practically unheard of. As rare as finding marshmallows in cereal! Okay, nix that last sentence. But it's true. I am the world's greatest procrastinator. I know what you're thinking; you think there's someone who's better than me. There's not, don't you worry. Why else would I be writing this when I'm supposed to be doing homework? Even though tonight's homework involves watching Jake Gyllenhaal in Source Code.
Since I know some of you always do your homework on time, make your bed before 6:00 at night and write papers a week before they're due (I'm sorry, but that's just disgusting. You need to see someone if these applies to you.), I have constructed some things that you can do to help you procrastinate. You can thank me later and please hold all applause until after the show.

1. Sleep. Possibly the greatest procrastinator of all time. You can use this method for pretty much everything: homework, class, homework, setting the table, homework, working out, homework. Because everyone needs their sleep. Everyone. Even those old people who try to make us believe they are rested on 6 hours of sleep. Don't be fooled.

2. Eat. There are two benefits to this one: you procrastinate and you make your tummy happy! Nothing better than downing the wheat thin and vitamin water before you study. (Always include a drink when working with electronic devices. You wouldn't want to spill that all over your new laptop! Although maybe your old laptop...)

3. Walk Around Aimlessly. I do a lot of this. At college, it's great because there are many places you can go. The mail room (where there is never any mail for you), the library (which is scary because there's people actually working), the coffee shop (see #2), and of course your friends' rooms which are bound to be just as boring as yours unless they happen to have a baby monkey or squirrel or something (none of mine do).

4. Read. How nerdy is that? But true. Because, just like sleep, you have to read to stay smart. Even comic books have their advantages. They um, make you laugh which, um, burns calories, and um...moving on. Although I wouldn't advise telling your professor you didn't do the powerpoint presentation because Emma and Louie were caught up in a whirlwind romance while fighting mystical creatures in a land where there's no chocolate and everyone thinks dolphins speak English. Or something like that.

5. Internet. Ah, the good ole' fallback. Nowadays, you can spend ample time on Twitter, Facebook, StumbleUpon, blogger, etc. You can spend as much time as you want...unless your eyeballs fall out or your brain explodes from sensory overload. Attractive, isn't it? On second thought, maybe we should actually stay away from that.

I have now provided you with five excellent ways to procrastinate. (Okay, now you can applaud. GO!) If you have any more, please feel free to let me know, as I'm always in the market for more ideas. I'm off to go not do my homework and possibly sleep, eat, or read. Or maybe all three.

Happy Halloween!

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Authors: The Real Teachers

Some kids look up to their parents as role models, some look up to celebrities and some look up to fictionalized superheroes. Hey, whatever works, right?
Not me. I looked up to books. Well, I thought I did. But as I grew older and inifintely wiser, I realized these books weren't writing themselves. That there were actual normal (well, human at least) everyday people creating these masterpieces. I think thats when it dawned on me that my dream of being a writer could perhaps someday turn into a reality. But not before I learned some very important lessons from some of the best in the field.

From Sarah Dessen I learned that young love is indeed real.

Maggie Stiefvater taught me how to write angst and use my words hauntingly.

It is Libba Bray I can blame for my love-hate relationship with the present tense. Ms. Bray also gave me the overwhelming satisfaction of being able to meet one of my childhood heroes :)

Judy Blume assured me I was never alone through the awkward stages and beyond.

Beverly Cleary taught me the importance of chaptering.

Ann Brashares spelled out the meaning of friendship with a pair of pants...genius.

It was Sarah Mlynowski's books that taught me to write in the first person...and become addicted to it.

Richelle Mead taught me the utter importance of having a kickass main character.

Cornelia Funke opened me up to the fantastic and dangerous world of fantasy. I haven't been the same since.

Love triangles and futuristic ravage came from Suzanne Collins.

Markus Zusak who taught me that all those literary devices I learned in freshman English can be put into beautiful, beautiful use.

