Assignment two: Write your own obituary. I must interject and say that I am extremely superstitious and hated the thought of typing my own death and printing it out in ink. My teacher seems to think that I'll learn from this assignment, but all it really made me want to do was cut off my fingers for typing about the end.
Born into a farmhouse surrounded by lush fields, lavish gardens, and the sound of cowbells, Sara Levine began her life in the rolling hills of eastern Connecticut. The product of two idealistic hippies, Sara soon learned that life was more about living than it was about working. On more than one occasion, she was taught that running away from a job was a better solution to toughing it out and that another door would always open after you left the last one swinging on its hinges.
Sara went to college because it was the next thing on the “to-do list” of life but having no idea what to study, she chose a major in Recreation Management knowing it used to be called Leisure Studies. It was a course of learning that enhanced the use of common sense and led her to be adaptable in life, no matter what career path she decided to take. And speaking of careers, Sara always said that having one was the last thing in life she would ever be excited about.
As a world traveler, Sara began to journal the differences between her own life and how it compared to everyone else’s. She felt that traveling to distant places would unlock the secret of life and open up the mysteries of the world’s constant evolution. In her novel, Everyone Else, Sara described how humbling it was to be in the presence of those who “have it figured out and seem to be content with what they have chosen to do with their time.” She was always on the quest for satisfaction, whether it came from people, relationships, food, travel, or scenery.
Early in life, Sara made a few wise investment decisions enabled her to purchase a vacation villa in Southern Spain, for which she gave each of her friends and family members a key to. Each year, Sara hosted a reunion for all her acquaintances, near and far and even paid the price of plane tickets for those who were unable. Sara has willed the vacation villa to her survivors under the stipulation that they continue the tradition of its annual party.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
A new one
Ok, kids. I'm back. It's been three long years since I've posted and I just gave my new writing instructor my url and now I feel the need to make it look like I've been working. I know that no matter what, he's probably gonna rip me a new one for using the ellipses...gasp, in the wrong way!...(Hi Mr. Loewer) but I guess we'll have to duke that one out in the parking lot after class.
I'm going to start by adding my writing assignments for this class I'm taking. Not because I think any of you really care to read about forced subject matter, but because it will give me a start, a kick in the ass, a return to feeling like I've contributed to the literary pool of the internet blog scene.
Enter the first assignment: 500 words on Brit Brit
I have to say that some of the ridiculous lifestyles and absurd choices I’ve watched my friends put together would lay the tabloid headlines of Britney Spears to shame. The folks I like to spend my time with are literally obsessed with juicy, drama-filled lives and think that divorcing their husband is a better alternative to teaching him how to kiss better. It seems like Britney’s custody battle and horrendous driving record pales in comparison to the scandalous things I’ve seen my friends pull off. This all makes me wonder if we’re reading Britney’s gossip to see how bizarre her life is, or if we’re just checking in to make sure the paparazzi would find our lives to be just as news-worthy.
As I’m standing in the longest line at the grocery store, just to make sure I can flip through each and every page of mouth-watering “Britney and friends” rumors, my boyfriend gives me that look. You know, the one that says I should be reading something worthy like National Geographic instead of drooling over the fact that Branjelina is pregnant with twins. I think he’s just scared that I secretly desire the life of four-thousand dollar purses, yappy little dogs, and fake boobs. The fact is, I like my quiet little life where I can sit back and watch my friends try to mimic the worst qualities of movie stars.
I was somehow blessed with parents that had a drama rating of negative three, which means that should I want to create drama in my own life, I would have a really hard time figuring out how. That’s why I have friends who let me listen to the “Oops, I did it again” single while telling me that they messed with their birth control so they could get pregnant.
I could fill the pages of a weekly magazine with the outlandish situations that my friends put themselves in. It leads me to believe that the gossip-laden newsstands aren’t that far from what I have here in my own backyard. In my everyday life, I’d put Britney’s mental breakdown in the category of normal. I mean, if my friends can flip out enough to pop xanax like candy, then I think that we should cut Britney some slack and thank our lucky stars that the camera’s aren’t after us and our bad haircuts, bald monkeys, and baby daddies.
I'm going to start by adding my writing assignments for this class I'm taking. Not because I think any of you really care to read about forced subject matter, but because it will give me a start, a kick in the ass, a return to feeling like I've contributed to the literary pool of the internet blog scene.
Enter the first assignment: 500 words on Brit Brit
I have to say that some of the ridiculous lifestyles and absurd choices I’ve watched my friends put together would lay the tabloid headlines of Britney Spears to shame. The folks I like to spend my time with are literally obsessed with juicy, drama-filled lives and think that divorcing their husband is a better alternative to teaching him how to kiss better. It seems like Britney’s custody battle and horrendous driving record pales in comparison to the scandalous things I’ve seen my friends pull off. This all makes me wonder if we’re reading Britney’s gossip to see how bizarre her life is, or if we’re just checking in to make sure the paparazzi would find our lives to be just as news-worthy.
As I’m standing in the longest line at the grocery store, just to make sure I can flip through each and every page of mouth-watering “Britney and friends” rumors, my boyfriend gives me that look. You know, the one that says I should be reading something worthy like National Geographic instead of drooling over the fact that Branjelina is pregnant with twins. I think he’s just scared that I secretly desire the life of four-thousand dollar purses, yappy little dogs, and fake boobs. The fact is, I like my quiet little life where I can sit back and watch my friends try to mimic the worst qualities of movie stars.
I was somehow blessed with parents that had a drama rating of negative three, which means that should I want to create drama in my own life, I would have a really hard time figuring out how. That’s why I have friends who let me listen to the “Oops, I did it again” single while telling me that they messed with their birth control so they could get pregnant.
I could fill the pages of a weekly magazine with the outlandish situations that my friends put themselves in. It leads me to believe that the gossip-laden newsstands aren’t that far from what I have here in my own backyard. In my everyday life, I’d put Britney’s mental breakdown in the category of normal. I mean, if my friends can flip out enough to pop xanax like candy, then I think that we should cut Britney some slack and thank our lucky stars that the camera’s aren’t after us and our bad haircuts, bald monkeys, and baby daddies.
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