So... we've gotta pick some songs...

Alright, so for my assignment I've decided to borrow my professor's idea- writing about songs by Eminem and how they reflect domestic abuse. When in doubt, copy your professor. If I listened to more meaningful music, I'm sure I'd have much better ideas haha.

Anyway, I've picked 3 songs to go with:

"'97 Bonnie And Clyde"

Just the two of us.. [8X]

[Eminem]
Baby your da-da loves you (hey)
And I'ma always be here for you (hey) no matter what happens
You're all I got in this world
I would never give you up for nothin
Nobody in this world is ever gonna keep you from me
I love you

C'mon Hai-Hai, we goin to the beach
Grab a couple of toys and let da-da strap you in the car seat
Oh where's mama? She's takin a little nap in the trunk
Oh that smell (whew!) da-da musta runned over a skunk
Now I know what you're thinkin - it's kind of late to go swimmin
But you know your mama, she's one of those type of women
that do crazy things, and if she don't get her way, she'll throw a fit
Don't play with da-da's toy knife, honey, let go of it (no!)
And don't look so upset, why you actin bashful?
Don't you wanna help da-da build a sand castle? (yeah!)
And mama said she wants to show how far she can float
And don't worry about that little boo-boo on her throat
It's just a little scratch - it don't hurt, her was eatin
dinner while you were sweepin and spilled ketchup on her shirt
Mama's messy isn't she? We'll let her wash off in the water
and me and you can pway by ourselves, can't we?

Just the two of us.. [2X]
And when we ride!
Just the two of us.. [2X]
Just you and I!
Just the two of us.. [2X]
And when we ride!
Just the two of us.. [2X]
Just you and I!

See honey.. there's a place called heaven and a place called hell
A place called prison and a place called jail
And da-da's probably on his way to all of em except one
Cause mama's got a new husband and a stepson
And you don't want a brother do ya? (Nah)
Maybe when you're old enough to understand a little better
I'll explain it to ya
But for now we'll just say mama was real real bad
She was bein mean to dad and made him real real mad
But I still feel sad that I put her on time-out
Sit back in your chair honey, quit tryin to climb out (WAHH!)
I told you it's okay HaiHai, wanna ba-ba? 
Take a night-night? Nan-a-boo, goo-goo ga-ga?
Her make goo-goo ca-ca? Da-da change your dia-dee
Clean the baby up so her can take a nighty-nighty
Your dad'll wake her up as soon as we get to the water
Ninety-seven Bonnie and Clyde, me and my daughter

Just the two of us.. [2X]
And when we ride!
Just the two of us.. [2X]
Just you and I!
Just the two of us.. [2X]
And when we ride!
Just the two of us.. [2X]
Just you and I!

Wake up sweepy head we're here, before we pway
we're gonna take mama for a wittle walk along the pier
Baby, don't cry honey, don't get the wrong idea
Mama's too sweepy to hear you screamin in her ear (ma-maa!)
That's why you can't get her to wake, but don't worry
Da-da made a nice bed for mommy at the bottom of the lake
Here, you wanna help da-da tie a rope around this rock? (yeah!)
We'll tie it to her footsie then we'll roll her off the dock
Ready now, here we go, on the count of free..
One.. two.. free.. WHEEEEEE! (whoooooshhhhh)
There goes mama, spwashin in the wa-ta
No more fightin wit dad, no more restraining order
No more step-da-da, no more new brother
Blow her kisses bye-bye, tell mama you love her (mommy!)
Now we'll go play in the sand, build a castle and junk
But first, just help dad with two more things out the trunk

Just the two of us.. [2X]
And when we ride!
Just the two of us.. [2X]
Just you and I!
Just the two of us.. [2X]
And when we ride!
Just the two of us.. [2X]
Just you and I!

