R&F: Stray Snowballs

Reflection: In this (rare) time of my life, I can remember not caring about too much. I didn’t care about the way I looked, sometimes felt, or about what I was doing with my life. I miss this feeling often, but I know how important it is to grow up and seek direction. I was content with who I was and what I was doing, and I hadn’t been diagnosed with cold urticaria or seasonal affective disorder yet. I admire the strength I carried with me, and my use of metaphors and imagery (“a hot knife cutting through butter”- that’s … Continue reading R&F: Stray Snowballs

Writing: 12 DOG

Today is officially a holiday, but I planned the series this way. Writers don’t take days off, unless we suffer from a deadly case of a creative block. I would honestly rather get the flu than writer’s block. And to tie everything together, on this 12th day of gratitude, I am going to express my love for writing (as if you didn’t already know). Summary of my writing life: Fourth grade: We would write as a class nearly everyday for an hour. I first discovered what a true passion felt like when I would experience a deep sadness every time … Continue reading Writing: 12 DOG

Eighteen

I am turning eighteen years old. This is one of those “milestone” birthdays, even though every year you survive another revolution on this earth should be celebrated as a milestone. Eighteen is a big number for a girl who still remembers the outfit she wore to her cousin’s play when she was six years old (my fashion sense in 2004 was remarkable). Eighteen means something. It’s an adult number. I even have to get my license renewed. Compared to the little hill of seventeen, eighteen feels like a mountain. This is the year I graduate high school. This is the … Continue reading Eighteen