Mamma Said

      Growing up, like most, I would endlessly force my mom to proof-read my papers, make sure my math was correct, try to trick her into doing my work for me, you know, basic kid stuff. As I grew older though my mom would always ask to read my papers. Just thinking that she was being my mom, I didn't think anything of it, until one night at dinner. In a totally random moment, after I had asked her to pass the salt, or something like that, my mom turns to me and she says, "You know Addie, I really like reading you papers cause they read like you talk," Now, since I was probably 18 when she said this, and not really equipped to carry a normal conversion I answered with a grunt, or a sign and just continued to eat my mashed potatoes. Looking back now, I realize what a cool thing it is. I hope that if anyone reads this, they can get a sense of what my voice is from my writing. Although you probably won't be able to pick up on my pesudo-valley-girl-western accent, cause who the eff knows how that happened.

      The reason why I find this relevant it that I'm in this Critical Thinking class and it's all about, "finding your rhetorical voice." I know what I talk like, and I'm not overly thrilled with it. I get the impression that the way I speak dumbs me down, if that makes sense. I'm a 23 year old woman, and I say "like," basically every other word ( I almost said "like," right there!) . So a part of my whole ~*~new year, new me~*~ is to actually find my rhetorical voice. I'm glad I have a voice in my writing, and I'm glad it sounds like me, but I think it's time to refine and tune. Time to grow up as they say.

Cheers, Momma

So You Wanna Be an Independent Woman?

     Two and a half years ago I moved to Tucson, AZ at the ripe age of 21. It was my first time not living with my parents, and I made the executive (dumb) decision to live alone. Living alone would be great right?! Having my own space, not having to worry about who's turn it was to buy toilet paper, or worry about someone eating my yogurt, but truth be told, I was lonely. So lonely. I was depressed, and everyday was a struggle. My dad came down to say with me for a little bit, just to help, which it did, but as soon as he left I fell back into my funk. The glamorous single-girl life I had planned for myself in my new city was slowly crumbling apart.
   
Sidebar here are interesting facts about me.
 I am:
              1. overly dramatic (thanks childhood love of theatrical arts!)
              2. very impatient
              3. bullheaded (thanks Scottish heritage!)

     With that being said lets take another look at my transition to The Old Pueblo. Yes, moving is hard, and yes it can be lonely at times, but everything just takes time. When I moved down here I expected to have friendships like the ones I had up in Prescott, forget the fact that I had know most my friends upwards of five years....I expected my life to just fall into place, and everything would be hunky-dory! I have a tendency to move fast, and expect others to keep the same pace as me, but that seldom the case. I don't know what it is, maybe it's cause I'm a Cancer (astrology?) or maybe it's just a trait that is hardwired into my DNA, but I expect to have one conversation with people, and just expect them to want to BFFS and braid each others hair and get matching tattoos. I've burned many a bridge, for reason I'm not even sure why. I'll feel betrayed or abandoned all because someone was working all day and couldn't get fro-yo with me. This ,and many other things, are something that I'm hoping to fix. Try to be empathetic, try to slow things down, try being the operable. Since my mini-breakdown I've made some really good friends. We go to bars, we have inside jokes, just like real friends, hmmm whodathunk! Sure we may not have know each other since 8th grade, but these are still lasting friendships. I've found my crowd, my clique, my pack, and now I can't imagine living my life in any other way.
     So cheers to striking out on my own when I was ill-equipped, and cheers to making it out on the other side!

Life

     Ever notice how life seems to get in the way, like all the time? Well that's how I feel especially right now. On some days I feel so fulfilled in my day-to-day functions, and other days I just feel like a big grey blob floating around doing nothing with my life. As a non-traditional student, I find it hard to connect with my peers. I constantly mutter to myself, "what the freak are these kids even thinking?!?!" and then I remember, they're not. I wasn't thinking when I was eighteen, nineteen or twenty. I didn't know what I wanted in my life, or career, I was just focused on finding a bitchin house party to attend every weekend. You would think that now that I'm 23 things would be going smoothly seeing I know what I want to be when I, "grow up", but that is not the case. I often find myself sighing and dragging my feet just going through the motions, waiting for my life to begin. School has been fun, school has been great, I love learning, I love being on campus around the hustle and bustle, but I'm over it. I don't like having a sporadic schedule, I don't like stressing and cramming for tests, I don't like having to deal with less than ideal student-peers. I just want a nice 9-5 job with weekends off. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK? Kind of, seeing as I forget that I did take an entire year off from school. Whoops. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I took the path I did, and I'm happy that I made it back, but where's my fairy godmother to come and snap her fingers and give me a nice cubicle in an office park with a kitten poster? I know that no one wants to hear the moans and groans of a twenty-something, pretty well-off, white girl, but I just had to get it out there. One of the good things to come out of my college experience is that a professor of mine recently urged us to journal. Not for any particular reason., just to get things out, and I'm going to give it a try. So here we go, blogging attempt number 459,000, Lets see how long this bout lasts!

                                                                            P.S.

                                                                    I got a new dog

P.P.S. 

I have brown hair