An unrecognized Love

Its that time again for me. Yes, THAT time. Where I once again for the thousandth time, I sharpen my pencils, gather my favorite pens, pack up my old book bag, and head back to school. I never really considered myself a scholastic type person. While I don't think I'm retarded by any means, I've just never fully applied myself to schooling. Ever. At least until, these last few years where I am starting to feel the repercussions of a C grade verses an A. I never prided myself in the actual lettering's, but more what I gathered from my courses. And since I've been attending college for about 10 years now, I consider myself to be very well rounded, yet my grades suck. I mean, if we're just being honest here. My mind wanders like a madman at night in the dark alleys that seem to never end. This mind of mine also works in ways that most peoples do not. Or at least I don't think so. Even on my days where I haven't spoken much (which at times could be a rare occasion) my mind is still processing a thousand different things. I've even considered having some form of A.D.D, where I cant concentrate on one single thing at any given time, or that I have learning disabilities; where I can remember exact page numbers, where the pictures were placed on the page, and what color highlighter I used, and if I try hard enough, I can remember what I was wearing that day. Scary isn't it? Yet, somehow I cant retain the information that I just read, unless I write it down and study study study. Teachers assign certain sections of the book to read, and I cant handle just reading the section. I have a craving to read the WHOLE book in order to really grasp the whole concept of lets say, Physiology, or Chemistry. Or even Art. I don't want to miss a thing. In turn, this works against me, often leaving me way behind, or just putting too much on my plate in general, but ask me a question later on in life, and I can probably still remember. I'd like to say pridefully that I have a photographic memory, but I'm not lucky enough for that to be my special talent. However, my mind or maybe my humor and maybe just life in general in my head, works sort of as a play or a movie. A comic strip if you will, or even just a photograph. Which I think is why I love all those things. Photography, movies, comics, books, plays, sarcastic humor. I even have a tendency to laugh inappropriately sometimes at misfortunes, or how that lady down the street just biffed it so hard, she torn her jeans and spilled her coffee and skinned her knees and gouged her palms. The best part about that, is that I'm no so much laughing to just be mean, but I can totally imagine the type of day that this has set up for that poor lady. More like in real life I just witnessed something a director is trying to get his actors to re-inact again and again to make his audience laugh. And here I am, lucky enough to see the raw footage.
Then I start this blog, and I find that while I do have days of writers block, once I start typing, I cant stop. I do this with paper too. I write all the time. Short stories, usually of a day that made me laugh. I write letters that I never send. Obituaries even. Not so much for the dark and sad part, but more like the celebration of life for someone. I've started poems and never finished. Anyway, you get my drift. I enjoy just putting my mind down on paper.
So, now that I've set up my blog in a way you'll understand if you don't already know me that well, I'll get on with my "new" thing. Yes, this is a long one, so once again, I'll stick to just one new thing instead of my many things that I've done.
In all honesty, I need to pump up my English grades in order to help myself get on the nursing list. So I found a teacher that I really really enjoyed last semester, and I'm taking her two courses this semester. Doc Courington, what a lovely lady. I love the fact that no matter what kind of opinion you have, its a good one. And as long as you are pushing yourself to understand the general knowledge of writing/reading/English, she loves it. Man O' man, this works for me and my spacey mind. In addition, she is offering a creative writing course! Perfect! I've always loved writing, and hey, why not do something I enjoy. So there you have it. My new thing is my creative writing course. And a poetry class that goes along with it. And if you must know, for the first time, I'm taking three classes at once. I'm taking a sociology class too. So I guess that's a new thing two! And since I work all day, its more than enough.

Here's a quick glimpse of my first day, and then I'll stop blabbing.

I hate to stereotype, but we all do it in some way maybe without even noticing, and I don't do it to be mean, so I'm sorry if I offend anyone.
Being a creative writing course, I'm already expecting the normal. The more "creative thinkers", the more "Artsy" people, the ones that don't really care that you think his nylons are too bright. Or the dark and sexy ladies that have the seductive pony tail and bangs hiding her bright blue eyes covered in smoky black eyeliner. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I of course, consider myself to be a pretty normal girl. Jeans, tennies, tank top, or shirt. Hair always curly since I cant seem to do anything else with it.
I start seeing all the different walks of life filing in one by one, and I start thinking about each one individually. Hey! That girls reminds me of my "dark days" as my mother and I jokingly call them when I had a time where I loved anything and everything black. Then, hey! That other girl has a cute shirt on.. Oh look at that, I think I used to have boots just like that! Oh my God, that bag reminds me of my old roommates.

And then it hits me.
As I'm sitting there in my jeans, tennies, and my skater shirt that's a dark gray color that has stamped in white a thousand times all over the back " I brake for nature" with bright green embarrassing birds and a green tractor on it.

Jesus Christ..... I fit right in.

That was a pivotal moment and a hilarious one at that, for me. As I'm doing my individual introduction to the class, on why I'm taking this course, and if I've ever written before, I realize that my reasoning's for writing - which are because I come up with wild ideas and have to write them down so I can go on about my day- were the same as everyone else. I've got notepads full of crap I've written, and I have created a bunch of poems since I could remember, and I've written a ton of dreams down that would knock your socks right off. And as I'm being honest with the class and laughing WITH everyone as I'm explaining that I really just need to pump my grades for English up, I catch myself saying-

" and who knows, maybe I'll find my love again, and switch my major to English"

HOLY CRAP!! DID I JUST SAY THAT????

As I looked around, I saw a ton of smiles on peoples faces and for once I kinda felt good about my words and the fact that there were people that shared a common interest. Even if I don't wear wild clothes anymore, or do rebellious things against the normal, I like that I can still integrate that into a piece of me for a while. Or for a semester at least.

While I would like to think that I could be happy in that profession, my love is in sciences and the medical field. I want to be a nurse. Bottom line. In the meantime though, I wouldn't mind trying to find ways to become a better writer just for shits and giggles. Who knows, maybe I can write stories in my spare time in the life of a deformed blood cell. Or mock up comics for the medical break rooms when we need a laugh after a long and trying day. I cant draw for my life, but maybe I could leave that up to the other creative person that is in the medical field.