Forced

I knew there would come a time when this felt forced, but I didn't expect it to happen simultaneously with my enrollment in a creative writing course. (Why CW -- because it's free, because I've never taken a college writing class (and I teach them everyday), etc. etc.). I have to write a 4-6 page short story by Friday @ noon, and for once in my life, I seem to be at a loss for words. Me! Lost for words? Did you read that right?

Yes! I have to tell a story in which there's an interesting character AND something happens. The hallmark of my writing is that it's really about NOTHING. Why does something have to happen? All the good stuff just appears during your wait to check out at the grocery store. Why does there have to be "potential for change," as my teacher says?

So of course this is helping ... sitting here posting this nonsense instead of doing my homework, which has something to do with answering 34 questions about my protagonist (one of which is "What is her astrological sign?"). I'm not sure this is for me. Up to now I feel that I've been perfectly happy with a protagonist whom I created literally, and who, by the way, is a Virgo. And though there have been many times when I have wanted to control what happened to him or what he said or how he acted, it's mostly been out of my control. So I guess I should feel better about the fact that whoever I write about isn't likely to talk back to me unless I allow it. Hmmm ... this is sounding better.

And also I'm sitting here eating Pretzel goldfish, which are not on the diet plan I've been following from the January issue of Shape magazine.

I celebrated my 31st this week, and that consisted of the following:
1. Being allowed to sleep until 7:30 a.m. I could still hear faint squabbling about wearing short sleeve shirts vs. long sleeve, but still.
2. Being made oatmeal with flax seed, blueberries, and bananas with fresh squeezed juice.
3. Being taken out to eat Vietnamese food (not likely to become a tradition, btw).
4. Being enraged by various idiotic student email messages.
5. Beign fed home-made beef stroganoff and sharing a carrot cake muffin with my roommates and our across the street neighbors, Bob & Betty.

Hey! Maybe Bob & Betty can be my characters ... they're interesting, and a lot of things "happen" to them ... they go to Cracker Barrell several times a week, Bob goes bowling, Betty walks loops at the church. Betty even told me a funny story (over cupcakes) about how Bob "used to have a thing about buying coolers, but now he just buys coffee makers. Because you never know when you're gonna need a coffee maker. Especially on vacation," she says.

Anyway ... it was a nice birthday.

The highlight of the Goose's week was the weekly tradition of taking the city bus downtown to Starbuck's and the library. And this week no hot chocolate was spilled! That's major. Up to now it has been very much a part of the tradition to spill the hot chocolate and not to have any extra clothes to change into. This week the trip also involved a high five with the bus driver, which was a big hit.

Also this week we bought a second car, which is not red, not that it matters. Later in the week (after I whip out a short story), I'll be sure to post picures of the birthday party with Bob & Betty (originally invited over as "backup singers" -- Brian's cute idea) and, hopefully, the new wheels.

Please send ideas for stories ...