Scott Westerfeld who introduced me to Science Fiction and made it not so scary and confusing.

Stephenie Meyer taught me that it doesn't always have to be complicated; simplicity works too.

Jennifer Lynn Barnes taught me originality and gave me hope that maybe I really can publish something before I am thirty.

J.K. Rowling was there the whole time I grew up and gave me my first childhood crush and role model.

It doesn't end here. Every single book out there that I've read (and there's quite a few) has had an immense impact on me, whether it be negative or positive, happy or disgusted; whatever it is, I only have the authors to thank.

So really, after all this, how could someone NOT be inspired to write? These authors created my best friends, confidants, enemies and family. They opened the doors to my own creativity, taught me respect and admiration and fostered my love for all things literary. But the biggest reason I need to say thank you?
They were the ones who ultimately built my childhood.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Forever a Fangirl

It hasn't been that long since I was a young teenager, riddled with insecurites and held up with fervent obsessions. For those who don't know, my biggest obsession was/is the musical Rent, more namely, one of the original cast members, Mr. Adam Pascal. I put the slashy mark in between the two because I'm not sure if that obsession has truly ended or if it's just chosen to relax a bit and now sits in the back of my mind, collecting dust until there comes a moment when it's leaps up and shouts, "I'm here!!"
One of those moments happened yesterday when a friend put a link on my facebook wall leading to a recent interview with none other than Mr. Pascal. I screamed a bit. I swooned a lot. I scared my roommate by jumping out of my chair and slamming the door shut so no one else could hear the video.
Mr. Pascal just happens to be a very sexy talented actor who's appeared in several Broadway shows. He has a great body voice that I have always been drawn to. In the very epicenter of my severe fangirl disease, I saw him three or four different times in the span of two years. At one point, I was pretty confident I knew everything about him, had seen the majority of his youtube videos and heard all his songs. Scary, I know. At least wasn't under the delusion I would marry him someday (that right is reserved for a Mr. Taylor Lautner). To say the least, I was passionate. To say the most....I was on my way to stalker level.
Yesterday, when this new interview appeared on my wall, my mind did a little flip back in turn and I was thirteen again. Yes, I hung on to every word he said. Yes, I catalogued all the little details of the interview (those shoes were awesome). And, er, yes, I did happen to notice how beautiful those long eyelashes of his are. But that's not the point.
It's been over three years since I last saw him in concert and I'm very hopeful I'll see him in Memphis, a musical I know nothing about and hadn't a thought of seeing until I heard of his late October arrival to the scene. If it ever happens, I'll let you all know how it goes.
But for now, I'll have to revert back to my pre-teen mode when I'm in need of a hardcore fangirl fix. That or one of the several dvds that always satisfy a Pascalian craving.
Don't worry though, if you hear some high pitched screaming or giggles or possibly sobbing, just keep on walking by my door. Everything is fine.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Student, Writer, Dreamer

Hey everyone!

I'm M.T. Rossi, just your average teenage girl who eats way too much chocolate and spends way too much time dreaming about the future instead of doing her homework. College kid that I am, I'm supposed to put lots and lots of effort into my schoolwork. Unfortunately, I'm not really the kind of girl that does what she's supposed to all the time. But I do try my hardest to split my time (not always equally) between writing and doing homework which is much harder than I expected it to be. Who would of thought that all your good ideas come to you during biology class?
I'm quiet around strangers but I've got strong opinions and boy you don't want to see me get loud. I believe in peace, equality, honesty and that everyone should have pizza once a week. Friends, family and words are my world and I'm trying to learn as much as possible about the editing and publishing world as possible because someday, I want to work in it....I think (can you tell I have commitment issues?). I've got big, big plans for the future and nobody is going to get in my way, so if that's what you're here to do, go away.
I'm a dreamer and I'm here to seize opportunity and change the world.
Okay, maybe not but it's a nice thought, right?