Spring Break

I don't usually have spring break plans. Before my senior year, I would just stay at home or hang out with friends. As a social recluse, spring break was nothing more than a time to stay at home and enjoy my favorite games or write.

In my senior year of high school, our class board proposed a trip to Mexico but... no one was thrilled to go. We felt that the area of Mexico was unsafe and just an opportunity for students to lose control.

So instead of a trip, I worked during Spring Break at Taco Bell. I jumped from six hour shifts to nine hour shifts and I regretted it.

This year, I fear it might be the same.

Offensive Langauge

Words by themselves don't usually upset me, nor phrases. It's the tone and inflection behind the words that I find offensive.
As someone with Aspergers, I have struggled constantly to decipher the meaning behind peoples words. Are they merely joking, or are they trying to be mean? Am I the butt of a joke or is it all in good fun?
I can't tell the difference when people speak. I don't know if they are angry at me or because of something else. I don't know how to pick out subtle sarcasm. I don't take jokes like everyone else.
I struggle everyday that I have to interact with people. Because I can never tell what the implication behind their words are.
I've gotten upset when people make jokes about my family or art. I get upset when my father says barbed comments that he claims to be 'jokes'. 
I automatically find language offensive because I don't know the difference. All I know is to be angry because I'm upset. I'm upset because I don't know when people are mean or having fun.
Words don't make me mad, it's the meaning behind them that do.

Guilty Pleasure

A guilty pleasure of mine has, and always will be, horses.

Ever since I was a young child, I was obsessed with horses. I would constantly beg my mom to take me to a friends barn to see them, even begged to ride them if I could. I would carry multiple books about horses, memorizing reams of information. Countless notebooks were filled with stick figure doodles of horses, my fantasies drawn out in blurred pencil.
I was often shamed and bullied for my obsession. Every report was bound to have some mention of a horse or even be about them. I would only talk about horses and was confused as to why the other children would ignore me. Years later, I've realized that this was partly because of Aspergers. It's not uncommon of those with Aspergers to fixate on a particular subject or item, whereas a normal child might express interest at a basic level.
I gradually learned how to express my interest without coming off too zealous and how to funnel it. I spent many years collecting lifelike figurines and Breyer brand models. I found comfort in their realistic beauty and forms as a way to compensate for my lack of a horse. And through the years, they have been a constant. Because even though my interests grow and expand, horses have always been part of me. They are what comforted me when I was alone, they are what drove me to work hard, and they are why I became an artist.

Learning isn't fun when you have problems

In the three weeks or so that I've started college, I've noticied countless differences between here and government mandated schooling.
High school and middle school wasn't fun for me. As someone diagnosed with Aspergers and ADD, fitting in was an accomplishment far beyond my reach. I was shunned by my peers, steered away from the self-acclaimed 'popular kids'. My interests were deemed 'weird' and not worth consideration. I made it very clear that working in groups with anyone was a bad idea and often ended in hissed expletives and new animosity. I shared nothing in common with my classmates, save for a handful that became good friends.
But I could usually live with the lack of a social group at school. My mother made it very clear that I 'go to school to learn, not to make friends'. So, I thought nothing of it. I was content at the time to be in the company of only one or two people rather than waste my time trying to decode the two-faced words of those around me.
However, my struggle didn't end there. Now, I had been diagnosed with ADD and Aspergers at the age of six. For years, and still today, I struggle with understanding course work and sometimes keeping on top of homework. I've constructed a loose system that seems to work for me so far, but it's only a matter of time before I give in and use a planner.
Anyways, it was made clear that I struggled with school. Keeping track of assignments and making sure they were turned in on time was a group effort from me, my mother, and the teachers. It was exhausting, but it was the only thing that the school was willing to do. The root of this problem lies in
how public schooling is handled.
I started per-algebra in seventh grade. In order to find out which classes we would go to, we would have to take computerized tests. I always test well, even if I don't understand the work itself. And unfortunately, this landed me in the advanced math class.
I drowned in that class. I didn't understand the work, I could never keep up with the speed of the class, and I generally refused to do assignments. I would beg for help to understand something, but I was never given it. And my mother couldn't help me. She hadn't taken this kind of math for school and it had been years since she did it.
So my mother asked if they would move me to a slower paced class. She even came to the principal in person an sat down at a meeting with him.
The principal said that moving me to a slower class would 'ruin the schedule' and it 'didn't matter anyway because I would take it in high school'. An administrative leader at the school flat out told my mother that it wasn't important enough for me to understand the work to bother with it.
But at the same time, my sister was being bounced back and forth between classes. They eagerly moved her to a harder math class, but once she started to struggle, they immediately put her back. This happened several times, but not once did they sit down and even attempt to put me in a class more my speed.
This problem festered well into freshman year. I was once again put into the advanced math class and failed it by the end of the year. Because no one would move me and the teachers wouldn't help. They didn't care that I had a condition that affected how I learned. All they saw was a student who was either too stupid or too lazy to pass.

When I started college, I thought it would be the exact same thing. I thought that the teachers wouldn't care if I understood the material or if I was even keeping up. I was so sure that they would focus on the same thing everyone else did: my letter grade.

But when I sat down in my Communications class and I listened to Mr.Andrews, my preconceived notions started to disappear. He hated grading us on how we tested, but rather if we participated. He's engaging enough to keep the room lively, but he doesn't derail himself. And when I walked up to him after class to say I have Aspergers, I was surprised to find that he actually knew what it was. He knew the signs of it and he understood how hard it can be on a person. And he immediately asked if there was anything he could do to make sure I was understanding everything.
A teacher has never said that to me. A teacher has never taken the responsibility to make sure I'm going to succeed. A teacher has never done their job properly when it came to me before now.
I have never felt so confident that I was going to succeed before because it was always my fault that I didn't understand. It makes me so happy that someone besides my mother actually cares about me and my difficulties. It makes me happy that he was doing his job and immediately tried to help.
That is what a teacher should do.

