Badger Badger Badger.

Although I'm typically a bitcher and a whiner, I feel blessed for all the wonderful, irreplaceable things and people in my life. It is a fault of my own that I don't express my appreciation more, so here's a somewhat exhaustive list of some of the things, big and small, that I am so very fortunate to have, in no particular order. 

• My job. It's shit for money, but I enjoy it there. With the unemployment going on now, we should all be grateful to have jobs. My mindless part time job makes going to school possible for me. Well that, and all my student loans.
• My kitten, Rasputia. She's violent and destroys everything, but I love that little fluff so dearly.
• Financial Aid, especially grants. 
• My Brita Water Filtration Pitcher
• "Me Talk Pretty Someday" by David Sedaris -- one of my favorite books of all time. It's insanely funny and clever, and I love his "voice" as a writer.
• Melatonin
• Good coffee (like Kona, French Roast, etc.) and flavored creamers.
• Google Maps on my phone. I'll never be lost again.
• My parents, for their love and undying dedication to me and my siblings. And for all the cruel, abusive, and dysfunctional things they did when I was young that has made me all the wiser, yet crazier at the same time.
• Mineral makeup foundation, the loose powder variety. Wonderful stuff.
• adultswim.com <=== free cartoons, watch them. Especially The Venture Brothers, Metalocalypse, Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Also see www.southparkstudios.com, as I happen to think that South Park is the best, and possibly the smartest show ever made. 
• The Craigslist Lonely Ads, particularly the missed connections. Hours of quality entertainment.
• My lawyer
• I may be most grateful for my boyfriend. He is my best friend, my love, and my hero. I would be dead right now if he didn't come along.
• Of course, my siblings, who doesn't love their siblings??
• My knife

I don't usually think that book reviews and summaries make for very interesting writing, but I'm going for it anyway. A professor of one of my journalism classes recommended Making a Literary Life to me after I expressed my interest in exploring creative writing. A little background on me: I've had aspirations of being a writer/novelist for as long as I can remember. My Dad and I are voracious readers. I grew up reading all the classic novels and many famous works of literature passed down to me by my parents. I fell in love with Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women" when I was 9. I read that book dozens of times, staying up all night just to squeeze in a few more chapters.  After discovering this book, I knew for sure that I wanted to be a writer. I have always had a fear, however, that pursuing a career as a writer would be a completely impractical venture, and one that would inevitably lead to poverty and failure. My parents beat me over the head with their not-so-subtle reminders of, "You'll never succeed in life and get by as a writer." "How do you plan on supporting yourself like that? You better hope that you marry a doctor!" Or "You'd have better luck trying to make it as a starving artist."

So with that in mind, I chose journalism as my major, thinking it would be a more lucrative route to writing professionally. Yeah, I was really wrong about that. Silly, silly me. That and I absolutely despise journalism.

Anyway, about the book I read...
I was very pleased in reading Carolyn See's book, Making A Literary Life, as it offers a beacon of hope to self-doubting, aspiring writers such as myself. It's a very pragmatic, almost step-by-step guide to help writers with the goal in mind to get your novel (short story, memoirs) published.
Carolyn See begins with the process of becoming a writer and accepting yourself as one. She recommends that you "write with what you know"; to find your material from your own life. Fashion your characters from the real life people you know. Find your voice. Write 1,000 words each day, five days a week. Surround yourself with people that support you as a writer. Use positive affirmations.

Carolyn See also instructs on how to be more professional and how to try to engage in a sort of "courtship" with the writing world to help get your writing in it. She stresses the importance of networking, with everyone. Save every address, phone number, and email address. She also recommends that writers ALWAYS leave thank-you notes -- to other writers whose works you appreciate, to publishers after they reject your writing -- but to never beg or grovel.

In the second portion of the book, See covers various literary devices that writers must use in writing fiction -- character, plot, point of view, time, space, scene, place, and rewriting.

The last portion of the book instructs on how to save and plan to travel to New York City to get your novel published. See even gets into how to get grants (which you will need, choke, gag), what expenses you can deduct in your taxes, and how to throw a publishing party, to name a few.

Living a Literary Life doesn't try to give its readers false hope or romanticize being a professional writer. See notes that you will be rejected, probably countless times, but there are ways to be successful.
It may be a long shot for me, but you never know...

