Here is the first product of my creative writing English class. In this activity we were to write a scene that had a memory within it.

I left the house late, a quarter to five and the sun was just setting. I opened the old Ford pick-up’s peeling handle and swung one leg inside. Using the steering wheel as a balance, I hoisted my other leg into the cab and just sat for a moment, eyes closed, air leaving my lungs heavy. I could remember her sitting next to me. Pale yellow sundress, red bow in her hair, a supple smile turned towards me. The glitter of her laugh touched me as if raindrops were kissing my balding head. Harsh wind blew into the cab from the still opened door, whisking her away too. I opened my slow, tired eyes without rush and sighed deeply, turning the key in the ignition.

As I have learned, every Tuesday we will be turning in a short story (no more that 4 ages in length). While every Thursday we will be bringing in a single scene. So I should be posting rapidly this semester!

Love from Pullman,

The Blonde and the Bullshit

I think that I have come to the realization that this is mostly an online journal. And if someone does decide to read it, it'll be as if they accidentally came across it and flipped through. 

With that in mind, I will soon begin posting stories or poems of my own. Some will be from one of my two English classes while some may not. As an English major, I am very excited to have two English classes as I enter my fall semester of sophomore year, one with an emphasis on creative writing. 

I am not entirely sure what I hope to gain from this. However, I believe that this is the best way to archive my writing and, for better or worse, it will be cemented within the internet for any casual passerby to flip through.

Love from Pullman,

The Blonde and the Bullshit

P.S. Either for my future self or for anyone else, if you are having a bad day just go to YouTube and type in: Miley Cyrus 2013 VMAs. After seeing them last night I guarantee you will realize how thankful you are that you are not her.