Just the two of us.. [4X]

[Eminem]
Just me and you baby
is all we need in this world
Just me and you
Your da-da will always be there for you
Your da-da's always gonna love you
Remember that
If you ever need me I will always be here for you
If you ever need anything, just ASK
Da-da will be right there
Your da-da loves you
I love you baby

"Kim"

[Eminem]
Aww look at daddy's baby girl
That's daddy baby
Little sleepy head
Yesterday I changed your diaper
Wiped you and powdered you.
How did you get so big?
Can't believe it now your two
Baby you're so precious
Daddy's so proud of you
Sit down bitch
If you move again I'll beat the shit out of you

[Eminem]
(Eminem as Kim)
(Okay)
Don't make me wake this baby
She don't need to see what I'm about to do
Quit crying bitch, why do you always make me shout at you?
How could you?
Just leave me and love him out the blue
Oh, what's a matter Kim?
Am I too loud for you?
Too bad bitch, your gonna finally hear me out this time
At first, I'm like all right
You wanna throw me out? That's fine!
But not for him to take my place, are you out you're mind?
This couch, this TV, this whole house is mine!
How could you let him sleep in our bed?
Look at Kim
Look at your husband now!
(No!)
I said look at him!
He ain't so hot now is he?
Little punk!
(Why are you doing this?)
Shut the fuck up!
(You're drunk! You're never going to get away at this!)
You think I give a fuck!
Come on we're going for a ride bitch
(No!)
Sit up front
(Well I can't just leave Hailie alone, what if she wakes up?)
We'll be right back
Well I will you'll be in the trunk

[1] - So long, bitch you did me so wrong
I don't wanna go on
Living in this world without you

[Repeat 1]

You really fucked me Kim
You really did a number on me
Never knew me cheating on you would come back to haunt me
But we was kids then Kim, I was only 18
That was years ago
I thought we wiped the slate clean
That's fucked up!
(I love you!)
Oh God my brain is racing
(I love you!)
What are you doing?
Change the station I hate this song!
Does this look like a big joke?
(No!)
There's a four year old boy lyin' dead with a slit throat
In your living room, ha-ha
What you think I'm kiddin' you?
You loved him didn't you?
(No!)
Bullshit you bitch don't fucking lie to me
What the fuck's this guy's problem on the side of me?
Fuck you asshole, yeah bite me
Kim, KIM!
Why don't you like me?
You think I'm ugly don't you
(It's not that!)
No you think I'm ugly
(Baby)
Get the fuck away from me, don't touch me
I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!
I SWEAR TO GOD I HATE YOU
OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU
How the fuck could you do this to me?
(Sorry!)
How the fuck could you do this to me?

[Repeat 1 (2x)]

Come on get out
(I can't I'm scared)
I said get out bitch!
(Let go of my hair, please don't do this baby)
(Please I love you, look we can just take Hailie and leave)
Fuck you, you did this to us
You did it, it's your fault
Oh my God I'm crackin' up
Get a grip Marshall
Hey remember the time we went to Brian's party?
And you were like so drunk that you threw up all over Archie
That was funny wasn't it?
(Yes!)
That was funny wasn't it?
(Yes!)
See it all makes sense, doesn't it?
You and your husband have a fight
One of you tries to grab a knife
And during the struggle he accidentally gets his Adam's apple sliced
(No!)
And while this is goin' on
His son just woke up and he just walks in
She panics and he gets his throat cut
(Oh my God!)
So now they both dead and you slash your own throat
So now it's double homicide and suicide with no note
I should have known better when you started to act weird
We could've...HEY! Where you going? Get back here!
You can't run from me Kim
It's just us, nobody else!
You're only making this harder on yourself
Ha! Ha! Got'cha!
(Ahh!)
Ha! Go ahead yell!
Here I'll scream with you!
AH SOMEBODY HELP!
Don't you get it bitch, no one can hear you?
Now shut the fuck up and get what's comin to you
You were supposed to love me
{*Kim choking*}
NOW BLEED! BITCH BLEED!
BLEED! BITCH BLEED! BLEED!

[Repeat 1 (2x)]

"Love The Way You Lie"
(feat. Rihanna)

[Chorus - Rihanna:]
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

[Eminem]
I can't tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now it's a steel knife in my windpipe
I can't breathe but I still fight while I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight
High off of love, drunk from my hate,
It's like I'm huffing paint and I love it the more I suffer, I suffocate
And right before I'm about to drown, she resuscitates me
She fucking hates me and I love it.
Wait! Where you going?
"I'm leaving you"
No you ain't. Come back we're running right back.
Here we go again
It's so insane cause when it's going good, it's going great
I'm Superman with the wind at his back, she's Lois Lane
But when it's bad it's awful, I feel so ashamed I snapped
Who's that dude? I don't even know his name
I laid hands on her, I'll never stoop so low again
I guess I don't know my own strength

