"Black and stopped as a dead baby."

"To the person in the bell jar, black and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream." - The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath.

It's funny how things change over time. When I was younger, in Elementary and Middle School, I would try my best not to finish a novel because I wanted the sensation to last - I would never want the story to end. So I would read as much as I could and then read it over, in hopes that I wouldn't finish the book and end the journey. Now, I want to read as much as I can to gain as much from the novel as possible. I'm still a slow reader, and always will be, but I enjoy it to the fullest. I don't stretch out the time reading it just so the story will never end, for the story wont end once it's over. That's what's so great about writing, whether the book is still being read or hasn't been for years, a good story will never die. For example, The Bell Jar. That story tells messages that will never be forgotten. Like every novel written by Jodi Picoult - nothing will fly with the wind.

CHANGE OF HEART BY JODI PICOULT will be out in stores MARCH 4TH.

Sylvia Plath, how i adore you so.

I have been either too busy or too sick to do anything for myself lately. So lately, I have been readng a chapter from The Bell Jar every night. I just came across this section and it made me think about something:

"I had always looked down on my mother's college, as it was coed, and filled with people who couldn't get scholarships to the big eastern colleges.
Now I saw that the stupidest person at my mother's college knew more than I did. I saw they wouldn't even let me in through the door, let alone give me a scholarship like the one I had at my own college." - The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath - page 125

That section of the novel made me think about community colleges versus universities and state schools. Everyone constantly looks down at community colleges only because most of the people who want to go there are enrolled. However, even back in the 1930's, people still looked down at schools that weren't as known for academics but for the availability of the student body. In the section above, it proves that those at community colleges work their asses off to the point that some people from other colleges couldn't even keep up with the presented work. Every college has the same presented idea: work hard, do your best and enjoy the time spent. That's it; hands down.

a natural sickness

So of course I continue to get sick. I've had an ongoing cold/sinus infection since September (right after the surgery to help my sinuses). So, I try my best to survive - by downing tylenol and sudafed or whatever you call it. I'm beginning to think the surgery made everything worse. I will continue to believe that statment until proved otherwise.

This past week has made me believe that there are no such thing as nice men. Guys have absolutely no care in the world except for where they put their dick. Excuse my french. While girls begin to have emotional connections, guys only want sex and that just makes them all jerks. Come on, we've known this for the longest time. A friend of the family once told me that all guys are jerks: there are good jerks and bad jerks. I agree 100% with that statement and will quote it until the day I perish. But I am sick of being attracted to bad jerks. I always go for the kind of guy who will put me down or step all over me. When will I realize my problem and change? It's hard to change a way of attraction when its been there all of your life.

So I'm still having major writers block. I'm on around page 120 of A Separation of Heart and it's so far an above average piece of prose. However, I want something phenomonal - and I know that I can do that. I need to stop and think about where this book is going and how it is going to end. Usually the characters take the story in their own direction. I guess they have been napping and forgot where they were to begin with.

Well, I love my friends and I love my mom. I love my classes and I love eating. I hate working out and I hate winter weather. I hate not knowing where I'm going after MCC and I hate always being tired. I guess life is just full of 'I loves' and 'I hates."

days of dashboard

I've gone back to the days of Dashboard
It's sad I could fall so fast
It's the sadness that everyone tries to ignore
And that sadness really never goes away
You can feel it in your veins
Nesting its stay until the day you perish
And who knows when that day may come
Because all of our lives are tragedies
They lead and end in death

his name was john.

It's funny how the end of an era can come a few years after a popular television show has already ended the series. Sex and the City became my new favorite television show during my freshman near at college. After my friends and I began having S.A.T.C. nights, I automatically became addicted. I became addicted not because of the interesting sexual inuendos, but the relationship that four very different females seemed to have with one another. They were able to share their deepest and most off limits secrets with one another about guys, sex and their daily lives. Also, each of the girls had something about them which made them relatable to the single female.

Tonight I finally watched the last episode of the series and began to cry. Everything seemed to fit into place perfectly and the missing puzzle pieces were found. It made me feel like it wasn't only the end of an era, but the beginning of my own version of Sex and the City. I still haven't watched every episode recorded - but believe me, that will be done.

Sex and the City is not only about strange relationships and sexual mishaps, it's about life and how society portrays women differently from men. Society makes it seem like men are the only ones who talk about sex and relationships when really women talk about it just as much or more. We get into the topics that men would fear discuss because we have that comfort among our friends. This show was about the relationship among four different individuals and how they made it through suffering, broken hearts and frustrating times together - never apart.

one broken family equals a dozen more to come.

What happened to the days when you looked forward to coming home from college to spend time with the family that loves you? The family that smiles as you walk in the door, surprising you with hugs and compliments about how great you look or how happy they are to have you home.

That image is only a myth, an imaginary truth that so many continue to believe is real. I used to always think that my family was perfect but after the divorce - everything seemed to scatter and rip at the seams. It's been three years since my family separated - leaving me to pretend my world was just as great as it had been before it fell apart. It will never be the way it was before my junior year. Now I have a father who plays the guilt trip on his daughters every time he wants to spend time with us. I have a sister who continuously bashs my lifestyle, my goals and the way I am because she feels that it is okay to throw her anger at the one person who falls apart everytime she does so. And I have a mother, the one person who has kept me alive through out the last years. If it wasn't for her sense of understanding, I would probably be dead or in a pych ward. No one knows what I've gone through and what I still am struggling to overcome. Lately, I feel as if my family is the one thing I fear when really it's the one thing want back. Maybe not in the same sense as I had it three years ago - but something a little happier, a little bit calmer and definately relaxed.

So when I come home for vacations, I may hear the occasional you look great from one person: my mother. My father will discuss his own busy life as I sit back and listen and my sister will barely talk to me unless she has a friend alongside her. I do have my friends though, most who are away for vacation. But I do know that when I go back to school for the spring semester, I may miss being home, but I'll have my friends shoulders to cry on.

another year, another wish

Did you forget that yellow bird?
How could you forget your yellow bird?
She took a small silver wreath and pinned it on to me
She said this one will bring you love
And I don't know if it's true but I keep it for good luck
- Bright Eyes, We Are Nowhere, And it is Now

Sleeping pills, no sleeping dogs lie never
Far enough away
Glistening in the cold sweat of guilt
I’ve watched you slowly winding down for years
You can’t keep on like this
Now is as bad of time as any
- Imogen Heap, Speeding Cars

'Music brings to life a world that no one can truly describe.
It takes you from a harsh reality and switches your gaze
To one that is less harmful, less guilty.
Music releases you to a world where everything surrounding you
Is nothing but true.'

2008 will bring:
- Another finished novel - better than Addiction
- A healthier, slimmer me (15 pounds lighter, I hope)
- Above a 3.0 GPA
- More therapy sessions
- Confidence

I recieved another email from Jodi Picoult. I asked her about organization when it comes to writing - for I have been feeling like my work is not organized enough. This was her answer:

Jenni, for organization, a lot of the answer is practice - I write plots out and let the story percolate, and then I do tons of research ahead of time, and by the time I get to write it's all very organized in my mind. Sometimes it helps to plot out characters - their likes and dislikes, etc. Don't let yourself get hung up, though - concentrate on telling the story. It WON'T come out perfectly the first time, that's a given - so just plow through it and THEN go back and make your changes!
Jodi Picoult