Travel: Joshua Tree, et al.

My girlfriend and I took a spontaneous road trip to Joshua Tree. And let me tell you, it exceeded my expectations by miles! Well, sort of… Joshua Tree National Park itself was on the spectrum of what I call the “once in about 15 years” kinda place — where I don’t see a need to go back for a very long time because it will most likely be exactly as it was the day I went, and I’m sure I would not forget it.

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The Bittersweet Truth of Summer

It’s been four nights since I left the bay for the summer, [and four years (and three days) since I started this rather inconsistent blog of mine]. Only a week ago I was starting to rip pictures off my wall in anticipation for the end of Spring 2017. My roommate hadn’t started yet, in fact, she had barely been back from her weekend holiday in Chicago by then. Not only that, but we still had final exams to prepare for before we could do any celebrating.

Summer this year wasn’t as eagerly anticipated as it would be if we were any other college student, and it’s certainly nothing like it was back in high school – all excited to do nothing and relax under the sun. Don’t get me wrong, we all were excited for that — but, this year, it was a little different–a little more…bittersweet.

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April Showers bring May Flowers

I was not dissatisfied with the beginning of spring semester this year. Not one bit. In fact, Spring has been the best time of my life – this whole academic year has been pretty awesome – but particularly this season.

I have felt so positive in my surroundings and I’ve had very good luck – even more so after a disappointing political season. After the Women’s March in LA, I arrived on orientation day and reunited with my friends and met new residents. Then after all that faffing about, I unpacked, we started school, had a games night, I started my tennis club (only one meeting has been had this entire semester due to flooding), and the house took a day trip to San Francisco.

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Poem: “Blank Page”

After much delay, here is a Sonnet I wrote that was kind of inspired by my last post on falling in love with a writer. This poem describes the writer’s (or an artist’s) imagination and the struggles it comes with – or rather, the price they pay for such a gift. It’s a simple little english sonnet I whipped up for class the other week. Fourteen line, ABAB..GG format.

Hope you enjoy! I will try to post more often. Until then–

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Prose: “Falling in Love with a Writer is a Bad Idea”

ProseIn light of Valentine’s Day, here’s a short passage I randomly churned out this morning about falling in love with a writer (if you didn’t guess already). It starts off in third person and then transitions into first – making it personal and relatable to anyone who knows what I’m talking about! Hope you enjoy.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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Writing Workshop – Fiction

This semester, I’m taking two creative writing classes – Writing Fiction, and Writing Poetry. In the fiction class, we have already been tasked to do some quick exercises at the end of our class periods. If we do these regularly, I would love to show them as we go and see if I progress in thought and execution, or style. They’ll most likely all be very, very short descriptive pieces – depending on the amount of time (and task) the professor gives us.

Hope you enjoy little slices of my mind as we go!
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Diary: Please eject before removing

It’s raining in LA. Apparently it’s raining all over California – and I’m loving it. I keep gazing out the window, like a child looking for Santa, completely starstruck. It’s heavy, too. Not like a light shower here and there, it’s a real waterfall — the sky opened and I’m Henny Penny yelling to Goosey Loosey that the sky is falling!

It’s all I’ve got to think about now. School is over for the semester and I’ve got nothing to do. It’s not that I’m not entertained, I keep busy, but my mind feels stuck, like it was going on fast-forward and someone pressed pause to get some popcorn and fell asleep waiting for it… Continue reading “Diary: Please eject before removing”

Political Rant

We all stood at the TV. I glared at the numbers as they fluctuated back and forth between each candidate. For sure Clinton’s got it, I thought. California results come in, I hold my breath. Fifty-five electoral votes go to Hillary! We’re saved! But that’s not the case. There just isn’t enough electoral votes yet – and we wait again. We’re waiting for Philadelphia – the turning point of the whole race…

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