This may make me a tad bit shallow, but to me, the way a man dresses is crucial. I would never consider going out with someone who wore rhinestone-studded t-shirts, girl pants, and flip flops. Or the guys who wear sweats and flannel pajama pants everywhere, despite the place and occasion.
I'm appalled with the way children dress these days, particularly in the guys' department.
(When I say "children", I'm referring to the age bracket of about 12 to early 20's-ish. )

                             No more stupid hats, please.

It's all very strange to me because when I was growing up, boys wore baggy pants, rather than the gender-neutral "skinny" jean that freaking everyone wears now, including the skater kids. It's distressing. I just can't take a man in skin-tight pants seriously. It looks ridiculous.
                You know he didn't find those in the men's section.

Personally, I prefer men in slacks, collared shirts, dress shirts, etc. I really, really love a man in a nice suit and tie-- probably because it's such a rarity in the uber-casual, shorts-and-t-shirts Tucson.

Bad hygiene seems to be pretty trendy now, and I'm blaming it all on the hipsters. Some jackass along the line decided it was cool to stop showering, shaving, combing their hair, and wearing deodorant. What's worse is, women love these greasy, man-purse-carrying douche bags. At least the equally greasy, disheveled hipster girls do, anyway. What the hell is wrong with children these days?
                                                            
And all these scarves now, everywhere, even in the summertime? Now don't get me wrong, I love a good scarf. I have quite a few that I wear quite often... in the winter. When it's cold outside. Oh and, sorry again, straight guys, you just look silly in a scarf.
Don't even get me started on the vests.
Finally, everyone, please, put some shoes on. Torn, cracked heels and soles covered in that thick grime from flip-flopping around in the dusty streets of Tucson are just gross to look at. The thundering of your thousands of flip flops, clip-clopping all over campus at mid-day is simply maddening. Thank god for my iPod.

• Had my first, really fantastic Valentine's Day. Never thought I'd say that, considering most men are too afraid to indulge me in the schmaltzy, romantical stuff that is VD. You know, flowers, cards, what-have-you. Why is it so strange to men that I love flowers? For the love of god, did ya'll somehow overlook the fact that I have a huge fucking flower tattooed on my shoulder? Idiots. Anywho, my boyfriend DID get me flowers and slaved over an enormous, home-cooked dinner that was waiting for me when I got off work. It was so insanely adorable. He got pretty upset when his veggie medley/rice towers collapsed under the weight of the oozing hollandaise sauce. What a lucky girl I am.
•  Speaking of tattoos, I got my shoulder touched up last weekend and I'm very pleased with the results. 

Nothing brings people together quite like alcohol does. It's magical stuff, really. I've never seen people so willing to unite and put aside their differences unless raising a glass together.

I never had as many friends as I did when I was 21. I was going out at least four nights a week with pretty diverse cast of characters and having just a splendid time.  Frequenting dives and Fourth Avenue was such a novelty at that age and there was no better amusement. I was also a pretty slick bartender in that time, if I do say so myself, and I made a lot of money doing it. God how I miss that money.
Alcoholics have a real soft spot for bartenders. Knowing how to mix a stiff drink will win you instant popularity points with virtually everyone, I learned.
 And then, drinking got old for me. Really old. I realized my love affair with alcohol was over spring break of 2008. I was out with the usual suspects at one of our old favorite drinking holes, with the intent to get drunk and act a fool, per usual. With my first taste of beer that night, I had a single moment's clarity. I realized I had no desire to drink anymore, much less get wasted. I hate being drunk. I hate the dull, mindless people at bars, who for whatever reason all look like the same person to me. I hate alcohol. I hate the bad music scene at bars (thanks again, hipsters for ruining everything). I hate hangovers. I hate drunk people. I hate the wasted time.
 So, I promptly went home and contentedly stayed in for the rest of break.

  Since then, I even tried forcing myself to enjoy drinking again, but to no avail. While my closest friends were experiencing a similar phenomenon as my own, the rest and larger part of my circle didn't stop. They still go out several nights a week, getting wasted, doing the same old shenanigans they've always done. People like their routines. It's comforting for them.

My taste for drinking has left me, and I don't miss it. It's funny how many people will stop calling once you tell them you you're not a big drinker anymore.