Guilty Pleasure

            Sleepovers with my friends are an exact replica of what you see in the movies. After piling onto one couch, seven crazy girls spend their night watching low budget scary movies, eating junk food, logging onto Chatroulette, gossiping, and reading magazines. Reading magazines may sound like the least harmful of these activities, but this is where my guilty pleasure comes into play. We started reading Cosmopolitan magazine when one of my friends bought an issue from Meijer and brought it to a gathering one night out of curiosity. She pulled the vibrantly colored magazine out of her bag and shot the rest of us a devious look. Gathering in a circle around the publication felt like being part of a sports team getting ready to run over the game plan. As we began to shuffle through the shiny pages we read about how to get the perfect abs, dating advice, sex tips, what to wear, etc. Deep down we all know that the advice is bull shit, and that we shouldn’t even be reading this advice because none of it applies to our lives anyway! Even with this knowledge we can’t seem to put it down! After rifling through page after page we come to the end of the magazine (also known as the best part). Laughter explodes through the room as we take turns narrating an excerpt from the latest cheesy romance novel. When I read the magazines with my friends it feels acceptable, because it’s entertaining. But passing by the magazines in the checkout aisle sends a wave of temptation over me. I grab the latest issue and think to myself, “I’ll just check out one of the cover stories and put it back”. But after holding it in my hands I cannot resist. The feeling of shame washes over me after I reach into my pocket and pull out four dollars. I look around to see if anyone is watching as I rush over to the self-scan machine, and quickly stuff the magazine into a plastic bag. Make that two plastic bags. 

The Bus

I walk to the designated area. The metal bench tempts me by saying “It’s ok, take a seat”. My feet hurt so much that I begin to ponder this idea for a few moments before remembering the moment I do, I sacrifice my chances of getting a spot on the next shuttle to hell (also known as Math 105). It’s like selling your soul to Satan. Instead I decide to stand. Sorry feet!

I make my way to the curbside. I stand so close to the edge that I have to look down to ensure that I will not stumble over the side. The taste of old Trident Layers fills my mouth and I immediately wish I would have brought another piece along with me; there’s no turning back now. Seconds later the sound of the brakes echoing to a screeching stop travels through my ear canals and those of everyone around me. I can feel the anticipation of my fellow colleagues as we see the maize and blue bus rounding the corner. The tension is so thick I feel as if I could slice a piece of it out of the air with a carving knife. “Please stop right in front of me. Please stop right in front of me. Perfect!” I cannot believe my luck! The gigantic whale, waiting to swallow us up has come to a halt and I am standing right in front of its mouth. 

The school of fish is pushing and shoving and I can feel their weight bearing down on my back. I hear a loud creaking noise as the doors open. Just like a natural instinct, I swim through the doors and into the back where I know an empty seat will be waiting for me. Wrongfully filled with excitement, I stammer to the back and discover a spot in the corner. Sweet relief sets in as I remove my backpack and take a seat. This feeling is only temporary however. The smells of body odor and cheap cologne barricade my nostrils. As the bus begins to proceed the people who are left standing have to stammer to keep their balance. A ginormous backpack swings into my peripheral vision and there is no way to prevent what is coming. Soon I receive a smack in the face. As I sit amongst the crowd of students I am filled with depression. I am reminded of the fact that when the day is finally over, the giant whale will once again consume me. 

Writing Process

            In my opinion, the best conditions for writing are when it is completely silent. I find that this is imperative in order to focus my thoughts and produce decent writing. If I am writing for fun I do not mind playing light music in the background. I like to write at night when I can lay in my bed, with my notebook or laptop, and relax. I have found that I produce much better writing when I am not stressed and give myself ample time to complete a project.

Often times I like to write in steady streams. Once I get into “the flow” of writing I find it difficult to stop. I like to work until I get something done, rather than having my workload spread out. Occasionally I will write in short bursts if an idea comes to mind, or if I have a little amount of time. Revising is vital to my work. My papers get revised over and over again by my peers and I before they are completed. I almost always start with the introduction when I am writing. Starting from the beginning enables me to gain some background knowledge on the topic and comprise a legit thesis.

In order to develop organized paragraphs I need to have a clear mindset. Having a thesis aids in this process. It also helps if I find all of my sources before drafting, rather than adding in random sources later. I like to have a clear outline before I begin my initial draft.