Writing Lab 1

***here's laughter. I just spent the last 20 minutes writing an entry and knew I hadn't saved it when I clicked on EDIT YOUR PROFILE. I could kick myself***

I enrolled in this "Writing Conference" class. You put in 16 hours of "conference" time at this lab I'm sitting in and the school rewards you with .5units and the word PASS on your transcript. You don't even have to actually "conference" with an instructor--as proven by this solitary act of using the online computers to journal my thoughts. I originally enrolled because my English instructor noted anyone taking the conference class and using the tools/instructors to write an essay would get 1/2 grade higher on any paper turned in. It turns out that I didn't want to READ & WRITE this semester so I dropped the English class but I kept this one. Part of me figures that it's a good opportunity to try and focus on some of my own writing projects. Will I?

In the last week, I wrote two more songs for Closer To Legal, "Darwin" and "That Way." That brings the total up to three, four if I can work the you last entry into something workable. Is this another dream of mine that will never drip ripe its fruition? I dare not quash the small endeavors that keep my fire alive inside. SAVE POINT UNO (I'm getting smart this time.) Randy & I are staying at my mom's house until next Wednesday. She and Jim have driven up to Seattle to visit Grandpa & Grandma Jean. Sarah is in her second week of high school. A Freshman. So grown up, so young still. She has so much insecurity and yet I can see the woman beginning to form opinions with her Hot Topic t-shirt reading "Prom Is Dumb" and her star shot shoelaces. It's nice having a washer/dryer so accessible. I miss this part of domestic living. I don't miss the clutter that my mom seems to collect everywhere. I don't miss the animals and the hair they leave everywhere, nor cleaning up the "messes" they make. It will be a different week for us and I'm sure we'll both be glad to be in our own bed just as fast as we can. Yesterday I took Sarah to a doctor appointment. Randy accompanied us. I liked that hey came. We grow more and more domestic as the months pass. Soon my birthday will be here and two years will have graced us. (As we gracefully fell back to the arms of grace--haha) We all walked into the waiting room of the doctor's office and found it to be quite full. Noise. Kids running. Noise. Parents calling. Noise. Nurses calling. Noise noise noise noise. I want kids? We sat down and there was the table in front of us with magazines, kiddie books. A man was talking to a little girl on the other side of the table. It wasn't odd at first, but I noticed that he had his feet on the table, elevated, resting, as if it were an ottoman(sp?) at home. When I glanced again, I could see that he wasn't wearing any shoes and his bare feet were on the magazines AND one foot wasn't regular color. It was Orange with green spots. I looked at Randy and psychically we exchanged the same thought. (His was auidbly louder than mine.) Sarah soon saw and was trying not to laugh. The man and girl eventually left. We began talking about it and laughed. I picked up the magazine that his foot was resting on and put it on Randy's lap. With no volume control, his immediate reaction was, "JESUS CHRIST! His foot was on that." Sarah and I laughed like only siblings or great friends can. SAVE POINT DOS On the way over to this lab/center, I passed the main courtyard and the mobile coffehouse cart. In the year that I've been coming here the cart has never been worked by anything other than boys. Not just boys but ONLY CUTE BOYS. I have concluded that the owner of the coffeshop is gay and he hand picks the boys to staff the cart. I KNOW this. =) Now I'll let this fantasy play out for a while and then maybe share it with Bobby at some point where we will mutually figure out the truth. My time has ended. Two hours down, 14 more to go. Ahh....where will the semester take me?