[Chorus - Rihanna:]
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

[Eminem]
You ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe
When you're with 'em
You meet and neither one of you even know what hit 'em
Got that warm fuzzy feeling
Yeah, them chills you used to get 'em
Now you're getting fucking sick of looking at 'em
You swore you'd never hit 'em; never do nothing to hurt 'em
Now you're in each other's face spewing venom in your words when you spit them
You push, pull each other's hair, scratch, claw, hit 'em
Throw 'em down, pin 'em
So lost in the moments when you're in them
It's the rage that took over it controls you both
So they say you're best to go your separate ways
Guess if they don't know you 'cause today that was yesterday
Yesterday is over, it's a different day
Sound like broken records playing over but you promised her
Next time you show restraint
You don't get another chance
Life is no Nintendo game
But you lied again
Now you get to watch her leave out the window
Guess that's why they call it window "pain"

[Chorus - Rihanna:]
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

[Eminem]
Now I know we said things, did things that we didn't mean
And we fall back into the same patterns, same routine
But your temper's just as bad as mine is
You're the same as me
But when it comes to love you're just as blinded
Baby, please come back
It wasn't you, baby it was me
Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is I love you too much to walk away though
Come inside, pick up your bags off the sidewalk
Don't you hear sincerity in my voice when I talk
Told you this is my fault
Look me in the eyeball
Next time I'm pissed, I'll lay my fist at the drywall
Next time. There won't be no next time
I apologize even though I know its lies
I'm tired of the games I just want her back
I know I'm a liar
If she ever tries to fucking leave again
Im'a tie her to the bed and set this house on fire
I'm just gonna

[Chorus - Rihanna:]
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

the Plunge

Self Reflection

1.) I'd like to think that I hit MLA as best as I could

2.) The title "the Plunge" just kinda jumped out at me once I scored it over again, trying to work it out into what would become my final draft. What with the jumping and all... it sounded serious and a great way to get across just how I felt about my situation within my group.

3.) I could improve the essay by doing a lot of things, I'm not the best writer in the world. I had to re-write a lot of things from how it started and add some sentences here and there, but there is a lot more to this essay that I would love to put down when I have the time.

4.) Honestly, I don't want for my struggle to come across to the reader- but the warmth I felt when I finally confided in someone whom I thought would reject me instantly, but instead returned with open arms of affection. I don't know if anyone else but me got that, but I really hope so.

5.) Again, lots of things are wrong with this draft. I'm afraid that I don't possess the capacity as a writer to put the entirety of the story that is to text. I should have explained more, I should have gone in deeper with my struggle.

6.) If I went into what we did over the Beach Retreat a little more, I think that readers would have understood a little bit more of what exactly we did (and how fun of a time we had). Instead of summarizing them, I really should have divulged more.

7.) As I said before, I'd like to think that the significance was pretty easy to see at the end. Tacked on, maybe a little, but still significant.

8.) I'll admit that I should have given more back story in my final draft. Some things just didn't come across like I'd expected them to before the deadline was upon me, but others came out really nicely. The opening paragraphs are my favourite part of the whole story.

9.) I jumped from my introduction to my body paragraphs with "When most people talk to God...", and my professor commented on that. While I like it, and some others may as well, I'll admit that it's not smooth, or at least not as smooth as it should be.

So here's my final draft of my narrative. Not much has changed, I'll admit, but I'd like to think that some any questions that need answering (at least some of them anyway) will be taken care of in my response. Please enjoy.

***

Luke Gilbert
Professor Thomas
Composition 1
09/12/12

the Plunge

There was only one word going through my head at the time.

And that word was "jump"

Standing on the twelfth floor balcony of a luxurious ocean-side hotel, splattering myself over the pavement far below me should have been the last thing on my mind. I had never done anything like this before, never ventured out and certainly never hung myself out to dry like I had those past four days. It seemed so simple, the logic so clean, at that moment in time that I actually considered getting onto the railing that separated me from my great plummet and following through with it.

