As usual, it started with a few Sex and the City re-runs playing on TV. It only took about half of the first episode I watched for me to feel an awful, oh so familiar itch. Then I saw the movie sequel, which, of course, only made it worse. Yesterday, Randi and I watched Letters to Juliet and that was the end of it.
I need to write.
I don't just want to write or feel like scribbling down a thing or two; I need to write. Watching Carrie Bradshaw and Amanda Seyfried's character in Letters to Juliet killed me. I stopped writing for the paper on campus because the quality was just awful and at first it was a relief, but it soon turned into a missing piece. I'm dying to finish my Bachelor's Degree in English just for an excuse to write extensively and regularly again. I didn't major in journalism because the program is practically non-existent at Pacific.
Public Relations is all fine and well, but it feels like work. Writing doesn't. It never has and I haven't written anything of worth in so long I'm afraid I never will again. I can't live with that. I change my mind about what I want to do after I graduate on a very regular basis--dance teacher, Disney performer, PR consultant, event planner, entertainment news anchor--, but I always, always come back to wanting to write in some manner.
It did not help at all that I saw a book at the bookstore yesterday titled "This Year You Write Your Novel." I need to figure something out and soon.
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