Baseball is the love of my life.

It has been quite a bit since I last wrote a post. All of the sudden finals, moving, work…life in general got in the way. I have been home for a week and a half and it has been wonderful. I am nearly unpacked. It may take all summer to get my room entirely organized, but that is one of my goals for the entire season. I have been meaning to clean out my closet for two years, but I haven’t been at home for an extended period of time for about that long. I love the quiet around here. I love the fact that I can sleep with my windows open on weekends and not have to worry about being woken up by the drunks at two thirty in the morning. Ah, college campuses. I love that I can bike all around town and not have to worry about traffic. Either me running into a pedestrian, another bike, or getting run over by a car. I love that I don’t hear police, fire, or ambulance sirens on a daily basis.  I hate that the internet stopped working temporarily and erased the rest of the post I just wrote. 

The end of another semester is near…

I turned in my final drafts of the two stories I’ve been working on a few hours ago.  That means I am officially finished with my Intermediate Fiction Writing class.  It is the last week of classes this week, but we didn’t meet for our usual Monday night class.  Instead, the instructor told us to drop our stories off at a place called the Kitty Kat Club, which is a bar in the Dinkytown area near the University I attend.  Originally she was going to have us all meet there and “hang out” together as a class, before she realized that would be forced socializing and we wouldn’t like that.  So she told us she would be there from 6:20 until 7:30 having a drink and possibly eating something fried, and we were free to join her if we’d like.  I liked the class and learned a lot about my own writing process.  It is hard to revise and “kill the darlings” of my work.  (I believe she told us Faulkner coined that phrase.)  I am glad I took the course, even though the main reason I registered for it in the fall has since fallen away.  (I was going to take the senior seminar course on creative writing, but they aren’t offering the fiction option until next spring and I really want to write my senior paper this fall.)  Since I do want to write fiction one day, taking fiction writing classes do help, despite the despair one feels after meeting with your instructor about all the work that needs to be done on the story you just wrote.  I told my roommate that it felt as though I just dropped off my babies into the mouths of the wolves.  I’m not overly dramatic at all.