When most people talk to God, they get a variety of answers. I know a guy, a great guy, who swears up and down that God told him to be a Youth Minister. Devoted Christian his entire life, he’d be really good at it. I know another who has overcome great trials and impossible struggle through the strength of her faith, been baptized two years. I knew, and still know, that it isn't a numbers game when it comes to how long you've been a member of your community-- the quality of those years spent always trumps the quantity. What you feel like you’re compelled to do when your God asks you to.

Me? I'd been attending my church for 2 years at the time coming from a non-religious family, having never spent more than two nights away from home, still trying to wrap my head around the concept of recreational church attendance and finding significance in it. In those two years, I'd come to love and appreciate a community that I included myself in wholeheartedly. In many ways, I felt an acceptance that was absent in my life before then, so much so that I didn't particularly mind the differences in religion. I felt so accepted at the time that I was willing to go on a four-day trip to the beach in frigid December to participate in our annual Winter Beach Retreat. The only problem being that, as a non-religious person, I had an understandable sense of not belonging on a purely religious excursion.

However, despite that, I battled intensely with my own beliefs, trying to emulate all the wise words of Pastor Jackson while hiding my conflict from rest of my church and remain a positive atmosphere within the group. Nevertheless, I felt pretty low.

But you have to understand, I had heard amazing things about the Beach Retreat. Another good friend of mine had become a Christian the year before at the same event along with several others. And everyone described it as a moment of such clarity, an epiphany that was impossible to ignore. It sounded perfect to a skeptic who wanted nothing more than redemption, someone for whom all else had failed. So I resigned to myself that if it, that magic moment I had been searching for, was ever going to happen that it would happen there. On a cold sandy beach, that was where my rebirth was to take place.

And I did witness amazing things over the course of the trip. Eight people were baptized out there, in the freezing salty ocean, as a testament to their faith and devotion to their God. I was jealous of that closeness, that sense of connection they must have had with God. A classmate of mine, whom I had a hand in coaxing towards our community, was one of the first baptized; I thought to myself, "Why not me?"

So amidst the longest, coldest, wettest days of my life, I redoubled my efforts to become a Christian.

Where I had been attempting to connect with my peers on a spiritual level already and for quite some time, I bolstered those attempts like never before. I led small student groups where I could, but otherwise I just sat back and absorbed everything I could. However as time passed and questions went unanswered still, I was felt dejected. All around me, people were getting saved and baptized left and right. Heart wrenching testimonies and tears of joy flooded from all directions-- and there I was in the middle of it all, I just couldn't get it. I felt ignored, betrayed, and above all I felt forgotten.

On the third night of our retreat, I snuck out of bed and tiptoed out onto the balcony (for fear of my assigned room mates or counsellors hearing me) for some fresh air. I couldn't sleep, and all I really wanted to do was feel sorry for myself. I did what anyone else would do in my situation, I prayed. Prayed for answers, I prayed for a sign, I prayed for something that I couldn't denounce or rationalize in any other way than the absolute path to righteousness.

And I got "jump."

Not as in "up and down", as in "from the railing"

Needless to say, I didn't. Nor would I, though I did contemplate it for a moment. I went home sad and bitter from my experience at the Retreat. Though, who could I tell the truth to? What would they think? That I was crazy? Suicidal? How could I possibly explain that one, I wasn't a Christian, and two that I was told to jump off of a hotel balcony by a voice inside my head that I thought was God? It turned me off of my church for a long time afterwords. I started bringing other people with me to avoid long drives home where I felt like a hypocrite and a monster.

It would take me a whole year to even be able to discuss my struggle with anyone. A dear friend(ironically, the one who started my church regime three years earlier) insisted that I go to our pastor . However, after much deliberation, I divulged him in the entire truth. I was met with open arms and noncircumstantial acceptance.

He sat me down and told me about how much he had seen me grow since I had first walked through the doors, not just in age but in depth. He admired my integrity and told me that, despite whatever hangups I was experiencing, he was still proud of me and whom I had become. We talked for a long time, me asking questions and him answering them the best he could, before concluding in a prayer.

And I realized, after having just recounted a severe crisis of would-be faith, that my struggle has been a long one: three years and counting with this event serving as the most drastic. In that time, I have evolved from an extroverted attention-seeker (in all the wrong ways) to a tolerant, though agnostic, person- feeling bad for trying to change myself for a group that loved me anyway. While I continue to grow every day, hopefully towards the right direction, I know now that I am a part of something greater than myself, hopefully something that one day I will come to understand as a whole.

the Plunge

I didn't post this in time to make the grade (I'm really sorry about that, Professor) but I won't deny my partner the opportunity to get his grade. So here's my rough draft, unedited. Enjoy, it's kinda personal...

