writer's block of an enormous sort

I need to learn how to write better. I always have this feeling that I want to write something, be it a journal entry or a meaningful blog post or that column that I keep telling Matt I'll write for the sports section of The Daily. There's always something that inspires me, but when I go to put pen to paper (fingers to keyboard, rather) my mind goes blank, and I've got no idea what to say. I try thinking of those great things I had thought about before...but the ideas have dissipated! I'm wondering if this is some inherent part of me or if I can make an attitudinal switch that will enable me to write. Maybe it's fear that's keeping me back. I guess I sometimes read other people's writing (in newspaper and magazine stories, in blogs, etc.) and think how good they are and how I wish I would have gone to journalism school. I know I'm preaching to an empty pew in this post, but I think I need some help...some motivation or some tricks?

Michael Vick

So this might be a little past-due, but I am still seeing articles and blog posts all over the place asking the question of the century: Should Michael Vick be allowed to play?

YES.

Why the hell not? Yes, he did something awful. PETA, you were fine to climb all over him for it then, but no longer. He has served his sentence in prison and is now making an attempt to get his life back on track.

Do PETA members think that, once you've partaken in animal abuse, you should be resigned to a life without hope, without opportunity, even after serving two years in jail?

I love animals, I really do. But this is just outrageous. Give the man a chance.

If you don't give him a chance and, instead, tell him he must sit at home or work in retail the rest of his life - taking away his passion, his love - what do you think he will turn to? If it's not dog fighting again, it'll be some other destructive activity. If you make a man feel worthless and hopeless, what else will he turn to?

Andy Reid, you've done something commendable in welcoming Michael Vick with open arms. I hope you continue to support him and show him that he can rise out of the rock-bottom depths he sunk to.

So small, so intimidating

Hornets are terrifying creatures, and three of them have been disposed from my dorm room within the past week.

I actually spent just about half an hour on the phone with my mom discussing my plan of attack on one of these little devils. She and I had been talking for ten or so minutes when I saw a nice sized black mass moving across the wall to my right. When I focused in on the drooling beast, I leapt up and threw myself against the door, screaming to my mom that there was a large flying insect on my wall. In retrospect, for those 30 minutes that thing was alive in my room, it owned my room. Although my room was full of my stuff, it wasn't mine anymore. It was this hornet's stuff. It buzzed about as it pleased, from bed to chair to jeans to window. And I moved accordingly, trying my best not to take up the thing's oxygen.

I managed to kill it by smushing it between the curtain and the window when it couldn't see me (or so I would like to think). It fell into the radiator, though, so for all I know, it could perform some crazy stunt and come back to life to make babies in the radiator and kill me in my sleep. Let's hope that's not the case.

At any rate, once I killed the hornet, I found a second one already dead and curled up in the corner of the window. Oh boy, this meant there was a nest nearby and that these little beasts were somehow crawling in through some hole in the screen. What the hell? Not fair. Not fair at all.

After living in fear for a number of days, my boyfriend (Matt) convinced me to open the window once again so that we could breathe the sweet air of the outdoors. I was hesitant (oh SO hesitant), but I complied. There were no hornet problems for a while...until yesterday, when Matt had just gotten back to the dorm with some to-go food from Norris. He flung open the curtains to reveal a nice, big, juicy hornet just chillin' on the screen.

He took just about 30 seconds to find some paper towels and murder the hornet, but the experience was frightening enough for me to say, "I told you so."

We then found a roll of duct tape that had been stuffed in a bag in my room, and Matt taped the entire perimeter of the window, leaving no room for error...no room for these inch-and-a-half long creatures to re-enter and terrorize our human lives.

Grant Me a Wish

I actually just realized how much I've taken some people in my life for granted.

For instance: When I was a little girl, I actually told my mom I wished I had this other girl's mommy instead. What a preposterous thing to say. First of all, although I didn't realize it then, I have the best mom there is. (Well, I'm sure everybody does, right?) She has done so much for me. And I told her I wanted another mommy? What the hell is that?

Also, as silly as it sounds, I wish I had paid more attention to the people around me in middle school and high school. Where are they now? I don't know. But I wish I did. I kind of miss them.

Ah, and I wish I had continued playing soccer. I loved that game so much, and I was a mighty fine midfielder/defender. Pretty athletic, too. I could have been up there with Mia Hamm. Maybe not. But maybe so. Who knows?

And what about when I was in kindergarten and wrote in a 15-page "About Me" booklet that I wanted to be a policewoman? Or when, a year later, I wrote in another "About Me" booklet that I wanted to be a veterinarian? Or when, a few years later, I dreamed of being an animal trainer at Sea World? Where do these dreams go?

People change. The only reason you ever feel that there's something or someone you have "taken for granted" at some point in your life is that hindsight is 20/20. Everything is clearer in retrospect. Your values and ideals now are much different from what they may have been when you broke your mother's heart by telling her you wanted another mommy. They may be different from when you pushed that kid into the sandbox. Or when you told somebody else's secret. Or when you broke a promise to your dearest friend. Or when you screwed up and had to start all over. Or when you lost your only love. Or your first love.

I guess that's why I actually don't want to be able to go back and change things. Sure, if I were the same person then as I am now, I would probably have done things a little differently. You know, if I knew where in my life I'd be. But I wasn't. Obviously. Every little detail comprises who we are. I don't think we should wish to change it.

Although...I do wish I had clearer skin. =]

Selfish

One thing I don't think I'll ever understand is how selfish some people are.

Namely men.

Why are they entitled to all the pleasure and fun? It's a little much to ask for ALL of the time.

And by a little, I mean a lot.

It makes something that was fun (in my mind) turn into something hostile and insensitive. It leads to thick air in the room and an unfriendly separation. None of it makes any sense to me.

The More You Know Someone

"Everyone's disappointing, the more you get to know someone."

Of all the little tidbits of wisdom in Synecdoche, New York that make you hardcore reevaluate your life, this little fella is my least favorite.

I think, for me, the case is that people actually disappoint me less the more I get to know them. There are exceptions, of course - maybe 1/3 of people I know end up disappointing me. Oh, but isn't that awful to think of? Just thinking about thinking of those people makes me uncomfortable, like I'm betraying somebody somehow. If you knew I was thinking how disappointed I am by you, would you feel betrayed?

I must be betraying you; otherwise, I would be able to list your names here, because you would already know how I feel.

There are some people who have disappointed, then redeemed. Then, perhaps, disappointed again and redeemed again. And with them, I think I am just waiting for another disappointment, likely meaning that I am indeed still disappointed with them. And I know them more. I know they disappoint, so I am disappointed. Probably more disappointed with the fact that I feel I have to live on edge waiting for the day they disappoint me again...than with the fact that they have disappointed me in the past.

This whole issue of disappointment is actually a little depressing to ponder.

And I have used some form of the word "disappoint" entirely too many times in this post.

Taken for Granted

I just realized that I am a huge fan of warm weather and sunshine. Why oh why did I ever leave Florida?

The salt drifting in the heavy air. The blue crabs covering the streets in the summer. The hot sand littered with shells, both jagged and smooth. No wonder Vero Beach is such a coveted tourist spot. It's one of the most beautiful places on Earth.