how i'm introducing myself to my online class

I moved to Georgia three years ago. Before that, I'd spent fourteen years growing up in Southwest Florida--which isn't as rich with southern hospitality... except for the large dose my grandmother provided on a daily basis. My grandmother is from Louisville, Kentucky and I apire to be like her when I grow up. Beofre she was twenty-five she was a stock-car driving beauty queen, wife and mother who could serve up a mean helping of biscuits and gravy.

On the evenings that I climb into bed early, prop my feet up and read a novel, I feel like my grandmother. However, I read from a Sony Reader while she's afraid of her computer's mouse. I also haven't quite segwayed to the gory murder novels she indulges in on a regularly.

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... at the same time I'm staying connected with people without having to have those generic converstaions. by making portions of my life public knowledge, my friends and I can discuss things we have in common. had I never begun tweeting and blogging, I may have lost touch with people whose grasps to slipped from having anything in common with me.

I'm not claiming this all to be a utopian idea BUT it is something I've come to enjoy & appreciate. but I also appreciate sliding around on a mattress that doesn't quite fit the frame in a house that doent have internet connection. I also, at the moment, love that I'm experiencing something like 'blakberry-thumb' and looking into the lit next room. grandma's turned the light on and is reading the news paper because waking up at 5am is just another part of her daily routine. and the best part about all this is we're going to enjoy eachother's company and laugh over the generation gap between her morning paper and my morning blogging!

i am blogging from my PALM

I am sinking into a mattress that is as old as I am. it is dawn and my mouth woke me up. I had my wisdom teeth removed monday morning. that's why this morning the pain woke me up at the immediate experation of my pain pill.

seeing as how I was awake anyway, I've taken the opportunity to plug in, tune in, and write on.

this summer I'm vacationing at my grandparents'. (hense the tired mattress.) I love being here. as it pertains to blogging, and facebooking though, my g-parents' home is pretty restrictive. they have no internet connection. seeing as how I'm a CIT major, I can't just stop surfing the interwebs for three months--it would be detrimental to my craft. for that reason, I've turned my Palm into a mini wave pool. I have access to the world wide web. however wave pools are incredibly shallow compared to the entire ocean, so using my phone's internet requires a little creativity.

adding creativity with a bit of elbow grease (asdfgh) and a lot of mispelling, I'm sure, I will blog! the topic of my first Palm Blog will be the beauty of Twitter in my current perdicument.

my uncle clay and I sat in my g-parents' living room a couple weeks ago and discussed the internet for roughly an hour. my uncle clay from the class of 'why do I need the internet?'. and even though I seem like an internet advocate, I see some of the benifits to web-free society. homever, the benefits of using the internet tip the scale completely.

the point I used that is relevant to anyone who cares to read this blog is the internet helps you maintain relationships with people met in 'the real world' & then it makes it easier to keep and share moments that will become memories.

I enjoy writing. but there's always been something overwhelming about journeling to me. I used to fear I'd tarnish the fabulous notebook I'd picked to use with my lacklusted thoughts and ideas...

now I don't need a journal to write in (and consequently be intimidated by) because I 'journal' constantly through text messages via Twitter. and at the same time...

I want to blog

testing. testing

Nakednessss

I'm naked in most my dreams. It happens in strange places, too. For example, I'll be in the market and shopping completely naked. It's not like my dream is erotic--I'm just the only one in the grocery store naked and we're all going about our business.

Sometimes, I have the nervous/naked dreams. They are the ones where I'm suddenly naked and back in high school. Those are terrifying because everyone either makes fun of me or they all want me, sexually. Either way it's very uncomfortable.

I'll wake up in the middle of the night sweating. I suddenly feel paranoid about being naked in my own bed. It's such an awful feeling that I'll leap out of bed and into my closet. I frantically dig for clothes to hide my bare skin. Then I get back in bed and let the anxiety dissipate before even attempting to fall back asleep.

When my alarm clock buzzes the morning after one of my freak-outs I always feel really stupid. I'm usually tangled up in uncomfortable clothing (I hate wearing anything to bed). And on rare occasions, I'm fully clothed. I mean, my panic attack that night was so extreme that I felt the need to put enough clothing on, that if need be, I could go to class without altering my attire.

Pondering...

Crawling into bed, for me, is like swimming in a pool of abstract ideas. I splash around for a little while as if I have no idea how to swim. I think this is because when my mind wanders when I'd rather be sleeping, I feel like I'm being robbed of my sleep. The bandits sweep in, steal my trippy dreams, they make a mess, and all they leave are stupid, useless thoughts.

So, tonight I decided I'd curl up with bed with a good book. My rationale behind this was: having an author's whitty words fill my thoughts would be just the security system I needed. The novel on this evening's menu was Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs.... until I realized it was boring me to tears. I mean, it's an edgy book that Chuck Klosterman filled with pop culture insights, but as soon as the book was in print, the references were already out of date. I didn't realize this until I read Klosterman's intro--after I bought the book. That man probably values blogs. He apologizes about his out of date references in his book's prelude and blames it on the fact that once mostly anything makes it to print, it's probably outdated.

Since my plan failed, I have to resort to Plan B (and I don't mean the morning after pill)--sharing the stupid things that flood my brain with everyone out in cyberspace. And I think I'll use visuals! Here we go...

Sleepy Daze

The gymnasium packed with my peers gawking at me as a short, angry, middle-aged man scolds me. He has an ongoing list of attributes are responsible for my delinquency. After what seems an eternity, my face is on fire and everyone finally gets up and moves out of the gym. I ask one of my former teachers what I did to deserve that "capital punishment" and she had no response. So I went to the classroom that I converted to my bedroom and changed out of my uniform into a t-shirt and panties. A cross between shock and depression overwhelmed me. I lost all control of my muscles and I laid on my small bed.

Suddenly, I wake up with the urgent need to find a bathroom. I turn, open the door and suddenly am in the gymnasium where my humiliation took place. It's at this exact moment I realize my ass is showing because I didn't bother to add any clothing to the t-shirt and panties I fell asleep in. I was already out of my room so I decide to keep walking around. I walk through a door and enter a home attached to the school.

It's dark and dusty and looks like it is in the middle of reconstruction. As I wander through it, I begin to lose track of how to get out. Lost and confused, nothing else matters to me except getting back to my room. I see a young boy crouched down in the dust and debris staring back at me. I'm positive he comes here often and probably steals anything he can find.

A startling ringing noise begins to fill the building and I know I have to get out. I find a door and run though it. I'm outside and inching my way around the corner of the building, then Tim wakes me up.