***

There was only one word going through my head at the time.

And that word was "jump"

Standing on the twelfth floor balcony of a luxurious ocean-side hotel, splattering myself over the pavement far below me should have been the last thing on my mind. I had never done anything like this before, never ventured out and certainly never hung myself out to dry like I had those past four days. It seemed so simple, the logic so clean, at that moment in time that I actually considered getting onto the railing that separated me from my great plummet and following through with it.

When most people talk to God, they get a variety of answers. I know a guy, a great guy, who swears up and down that God told him to be a Youth Minister. Devoted Christian his entire life. I know another who has overcome great trials and impossible struggle through the strength of her faith, been baptized two years. I knew, and still know, that it isn't a numbers game when it comes to how long you've been a member of your community-- the quality of those years spent always trumps the quantity.

Me? I'd been attending my church for 2 years at the time coming from a non-religious family, having never spent more than two nights away from home, still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. In those two years, I'd come to love and appreciate a community that I included myself in wholeheartedly. So much so that I was willing to go on a four-day trip to the beach in frigid December to participate in our annual Winter Beach Retreat. The only problem being that, as a non-religious person, I had an understandable sense of not belonging.

However, despite that, I battled intensely with my own beliefs, trying to emulate all the wise words of Pastor Jackson while hiding my conflict from rest of my church and remain a positive atmosphere within the group. Nevertheless, I felt pretty low. 

But you have to understand, I had heard amazing things about the Beach Retreat. Another good friend of mine had become a Christian the year before at the same event along with several others. And everyone described it as a moment of such clarity, an epiphane that was impossible to ignore. It sounded perfect to a skeptic who wanted nothing more than redemption, someone for whom all else had failed. So I resigned to myself that if it, that magic moment I had been searching for, was ever going to happen that it would happen there. On a cold sandy beach, that was where my rebirth was to take place.

And I did witness amazing things over the course of the trip. Eight people were baptized out there, in the freezing salty ocean, as a testament to their faith and devotion to their God. I was jealous of that closeness, that sense of connection they must have had with God. A classmate of mine, whom I had a hand in coaxing towards our community, was one of the first baptized; I thought to myself, "Why not me?"

So amidst the longest, coldest, wettest days of my life, I redoubled my efforts to become a Christian.

Where I had been attempting to connect with my peers on a spiritual level already and for quite some time, I bolstered those attempts like never before. I led small student groups where I could, but otherwise I just sat back and absorbed everything I could. However as time passed and questions went unanswered still, I was felt dejected. All around me, people were getting saved and baptized left and right. Heartwrenching testimonies and tears of joy flooded from all directions-- and there I was in the middle of it all, looking like I was trying to do Calculus in my head.

On the third night of our retreat, I snuck out of bed and tiptoed out onto the balcony (for fear of my assigned room mates or counsellors hearing me) for some fresh air. I couldn't sleep, and all I really wanted to do was feel sorry for myself. I did what anyone else would do in my situation, I prayed. Prayed for answers, I prayed for a sign, I prayed for something that I couldn't denounce or misclassify.

And I got "jump."

Needless to say, I didn't. Nor would I, though I did contemplate it for a moment. I went home sad and bitter from my experience at the Retreat. Though, who could I tell the truth to? What would they think? That I was crazy? Suicidal? How could I possibly explain that one, I wasn't a Christian, and two that I was told to jump off of a hotel balcony by a voice inside my head that I thought was God? It turned me off of my church for a long time afterwords, I started bringing other people with me to avoid long drives home where I felt like a hypocrite and a monster.

It would take me a whole year to even be able to discuss my struggle with anyone other than a dear friend of mine (ironically, the one who started my church regime three years earlier), and even then I was reluctant to discuss any of it with my pastor. However, after much deliberation, I divulged him in the entire truth. I was met with open arms and noncircumstantial acceptance. 

He sat me down and told me about how much he had seen me grow since I had first walked through the doors, not just in age but in depth. He admired my integrity and told me that, despite whatever hangups I was experiencing, he was still proud of me and whom I had become. We talked for a long time, me asking questions and him answering them the best he could, before concluding in a prayer.

