foreward/forewarned

Who was she? What did she do?  She was herself. She did it all.

I have found throughout the last four years of my life, I have experienced more than the average human. Love, hate, revulsion, compassion, intrigue, they have all come to me through many graces. Boys and friends have always been here and there and I believe these instances from the last four years have shaped me into the subtly awkward girl that I am. I have written this memoir in order to justify my world. The life I have led is based on one personal conviction- I refuse to be boring.

Four years to now, I have answered that decree.

My life has had its spouts of ups and downs, ins and outs, and what-have-you. I want to be remembered and what I want out of life is the absolute refusal of any aspect of my life to be considered typical. Being ordinary arouses no curiosity. No appeal. No motivation. I will be remembered throughout my life, among people, places, events, thoughts, and letters! There is no defining moment that has made me into the woman that I am, none at the beginning or at the end. Who I am comes from a collection of moments in the middle. These moments are anything but ordinary; more so unusual- these moments are ones to remember, to empathize with, to feel saddened, frustrated, or happiness. My life is filled with interesting, but useless facts.

the view and my cathartic exodus of feeling

Wow, jeez. 

Since 2002 I've transgressed from one online outlet of word spewage to another. Blurty to Livejournal to Greatestjournal to Deadjournal back to Livejournal to Myspace blog to Tumblr to Twitter... and now I say hello Blogspot. Please do me well. I have so many things to say and I hope they come smoothly.

 

I need to write. I used to want to be a creative writing major and I dropped that dream for the lack of my inspiration to write anymore. Five awards in writing in two years and I have put myself to shame. I can say that I'm mildly attuned to the blogger community and I can only hope that someone... or someoneS read this and really cultivate or appreciate what I have to say. I've had the dream in back of my mind all along that I'll get published from some thing I write about along the lines of blogging. 

So, here it goes. I'm Phoebe and I am telling my story. 

I wrote a lot of these entries from the past year or so ago in my creative writing class. I wrote a memoir recollecting the past four years of my life. I had harbored feelings inward for so long and writing this memoir in my creative writing class came to be a catharsis. It was a real exodus of things and people I used to want to vanish, but now I have no ill-feelings towards. Maybe just some pent up awkwardness, but that is a given.