Writer's Block. Boo. (and not the Halloween "boo")

Writer’s block. I’m sitting here, Thursday night, at my computer thinking of a topic to write my next GWRIT paper on. An opinion editorial…I know that I have a lot of opinions on a lot of things. But as my mind fast-forwards to the weekend and fun, I cannot think about anything that will both interest all JMU students, as well as interest myself.

I like to write on things that I am passionate about. Topics that get my creative juices flowing, and the best thing about an op-ed is the fact that I can make it edgy and maybe even a tad bit sarcastic. And that’s exactly what I’m looking for. I don’t want to write about government, the tackiness of UGGs, or how things should be “my way or the highway.” I just want to write on something captivating, and maybe give a few people a chuckle or two when they read it.

I think in all my pickiness and my problem with settling for nothing but the best, I come to this awful mental shutdown known as writer’s block. It’s a terrible, terrible feeling. You feel like everything you want to say is at the tip of your tongue…but you don’t know the topic or the context. “I’m going to be cute, and witty, and some people are going to be saying, ‘oh my gosh, that is so true!’ when they read my paper.” Oh wait, no, I don’t even know what on God’s green earth I’m going to talk about.

Thus, in this confusing state of mental turmoil…I’ll dial up my dad. He’s always super supportive, and even if I’m just thinking out loud, he may be able to lead me to that exact thing that I want to write about.

So, to my dear Professor, when you read this I either did a really good job formulating a lot of thought on a topic VERY quickly…or I just came to you completely clueless, apologizing profusely for having an inactive brain. Well, it’s crunch time…it’s eleven o’clock pm, and Snuggles (my stuffed dog) is calling me to bed. I guess I’ll just lie awake in bed until, like the electricity coming back on after a long, dreadful storm, a light bulb turns on.

"Dear Birth Parents" Analysis

In the letter "Dear Birth Parents", the authors, a married couple with no children are presumably writing to possible parents that will give their child up for adoption. The occasion is to persuade the reader that they are a good choice of adoptive parents. The purpose is to inform the reader of who they are and why they have chosen to be adoptive parents. Their claim is to tell the reader that they are a good family to think about giving her child to. Their reasons are not as concise. They state that they have wanted a child for awhile, but God had different plans. They have experienced adoption first hand when Nate's brother was adopted and have seen what a blessing it is. And finally, their claim is supported by evidence. They discuss family backgrounds, their inability to have children of their own, and the reasons why they waited in the first place to have children. They acknowledge other points of view but in the conclusion state that they would love to get to know the reader as well and share with her their "passion for a family."

College-Party, study, is there anything else to it?

Ahhh, Sunday morning. A fresh start to the week and a new day! I wake up, stretch, look out the window and see a glorious crisp autumn day. I put on a bathrobe and walk down to the bathroom with a smile on my face. However, as I stand over the sink washing my face, I hear a “bluuuuuugghhhh”. A girl is throwing up in the stall beside me. I gag and quickly hurry out of my bathroom back into my room where I hide under my covers trying to get that terrible sound out of my head.

Why do weekends have to be filled with binge drinking and hangovers?

It’s really sad actually. I see it most for freshman who have this dream of college being one wild crazy ride that is nonstop fun. It makes me sad to think about college girls that come to JMU thinking that this will be the time of their lives. And with that mindset give so much of themselves away.

When I left for college I was excited about the new experience and finding new relationships. For many of my friends back home, they have found that it is not as fun as they had expected because they were looking for their identity in drinking, drugs, and sex. Many colleges and universities try to decrease alcohol abuse by informing their students about the effects of it. However, I, along with many other people have seen first hand what the effects are. And that may help inform, but I don’t think it gets to the root of the problem. People are looking for life and happiness in things that won’t get them there. And that, is what people need to see. They need to see that these temporary fixes are so empty in their promise that they will leave you worse off.

When the girls on my hall on Monday talk about where the party is on Thursday, I just wish and hope that someday they’ll find out there is so much more to life than these superficial things. College also gives us a chance to build relationships that can last forever and can build us into strong, intelligent, and respectable men and women.

Goodwill: Gross and Great all in One Place.

Goodwill. We all know it. That dingy looking store that appears like clothes are about to spill out of it. We’ve all donated to it, or known someone who has. It’s a place to dump that pantsuit with the shoulder pads (my mom), or in my case, get rid of that gosh awful pleather skirt from Limited Two. Funny, how there are never a lot of cars in Goodwill’s parking lot.

