I'm lurkin' your Myspace?

 Ooohing and aaahing in all the right places, even though I totally read the gossip on Myspace already.

I'm such a damn good friend. Or maybe a terrible one. Either way, awesome story.

Time's passing all too slowly.

My room is fairly dim, thanks to decently thick curtains, and between the air conditioner and two fans, I actually have to use a blanket. Not bad for the beginning of summer, those days that hit the high 80's and drive us insane, but that we'll be begging for when the temperatures begin to reach the 100's.

If this were winter, it'd be the complete opposite. We'd be shying away from this and attempting to warm the house. Ideally, it's one temperature all year round - the same one, though the effect is different - one that's warm enough in winter, cold enough in summer.

Funny how that works, isn't it? Temperature means something different depending on the season, on the weather, depending on where you are, what you're doing, the mood you're in. I guess everything does.

Writer's Block: Nature v. nurture

In your opinion, how much of our personality is genetic, and how much is shaped by environmental factors?

I believe it would be an extremely rare case, if not impossible, to meet someone whose environment had absolutely no effect on them at all throughout their lifetime.

I believe that a person becomes who they are based on every situation they've ever been placed in. We're always learning, always changing; you may be one person from birth and slowly change over time and you may have one situation change you drastically.

I'm sure there are things encoded in our brains from birth, but we always have the power to absorb, to disregard, or to overcome. When raised, we're taught basic morals (or lack thereof) and we choose to either stow them or throw them away.

And if my rambling has made any sense at all, I believe my point was that most of a person's personality is based on their environment (nurture - or lack thereof?) and that a small portion may come from heredity.

Yeah, I'm a little low on sleep. Give me a break.

Writer's Block: My Dream Job

What's your dream job? Are you qualified for it? If not, would that stop you from taking it if it were offered to you?

WARNING: This is entirely too long to be a Writer's Block. Read at your own risk.

I'm not sure I'll ever really know. I never took the time to daydream about what I wanted to do - not much, at least - and now I'm still uncertain. I don't know why. I mean, I've entertained ideas: I've wanted to be a psychologist, a nurse, a teacher, a writer.

Writing's the thing that I've given my attention to longest in my life. English has been my greatest subject in school as long as I can remember, and this next semester I'll be tutoring for it at my college (the "Writing Center"). If I could do anything, I'd want to be in a field associated with it, and as of now I'm considering either teaching or, even more greatly, something with editing, something like a publisher's office or a magazine company, or god, I don't know.

I realize that's not really being a writer, but it's something that I'm (currently) passionate about. And I'll probably change my mind fifty-two zillion times before I actually find my career, but that's okay. As long as I'm happy; as long as I enjoy what I do to the greatest extent possible. That'll be my greatest accomplishment.

----

I know this is a very wishy-washy answer. And to answer further, as it stands, I'm not really qualified for anything. After college I'll have my degree in English, and I'll be able to immerse myself in anything associated with the subject - anything that will accept me, at least. Even then I may not be completely qualified, but experience will give me what I need.

If I were offered a job that I truly wanted, there's no way I would turn it down. How could you? At that point, you're obviously wanted within the company to some degree, and therefore the only one holding you back would be yourself.

And you know what? If you screw it up - fucking awesome. Take the chance to screw up everything you can in life. It's both entirely bad-ass and a great chance to learn what you can better in yourself. Someday you'll cherish that.

DISCLAIMER: I'm not planning to screw up anything in your company. Please hire me.

I'm a terrible blogger.

You know, this isn't the first blog I've ever started. I love writing and I want to do it; I want to be in a career field associated with writing, to stretch my English major to its full potential (once I'm done with college). But no matter what I do, I run out of things to say.

There's so much going on in life, there always is, but it's all so ordinary. What am I supposed to talk about? What I ate for breakfast? No one cares. And no one wants to listen to me ramble on about a day with friends, because that's completely uninteresting to anyone who wasn't involved. And realistically, that's the basis of my life, of most lives: ordinary things that no one wants to either hear of or talk about, things that are absolutely boring.

So now I'm back to having nothing to say again.

Well tonight I'm absolutely bored and right now Troy's busy playing COD, so I thought I might post something. You know, just because I can. And really, I still have nothing to say, but maybe that's because there's really so much to say.

I don't write much anymore, which I think I said, I can't really remember. Besides for homework. There's been plenty of that lately, and I honestly couldn't be happier that it's finally summer time. I know I shouldn't be taking summers off because I'm in college now, but I don't care. I need my vacation or I go insane.

Also, it doesn't even feel like summer. Seriously, this is California, guys. We're supposedly known for fit blondes and beaches, and plenty of sun. But no, we've been back and forth between rain and intense heat for weeks now. And I, for one, am getting really fed up. I won't complain too much that I'm not dying of heat exhaustion right this second, but I really can't handle the bipolarity of this situation. Is bipolarity a word? I hope so, because it sounds pretty bad-ass.

This is probably going to be a ramble.

The sucky thing about being a writer is that sometimes there just really isn't anything to say. While sometimes that's because there's actually a ton and you just want to avoid it, there's often times that there's sincerely nothing, even though you truly do want to write - about, god, just anything. And in all reality, it's been a while since I've written for me; lately I've been cranking out papers for classes, I've been helping to edit Troy's, and that's really all I've had time for when it comes to the subject. Now here I am, two days before I have absolutely nothing to do but laze around for a few months, and I can't think of an interesting topic to start off on. Dear lord, this is looking like a ramble already.