Blog Manifesto

Blog Manifesto


This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.

We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)

Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!

Monday, March 26, 2012

the golden pass

"Where did you feel the most bored?  Write about it in an interesting way."

hahahaha

junior year high school
study hall

hollie and i were so bored we devise an infallible plan to skip out.  i had procured a golden pass from the french teacher.  the pass excused us from study hall.. but was totally open ended.. no date on it. 

so every day, for three awesome weeks, hollie and i signed ourselves out of study hall and headed down to the cafeteria or my house or wherever..  anywhere other than those four white walls lined with desks manned with bored sleepy silent students.  this was before the advent of.. texting.. cell phones.. 4G.. angry birds..  words with friends.. blahhhhh!!

we had some fun.. escaping boredom.  LOTS of fun. 

so one day, we are sitting in a corner of the empty cafeteria, messing around.. and in walks pam.   pam, the office helper.

'hey guys.. mr. hoover is looking for you both.  something came to the office for you, hollie.. and when they went looking for you in study hall and saw you were both signed out, and you werent in french class...  well, i figured i better give you the heads up.'

shit.

hollie bursts into tears.  'i knew this was a bad idea!  why did i ever let you talk me into this?'

relax.

'relax??  what are we gonna do?   i cant get any demerits!  i have never had any demerits!!'

i tried not to roll my eyes.  i will take care of it.  come with me.

i take her by the hand and walk her straight into mr. hoover's office.  i sit directly in front of him.. hollie behind me.. crumpled into a messy ball of tears.

mr. hoover.  we decided to come forward and admit we skipped out of study hall today.  we are really sorry, and we will never do it again.

he just gives me a blank stare.  squints at me.  'is this the first time?'

yes sir.  and it won't happen again.

'ok.. well.  here's what we are going to do.  i am going to make a note in each of your records that you skipped class, and that i withheld 5 demerits.  but..  if i catch either of you skipping class again, you will get detention.  understood?'

yes sir.

mini crisis averted.  hollie never skipped class again.  ever. 
i am fairly sure mr. hoover didnt believe me, but never had anyone actually fess up like that.

good times.

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