I'm bored with this. Really. And I don't just mean with this blog, but with life entirely.
I cut my hair. Only a little is left. I started working out, for some variety and so that when I sat on my couch I would appreciate the sunken portion I have created with the constancy of my patronage. I'm tired of my classes. Nothing is new anymore. I switched the genre of literature I read; the music I listen to. I'm redecorating my room. I don't want to eat in the same old restaurants anymore--give me something different, like Panera or Chipotle. No more McDonalds and Pizza Hut. I started going to the tanning bed at my doctor's insistance. He says I have seasonal affective disorder. He says I need sun and antidepressants. I say I need variety.
So I'm trying something new. Right here.
In my senior year of high school I caught my good friend Erica with a dime romance novel, much to my dismay. "Why?!" I cried. "When there is so much better literature, three feet away!" (we were standing outside the library). I decided to make her a present, to truly reveal the absurdity of the romance trend. To explain the illogic of "happily ever after;" to reveal the fact that "love at first sight" ends upon closer examination. Perhaps this reaction could be judged as an early appearance of my poor self esteem and certainty that I would never be happy. Perhaps I was hoping to help her realize my point of view, misery was existence. Romantic love evolved out of the desire of having someone at your beck and call, to please you, and eventually became mutually exploitive. But no matter the reasoning, I sat down to write.
By graduation, I had e-mailed to her a portion of a satirical (I flatter myself) romance novel, in weekly serials. It became quite popular, printed and exchanged around campus. But soon I graduated, and it was never completed.
So now, in the interest of variety, I will here reproduce the beginning of the novel, followed by the conclusion which is as of yet unwritten. I will submit it in the original segments rather than in one block.