Bailing on my last blog attempt. I was never happy with it. I was bored writing it, you were bored reading it. I've moved on.
Chatting with my mother today on The Facebook, she commented on the pictures of me all dressed up for school. You look nice, she told me, but you don't really look like you. Which is about the same as the last blog. It looked nice, but it wasn't really me. All the David Copperfield crap. I'm slightly more Holden.
There's a lot of pressure to write well when you hold a degree in Creative Writing. Suddenly every little spelling error or wrong verb tense or misused semi-colon is an affront to your competence. Also, I have the added pressure of being considered a funny person. Unfortunately, I find that the more humorous I try to make my writing, the less funny it actually is. The funniest thing I ever brought into a writing class in college was a heart wrenching retelling of a childhood trauma. One girl claimed to have literally cried laughing while reading it aloud to her roommate. I was horrified. Apparently the embarrassing, scarring moments of my youth were hilarious. And they are.
Since people who strive to be funny rarely ever are, I will not try to be funny. I will not try to imbue the events here with any needless additional humor. I will tell things as they are and as they happened. Therefore I will not be held responsible if they are or are not comical.
Now that the pressure is placed anywhere but on my too broad shoulders...let's do this.
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