Second day of classes. The first one was Intro. To Lit. with another of my favorite teachers. The guy is still as cheesy as ever—gotta love him. I really think I’m going to enjoy this class.
History, too. It’s going to be, as I expected, the same things we learned about in American History, except from the European point of view. So excited about that.
The Know-It-All guy (the one who lacks social skills) is in both History and Creative Writing with me now. Then in History there’s also this guy in the History class I dropped over the summer. He’s another of those nerds who doesn’t quite know how to get along with other people…in fact, I call him Gune, because he reminds me of that really weird and creepy little round alien from Titan A.E. Not only does he act like Gune, but he looks like him, too. It’s…scary.
So there’s the two of them. And Kara’s in there; she sits next to me. The teacher is so sweet; I love her, too. I like being in classes with three of my favorite teachers. It was really funny; about 95% of the class is from my high school.
I neglected to mention this yesterday, but The Third Wilson Brother asked me what I’m planning to do after this, my last semester at FSCJ, and when I told him I’m majoring in English lit., he said, “Oh, you’re going that route, huh?” And at first I thought he meant this in a bad way, but then he said, “That’s what I did, too. So you gonna join a fraternity, all that?”
“That sounds like fun,” I said. And I meant it. Joining a fraternity would be fun.
I feel really scatterbrained tonight. I’m not really staying in order of anything that happened…not really. Tonight, after the initial fight between the parental units had calmed a bit, I headed into the room, and Dad asked if I know what I’m planning to do with my future.
Well, for the first time ever, I’m sure. And I told him so.
He said, “If you want to be a writer, don’t you think you should be writing now?”
And for the first time ever, I could actually, legitimately defend myself.
“I do write,” I said, “it’s about all I do anymore.”
I felt bad when he said he’s never seen anything I write, and he’d like to. I mean, he is my dad…but I can’t show him or my mom this blog because of some of the content…. Just…no. And besides, I complain about him and Psychobrat on more than one occasion in it. So I just…didn’t say anything.
He asked, “What kinds of things do you want to write novels about?”
I wasn’t really sure how to answer that. Because some of the main ideas I have right now are autobiographical. And of course, I feel panicked every time I say that I want to be a writer, because I’ve never, ever believed that I’m really a good writer. I’m like…how the hell am I supposed to make it out there? I can’t! I can’t do it! I have self-esteem issues. I always have. But I know perfectly well that my ideas don’t extend past my own life—which shouldn’t be a problem, because I have plenty of stories about things that I’ve done, and things I’ve dreamt. I don’t know…I’m a good judge of character, yeah, but I’m not too versed in the ways of the world. That’s not good for one who wants to write novels, I wouldn’t think.
Of course, that’s not even going to be my main profession. I’m going to be a journalist; but even that worries me. Even though I got an A in that class, and I didn’t have much trouble with it…that was easy stuff. How will I continue to think up story ideas constantly? I mean, I can’t always rely on an editor to give me ideas, or…he or she would get frustrated with me quite quickly, I would imagine.
I stress a lot. It’s because I don’t believe I can do anything. Ever. I don’t know if I can ever change that mindset, because I’ve been this way for as long as I can recall.
So there’s this evil girl at work. Well–I don’t know that she’s really evil so much as just wannabe-evil. The comments she makes make it sound as though she’s trying. It’s quite annoying. Like tonight, while watching the news:
Evil Girl: I just remembered my step-sister was just going through Texas.
Me: Oh, my god—
Evil Girl: Oh, *laugh* I don’t care, I’m just saying….
I just turned around and went back to my dinner. But then I suddenly remembered that Bridget and Jason had been living in NO…so I called Bridget’s cell first thing when I got home tonight…and got some guy named Isaac, who very pleasantly told me that I must have the wrong number.
They probably weren’t there. They’re both in the Army now, I think. They’ve probably moved by now.
I dropped my Management class. It was unnecessary; and I’ll be getting money back for it. That’s more of a necessity now. Especially since one of my more substantial forms of monthly income is now gone—no more $120/month from Watson…the manager I worked for just quit.
I’m going to just start giving my parents all of my money, except what I pay for my car. They need it more than I do—besides, it’s really all theirs, anyway, when you figure in gas, cell phone, and…*sigh*…insurance.
I feel like Oliver Twist.