Writing, Pain, Baths and Writing

Where are you weekend? Why can’t I find you? Why have you gone away? Cindy Lou Who anyone? Also, I totally forgot about this even though I was reminded by one of the friendlier bus drivers: DAMN YOU TIME CHANGE! DAMN YOU FOR STEALING AN HOUR OF MY SLEEP! Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system...

I have proven that I don’t have super powers but that I do in fact have super writing ability. I finally finished my Lit paper. So, this weekend, I’ve finished two eight page papers. My intention was to finish four papers but that was ridiculous. I forgot about my creative writing assignment so... if you want, add on another four page paper. This one actually required more work than usual because I decided to write a historical fiction. If you’re interested in what I wrote on, look up the Rosentrasse protest of 1943. I can post the piece if you want but it will be quite long.

I attempted to get my fascism essay done, but that just wasn’t going to happen. I had a horrible headache all day today. Probably from staring at a computer all weekend. But I got through some of my research and made some notes. I’ll have it done by Wednesday. I hate March Madness. This has to be the worst year for me. Seven papers due in two weeks. I’d be screwed if I were working at the restaurant.

In other news... I did nothing this weekend. I’ve taken a lot of baths. Because when your head kills and you want to die a little on the inside, a bath is the perfect solution.

I suppose for lack of postage today I could put up something I wrote for class... This is a piece of flash/postcard fiction. Flash because it’s so short but still has a beginning, middle and end. Postcard because it’s supposed to be able to fit on a postcard. Mine’s about 250 words. This is one of the pieces my class will be work-shopping tomorrow night. Fingers crossed.

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Valentine’s Day was a Hallmark ritual that nineteen year old Dana hated. It was a day when she was reminded of all she had not achieved. She was an average but hardworking student while also being a minimum wage lackey with a fairly decent job. That wasn’t the problem. Her social life was the problem. It sucked. Majorly.

As she ate a sad bowl of cereal that night, she glared at the stunning pink roses her sister had received. Dana wanted someone to buy her roses. She wanted to be with someone on Valentine’s Day rather than being alone, eating soggy cereal at ten o’clock at night, with her cat creepily staring at her. She didn’t care if it was only a made up holiday designed for corporate cash grabs. For once, she wanted the experience. At least her happily married parents hadn’t forgotten her. And chocolate did soothe the wounds of lifelong singlehood. The horrible irony of her chocolate was that they were Hershey Kisses. She couldn’t get a person to kiss her, but chocolate, chocolate would just have to do.

Over the next few days, she ate her Kisses sparingly. She could taste the taint of Valentine’s Day on them. When she at last reached the lone, surviving Kiss, she hesitated before placing it on her dresser. Grinning slightly, she walked away. The box, the wrappers, the annoying little tails of paper were crumpled in the trash. But the lone, surviving Kiss sat waiting on her dresser.
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So yeah. It’s not my favourite piece but I still like it. For the girl who hates her first novel with all the fires of Hell, still liking a piece is a pretty good thing.

Anyway, let me know what you think. Be gentle. It was my first time with flash fiction.

Lauren.