The End

This will be my last blog post.

For now.

I dunno. I haven't really enjoyed writing lately.

And people who know me well, know that my last five posts have been mediocre.

I was really excited when I first made this blog.

I remember reading Taylor Wicker's, and thinking how much I loved what she wrote. And I wanted to do the same thing.

But now, I'm just frustrated.

I'm frustrated that I don't ever know what or how to write.

I'm frustrated that I can't seem to keep people in my life like I wanted to.

I'm frustrated that, even though I begin my career at Marian next fall, the Ivy Tech English department and the teachers in it are soul sucking jerks.

I can't wait to be in a writing class that makes me write.

Not..."Okay, now for this weeks journal entry, I want you to tell me what time period would you like to live in, if any."

Eight grade writing?

But this has been fun. I'll still keep my notebooks around to keep my short stories in.

Maybe I'll start up a new blog during the summer. Maybe. Or I may wait until Marian.

I won't take this Blog Spot down though. I still want to keep it as a sentimental piece...if that makes sense.

I know some people will be disappointed, especially my followers. But I don't like not having the heart to update this as often as I would like.

I wish I had something cool to say to end this.

It was just a sprain, I guess.

I'm gonna talk about the weather.

It's fucking stupid.

I've only been alive for nineteen years now.

And I've been able to remember about fifteen years of it.

And with THAT being said...I've not seen it be THIS terrible since 1996.

I remember living with my dad on East Grant Street, which is about the worst part of the city. The armpit of the city, if you will.

It snowed for like three days straight. And plows never came through where we lives. And no one had their own plow, so the streets had to be driven on for them to be even relatively clear.

So yea...we had about a billion accidents up and down the street. I'm roughly guesstimating, but it just might have been close to a billion.

And I remember, since we didn't have a driveway, the people living on Grant had to shovel out a spot on the side of the street so they could park their cars.

My dad spent a couple of hours shoveling one night. He had this huge Suburban, so he had to shovel TWO spots so he would fit. I remember sitting inside watching "Friends" and eating popcorn while I waited.

He came inside right as the last episode of the night was ending, and he was pissed.

Lemme tell you how pissed he was.

He was SO pissed, that he couldn't even see straight. He came in the house all wobbling everywhere and cussing till he turned blue.

Our next door neighbor had pulled into the spot my dad shoveled out while my dad was busy getting salt from the garage.

He may have killed that guy that night. I never saw him again.

Well...THIS might be worse. All of the streets in and out of my neighborhood are completely icy. I've only 320 pounds of extra weight in my truck bed AND I've no brakes. I'm metal-to-metal on both my front and back brakes. So while it would suck to drive at all, even on a sunny day, it's fifty trillion times worse on all of this fucking snow and ice. PLUS, I'm having to drive downtown every morning to get to class, and while I'm not the best driver in the world, I'm definitely better than all of the other drivers in Downtown Indianapolis.

Just a little rant.

C'mon summer. I've got my wayfarers ready.

You can go ahead and take it. I don't want it anymore.