Tonight I am going to a dance party with Intervarsity. Theme: What Not To Wear. Despite the fact that I am not exactly the best dresser, I couldn’t find anything too outrageous in my closet (other than the orange and black leopard print leggings, but that’s for another day). So, I called up my best friend Jane and we headed to Goodwill.

When I first walked in the door, I was overwhelmed by the amount of junk in Goodwill. Old stained shirts, bright orange ball gowns, and Mennonite garb fill the racks. The next hour was filled with “Oh! Here you go Jane! This is the perfect jean jumper for your date next week!” and other such banter. Finally, I found the winner. A pant jumper thing, similar to the old Osh Kosh B’gosh overalls I wore when I was two. Who makes these things in girl’s XL? Even further, who even buys that in the first place? I ended up asking myself these same questions as I browse the Christmas vests, Go-Go boots, and Pooh sweatshirts.

I think the saddest part about it is, I actually left there with two “real” purchases, a sweatshirt and a jacket. I approach the cash register with Jane and the cashier could not decipher our joke purchases from our real purchases. As she stroked a piece of hair from her fake ponytail hairpiece out of her eyes with her long red nails she says “I love this hot pink dress with the rhinestone in the middle! I don’t know why this is what you wouldn’t wear! I love pink!” Jane and I bit our lips trying to hide our laughter.

You can find some great things at Goodwill. I think if I searched hard enough, I would find a few more things worth buying (at least for two bucks). Goodwill is just one of the great parts of American culture. Its throwing away things you don’t want, just to return to the place and buy other people’s junk.

Writing

I have done a variety of different writing assignments over the course of this year. They all differ so much in the style and personality. When writing narratives for this class, I have a point to make, an opinion that is my own. However, my other writing varies from this writing in many ways.

Weekly, I have a write-up for my psychology class. This is usually a high stress assignment in which I have to answer a prompt and support my claim with evidence from the textbook. Even though it is a lot of work, it helps me learn the material much better because I am applying theories and data into real life circumstances. In this work, I am simply reading a textbook and making my claim from research, not from any one idea I have a strong opinion on.

I also do some nonschool-related writing as well. I have a weird love for journals. I am always tempted to buy more even when I have plenty at home. In these journals I write numerous things. I write down day-to-day thoughts, prayers, quotes, or simply just doodle. This writing is what I call my “free spirit” writing. Sometimes its nonsensical, and it always lacks real purpose. In my free spirit writing, I just write whatever is on my mind, rather than pre-planning what I am going to say and how I am going to say it.

Home

I am driving in the car with my sister Melissa and her husband Kyle. I am sitting in the back seat of their van, with their dog Shay. Many smells have permeated the car, but the worst so far has been Shay’s gas. It really is intoxicating. But…I’ll take it any day, because I am headed back to Richmond, to my home.

This will be my first time home since I’ve come here to JMU. I don’t think I could be more excited. I’m almost curious to see how it will feel. Despite the close relationships I have with both of my parents, I have talked to them very little. I have this nervous, excited feeling you get when you haven’t seen someone in a very long time.

My parents and I have always been really close. My mom was a stay-at-home mom and we are best friends. She does everything she can for me and she is really like my home base. I feel safe and comfort whenever I am in her company. My dad is also my best friend. He always wants to hear everything I say, and is always excited about my life and what I am learning. He is so wise, and I could talk, and listen, to him for hours. I have missed my parents more than I ever thought I could.

Autumn is the best time in our house. I guess it’s because my mom puts so much time into decorating the house. I can picture my house right now. It makes me so excited. I walk up the sidewalk greeted by a large autumn wreath on the red front door. Stepping in to the house I am hit with the strong smell of my home. It is not a bad smell, its not a fragrant smell, its just a good smell…and I cannot wait to smell it. I see orange, brown, and tan Yankee candles in burning in every room. Passing the kitchen I am hit with the aroma of some amazing recipe my mom is cooking.

This weekend is going to be so fun. In about thirty minutes I have “girl’s night” with my mom and three sisters. Tomorrow we have a baby shower for my sister Melissa. It will be a great weekend. My family is home to me. And being brought back home, after a long time away, simply, makes a large smile spread across my face.