Stories...and more stories = 250 type-written pages

As a teenager, I was constantly writing. These stories would just come out of my head and find their way to paper or Word. I found these "old discs" the other day as I was sorting through my drawers.

I use the same characters in the stories I write presently. I start from scratch though, only using the background knowledge of who they are in my head.

What I love about writing is the freedom of expression. I can change my characters if I want. If I want them to have long hair or short hair, I can do that. If I want to suddenly make one of them, Puerto Rican - I can do that. Ok, you get the point, huh?

I decided to save these to a CD and print them out at school. I formatted them to double-spaced, size 10 font, and added a header with the page number. I organized them so that all of Alondra's stories were in Alondra's file and all of Letta's chapter were in one file and so forth. Then I selected print. Over and over pages kept flying out of the printer at me. Once I collected them all, I was amazed to find 250 pages!! I'm thinking to myself, "I don't need to write a novel; I have one right here!" All I gotta do is polish it up and of course END IT. Ahhh, ending. I hate endings. Especially because I don't know how to end it. That's why I haven't turned in that story to my CR professor right now because I don't know how to end it.

Should I end it in romance or change or ???? I guess I'll know once I know. Kinda like "I'll see you when I see you."

I plan to read over and over and over these stories I wrote back in junior high and high school, you know I got married. Did you know I got married? Yep, sure did. I married my college career, very demanding husband - didn't let me have much time for myself and my writing. Confessions of love, let me write out the stress he's been giving me, let me write about the bruises of C's in English Comp he placed on my ego. Yes, college has been a cruel husband to me. Don't think I've regretted it. Because college has been nice to me, nurturing, loving, caring, and giving me learning experience after learning experience. The best teacher is experience after all.

I am now educated in many different types of literature; I've studied and UNDERSTOOD philosophy; I've met some interesting people; I've made some contacts with other professors of presitigious universities; I've SURVIVED. May 2006 - graduation with my B.A. in Humanities - English. A piece of paper to say I've spent the last four years of my life reading books, writing papers, and learning about myself.

I'm not a high school teacher; I know that for sure. I couldn't take control of no high school class. I'm too young; I'd be socializing with them. I don't want to work forty plus hours a week on my feet. Nooooooo! I don't want to grade papers after papers. I don't want to teach them what the State of Texas wants me to teach them. I want to teach them what I want to teach them. English. Books. Shakespeare. Literature. Humanities - life.

When I first walked in English Composition and heard Mr. Flores lecturing, I knew I wanted to be up there, lecturing, communicating, speaking, still teaching but to a different audience. Teaching books...literature...about life. Adult subjects, topics like religion, homosexuality, ethnicity, justice, government, psychology.

Teaching to people who want to be there, not because they HAVE to be there. People who want to learn, who are anxious and hungry for knowledge like I was back in the fall of 2002. People with empty minds, waiting to be filled with knowledge. That's who I want to teach.

College took me away from my writing - put my attention on something else like research papers and literary analysis. Made me read books instead of writing my own. Gave me short breaks where I could pour out my heart onto short pages of notebook paper that hid in my purse. These thoughts became poetry, strong and hard changing poetry. Poems that are scattered in notebooks and taped on my walls.

College introduced me to friends. Diversity. Bonding. True friends. Different ages. Different backgrounds. Different sexual preferences. - I love the attention from gay men.

But, most importantly - college has brought me stories. Given me experiences to write about. Experiences that have changed and molded into who I am today. Experiences that have shaped into a strong woman.

This is what my stories are now - as I have grown up, so have my stories. We have evolved and changed. And, damn change is good!!!

My Wonderful Friends

I do not know about anyone else out there in cyberspace, but I've heard that you only have a "few friends" your whole lifetime. I realized yesterday on my 21st birthday what wonderful friends I have. Both of my wonderful best friends bought me nice gifts. It's not the material things that matter; it's how they went out of their way. One of them drove 100 miles to come celebrate my birthday. He burned me a MP3 CD with Jimmy Edwards (lead in Latin Breed) and Lola Beltran (old Mariachi cantadora). These are old-time singers - not easy to find. I thought that was super sweet of him. The Target gift card was great as well as the picture frame.

My other best friend was creative with photography and decorations. My gift bag was red with a little fairy on the outside with red streamers hanging everywhere. The gifts were great too. Another gift card - this one to Hastings, one of my favorite stores.

My other favorite "friend" showed up to see me and give me a good gift, too - Victoria's Secret gift card. Just seeing him brought a smile to my face.

My soul sista called me to wish me a happy birthday. I swear; I love my friends.

It's the thought that counts.

My family was great as well - had me a nice dinner with carne guisada, rice, beans, yummy garlic potatoes. Mom and Dad brought me pretty pink baloons and flowers. My boss had flowers delivered. I had a happy birthday.

Elsie