Suuuuuppooosedly . . .

I'm supposed to be a writer.
I have my doubts.
Don't get me wrong, I think there's a hidden nugget of talent in what I do, but I also know some other writers that blow me out of the water. I recently read a Stephen King book, The Stand, that made me want to commit author-suicide. Just burn everything I've ever tried to write and pretend to be an engineer or scientist or something. There's no way I'll ever reach that level of writing so why even try? Because Stephenie Meyers made it I suppose. She doesn't write like Stephen King but I still catch myself thinking her characters are real. That has to count for something. Not to undermine her writing. I'd pretty much do any number of criminal activities to be considered in the same caliber as either of these authors.


So. Onward.

I have begun the tedious compilation of my life for my Masters degree application. I think there are only two reactions one can have when looking back on your life's accomplishments: pride or embarrassment, or a dark humor I suppose. I think I'm one of the last two. At least I had a lot of fun along the way. No one can deny that. I'll be going to Weber State University and I'm not ashamed. Many people start making excuses for me when they hear that I'll be going there: "oh you'll be closer to home", "oh you can get it cheaper because you work there", or my personal favorite "oh you'll be sure to get in there." First of all, Weber State is a beautiful campus and there are some amazing people here. Second of all, yes. I will be closer to home. Is there anything wrong with wanting to be around people who think you're funny? I'm a traveller but I also like to have a place to come home to. Utah is beautiful. And Weber State is peaceful. See for yourself:


Just kidding. I already graduated from Hogwarts. Here's the real deal:

The new guy

This is my very first time blogging. Ever. Rather exciting. Might go out and celebrate tonight. Or go home and resume life as usual. Which more often than not consists of me avoiding the A-hole and reading books that make me mad because I can't write like those people. A-hole is one of the four dogs that live in my house. The rest of you know him as Rocket but I refuse to speak anything but the truth. And the truth is that that dog is an A-hole. In every sense of the word. My other dog, Ranger (and well deserving of the brave name) is opposite of his stupid canine brother. He sleeps in my room and I'm pretty sure he whispers plots of A-hole's demise in my ear while I sleep. I have no objections to any of those ideas. I'm no animal hater but that "thing" is not an animal. It's a creature.

Steffen is coming to see me. I gotta go and make fun of his haircut. I feel like I didn't do too bad for a virgin-blogger. I'll be back.