And I realized, after having just recounted a severe crisis of would-be faith, that my struggle has been a long one: three years and counting with this event serving as the most drastic. In that time, I have evolved from an extroverted attention-seeker (in all the wrong ways) to a tolerant, though agnostic, person whom earnestly wants the best for everyone around him- feeling bad for trying to change myself for a group that loved me anyway. 

The Literary Navigator

Alright, so as part two of my "Get These Posts Done Before Class Tomorrow" special event, I'm also going to post my basic free write from class last Friday.

---

When I was a kid, I lived in Arizona.

There was this guy who lived under the overpass (the name of the street I cannot recall, unfortunately). Everyone called him the Navigator, my mother and I (non-locals) included. He had few possessions, being homeless, and tended to keep to himself. However, people were very kind to him and often gave him money. He had an umbrella to keep off the sun (hot) and the rain (rare), and plastic wrap to keep off the (sometimes) harsh winds. He and his dog lived simple lives, of which I had yet to notice.

My Mom asked me one day, my first time actually going over his home, what I thought about him.

I was eight, sheltered and spoiled, and while I don't remember my exact response I'm sure it was something snotty and ungrateful (as most eight year olds are.)

My Mother kindly, though sternly, informed me of his entire life story. He was a professor who had lost everything in a horrible divorce. Not a drunk, nor a junkie as I had (no doubt) presumed. He was a good man, my mother told me, and deserved my respect regardless of social status or earthly possessions. In a dual lesson, my Mother taught me respect and tolerance through the unlikely source that was the Navigator.

---

Soooo... yeah, that's my free write. Comments? Concerns? Feel free, its part of the assignment :P

the Canary Coloured Caravan of Death!! (I was expecting a horror movie...)

As many of you have been assigned (we share the same class...) to read Literary Modules for homework over the week, I have as well. While I read three of the six(?) articles chosen, I would like to share my thoughts and interest regarding chapter five of "Fun House" (or as I prefer to call it by its actual and admittedly much more awesome title) the Canary Coloured Caravan of Death.

The author frames her childhood coping with her father's untimely death through the work of a graphic novel, as well as chronicles the development of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It sounds depressing and, at root, it kind've is in topic as a whole. However, the way that the author's descriptions of family members' actions blends in with the artful rendition of their characters in a way that keeps it from seeming as such. The mother gets remarried (I'm led to believe, correct me if I'm wrong as some of the pages are missing) and the author copes with the lack of her father by expressing "latent hostilities" through odd compulsions that mostly show up in either the bathtub or her diary.

The text is crafted in the way reminiscent of more mainstream graphic novels, and as such some liberties with the actual text can be taken to further shape the story. In one panel the author mumbles something under her breath, and instead of actual tiny words there are simple scribblings in the word bubble to signify that it was meant that it was incoherent and not important.

I feel that the author chose to write this story as a sort of blending between her two great "artistic passions" that she mentions in CCCoD (still cool, even abbreviated) that flow through every member of her home; her talents being drawing and writing- which she does fervently in her youth.

All in all, I think that its an interesting take on a memoir though I am no less glad that I read it.

CANARY CARAVAN, AWAAAAAAAY!!!

So I'm supposed to introduce myself...

First and foremost, this blog was created as a large part of my Composition class at USC Upstate in South Carolina. I'm not really much of a blogger in general, but I get the feeling that by the end of the course I will be or Ms. Thompson will fail me.

Secondly, hello.

I chose to attend Upstate for many reasons, the majority of which relate back to the fact that it is a local school that provides plenty of opportunity to further my education in a friendly and helpful environment. I remember my first time walking through the doors, everyone was very friendly and asked if I was psyched to be at USC Upstate!

My passions are simple, I'm a huge nerd. I love comic books just a little bit more than I love regular books. I may not seem like it in class (at least not yet, anyway) but I'm a very talkative person who has a tendency towards subjectional rants. But, in reality, I just want to make people laugh.

My goals towards this class? I'm not quite sure yet. This is my first year in college, and I've never closely known anyone whom has ever gone. However I suspect that I'll have a much better understanding of blogs and blogging in general.

Yay?