The essence of a story

A story is a combination of words that tries to impart a lesson or teaching to the readers, or even to just entertain the audience. A story can be about real life or pure fantasy. A story is a way to translate feelings or to create fantasies.

But what makes a good story is harder to determine. The basics of a good story is a protagonist the reader can identify with, a stable plot, and a force that works against the protagonist. These are just the very bare basics of a story, but that doesn't make it good.

What makes it good is the world around the protagonist and the opposing force. How immersive is it, how realistic is it, and can the reader see it clearly in their mind? Can the reader easily see the events unfold before them in, can they see the society in which the protagonist works, and do they understand certain limitations upon the character?

World building works as a way to give life and detail to the story at hand, from describing the protagonist's immediate surroundings to the vast world around them. By understanding the world and the society our protagonist lives in, we can better empathize with them and their path against the opposing force. And by illuminating their surroundings, we can better visualize the events as they are played out.

World building also pertains to how a character acts and how to communicate with supporting characters. By further understanding the subconscious and conscious decisions of our protagonist, we can better relate to them.  And only by being able to understand the character and world are we able to judge if it is relatively 'good' to us.

Grif the Cat

About a year and one month ago, I lost my calico kitten Aya to feline leukemia. I still remember her very fondly to this day, but there's another reason to celebrate this time.

A week after her passing, my Dad came home and asked me to come with him to Battle Creek. I had stayed home from school one extra day, as Aya had passed during the Christmas break.
I went with him, unable to stand being in the house much longer. I had already cleaned and disinfected my entire room along with throwing out all things she had used or played with.

At first I thought we were just going grocery shopping. It was about that time of the month and I figured walking around would help.
But instead of taking the road to Meijer's, he turned the vehicle onto a road I had never seen.
With interest peaked, I sat up in my seat. I kept looking down the road and at the sides, wondering where we were going.

And finally we pulled into the driveway of the local animal shelter.
At first I thought it was some sort of sick joke, but that worry was washed away when we walked in.
I immediately went to the designated cat room, unable to contain my excitement. I love dogs, but I have always felt more at ease with cats.

I had never seen so many cats before in one room. They covered the floor and countless baskets, while others clung to various cat towers and scratching posts.
But I was more interested in the kittens. Perhaps I would have be just as happy with an adult cat as I was with a kitten, but I wanted to interact with the kittens before I touched the older cats.

The kittens had their own area, secluded from the adults. The volunteer had said it was to keep the kittens from contracting adult diseases.
Luckily there was only four in there. So I entered the small pen and crouched down, letting the, come to me.

The first kitten to greet me was an enthusiastic pale calico. She immediately crawled up my coat to my shoulder and proceded to rub against my cheek.
There was a small white one who would shy away whenever I moved. And a brindle colored kitten who was content to keep sitting in a small box.
But then there was a small orange tiger, cautiously sniffing at my shoe and batting at the rubber sides.

I'm not sure why, but I found him the most interesting. So I picked him up and looked at him. He only blinked at me and licked his nose.
Maybe the fact that I had never owned a male or orange colored cat was what drew me. Or maybe I was tired of my calico cats getting sick and dying.
Whatever the case, I looked up at my dad and said I wanted the little orange furball.

So we went to the volunteer, who drew up the necessary paperwork and registration. He'd already had his shots and was fixed, and the adoption fee was only $100. I was more than eager to take him home right away, but the volunteer said we had to wait for a reason I can't remember.
So it was planned that my mom would come home and pick me up to go and pick up 'Nemo' as he was dubbed at the time.
When asked if I wanted to change his name, I decided to name him 'Grif'. It might have been silly to name him after one of my favorite Red vs Blue characters, but it was too perfect. They were both orange and quite lazy.

So that night I came home with him, a tiny three month old kitten who would become my animal best friend. He cuddles with me at any available moment, hogs the middle of the bed, and always demands attention. He's such an affectionate cat, and it makes me glad that I picked him.

Prompt 1 - Audience

Writing without an audience is a wasted endeavor. Without someone to read the words which a writer has woven together, the point or lesson of the word is lost. An audience is what keeps the writer writing. An audience determines what is important or enjoyable, and what is not worth their time. As such, audiences can vary. The audience who relishes sci-fi is not the same audience who loves steampunk. And because there are so many different audiences to appeal to, many genres and types of writing surfaces.

 

A recent form of writing, called 'roleplay', has surfaced and begun to make roots in social media sites. The basis of roleplaying is the interaction between two or more people writing about fictional characters, and dictating the plot of such interactions. This is commonly found in fandoms and such sites like Tumblr or Facebook.

 

While the function of roleplay is easy to understand, the purpose is a harder question to answer. Within fandoms, roleplay is used to play out certain situations between characters and gain an understanding of their characters. Through this, the audience is also privy to such interactions and can understand the character better themselves.

 

Another common theme of roleplay is 'fan service' or 'fan fulfillment'. By taking these same characters, the roleplayers are able to act certain relationships or scenarios that are not explicitly stated in canon. By fulfilling the need to see certain characters in these situations, the audience also gains satisfaction that cannot be given from the rest of the fandom. This is the most popular purpose for roleplay and why many people in the fandom support it.