The Epic Frustration of Taking an Online Creative Writing Course With the Dean of Women and an Assortment of Friendless Homeschooled Girls

I am taking a creative writing course online this semester and I find myself enjoying it--really. I have only a short list of complaints.

1. The course is being taught by the Dean of Women who will call me into her office and offer me harsh "guidance" if she deems any of my content inappropriate. The trick is figuring out what the heck "inapproriate" means.

2. It is a fourteen week course which we are shoving into eight. Thus, we have work due EVERY SINGLE FREAKING DAY!!!! This is more work than I have to do for any of my other classes.

3. The other seven people in my class are all girls except for one. I have never gotten along with girls. Plus the other seven people in my class are all good writers....they just do not write about new and interesting things. Now, every topic which I write about may not be an opening to the window of the unknown--but I do try to put a new spin on things.

Writing prompt Wednesday: Write about something your family wittnessed together but you must write from the point of view of someone else in your family.

EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE CLASS WROTE ABOUT THEIR MUM!!!
I wrote about my great-grandmum.

For Friday: Write a short story involving three people.

Girl 1. Wrote about three little girls who got scared at a sleepover--ok, whatever, I can deal with that.
Girl 2. Wrote a weird fantasy piece about a girl who turns into a tree when her best friend disses her--It was weird, it was hard to understand, and I didn't really like the characters or get to know them very well.
Girl 3. Wrote about an old man who dies in a house full of cats while one cat in particular tries to comfort him--my first thought after reading this thing was "Oh my goodness, that is truly disgusting." Maybe it's because I hate cats and I'm not a huge fan of old people....but the piece really grossed me out. It wasn't badly written, it was just a really ew ew ew ew ewww thing to write about....and not in a good way. I can totally take gross, death, violence--but not that. Last week my friend wrote me a piece about a kid who electrocuted himself in the bathtub with a toaster--I loved it. It was emotional and well written. The thing about the cats and the old man was simply disgusting. The other girls in the class left these comments, "This was really interesting. I loved how you characterized the cat. It was really sweet.", "I really enjoyed this. I love cats and it's so cool how they know when you're sick or something. ", and "This was such a nice piece of work. I loved the character of the cat..." When I finished reading the piece, my first reaction was regretting ever reading it because I was now stuck with all these images of hundreds of cats eating the carcass of an old man when they ran out of food and his neighbors hadn't missed him yet. It was disgusting and the rest of the class thought it was cute....Somehow--I don't get it.

I wrote about a personal experience (though I didn't tell anyone else that) where I met one of my very good friends. He came up to me and told me that we should be friends and I agreed (alright facebook had been involved beforehand but still...), we went out for coffee, and bonding took place. It really happened. I made it emotional, relateable, and I wrote it in his words exactly as I could picture him saying them. The theme was the mystery of such an instant, bonding friendship. Granted--it was not one of my best works. It was not even one of my good works, but I didn't feel that it was terrible.

Cat Girl is the only one to have commented on my work thus far. She said,
-My character wasn't mysterious enough
-The situation was too awkward
-No one is really that bold to just walk up to a girl and tell them that they should be friends and ask her to coffee, and if it did happen, no girl would say yes.

I sort of felt as though this girl didn't get the point of my story. The mystery was the friendship--not the character. The situation was SUPPOSED to be awkward. AND OBVIOUSLY PEOPLE ARE BOLD ENOUGH TO WALK UP TO A GIRL AND ASK HER TO BE FRIENDS AND DO COFFEE BECAUSE IT FREAKIN HAPPENED TO ME!!!!! AND I SAID YES!!!!

Aside from that--she wrote about an old man who died in a house full of cats and it grossed me out. It makes me wonder a little if she has any friends.

Not Extinct

I dread cleaning up after Christmas.

I hate having to put away all the ridiculous lights and breakable objects, load them all back into boxes, and get them up the ladder into the attic. It's a pain in the butt to put it lightly. Usually I make plans to be out of the house the day after new years in order to avoid this irritating and painful annual chore.

This morning I was the only one home.

I climbed up the allergen-covered ladder to the attic and began to throw boxes down to the floor. Behind the boxes was a surprise!!!

I FOUND A DINOSAUR BEAN BAG CHAIR!!!!

How awesome! I totally didn't know my attic contained such wonders. I hauled it out and spent the next hour covering its holes with duck tape, vaccuuming the cover, and scrubbing it with Resolve.

Can anyone say--"Happy College Student?"

Bean bag chairs are magic for dorm rooms. They stow in a corner and can be dragged out for visitors or intense chill time.