  I finally gave into the will of my soul and bought The Carpenters at Barnes and Noble this afternoon. I know, it’s pretty uncharacteristic. But something in me just loves them. I’m not going to tell anyone that I actually own this CD. I will hide in with my private collection of semi-shameful music. (Isral, I believe you know what hides with Karen and Richard) My creative writing class is hosting an open-mic poetry/fiction/whatever reading at Auntie Bookstore in two weeks. It’s not purely open-mic, mind you. We have to submit our selections beforehand so that they can be approved for content.
I guess this is supposed to keep sexually-charged or drug-related writing from being performed. I find it deeply ironic that these subjects are banned at a teen reading. I really want to write something for it. Or read something. Liz and I have decided it is necessary for us to get over our fears of public shame. But Liz is so tame. She’s let me read her material before, and its squeaky-clean. Aside from being PG, it’s also well-written. My poetry, however, is absolutely neither of these things. It’s embarrassingly poor and usually about “unacceptable” topics. And so I set off to write about something appropriate. I talked to my Dad about going to Evergreen today, and his reaction was just as I expected.
He scoffed at the silly liberal no-grades college in Olympia. But I fell in love with it last year when I was a Senate Page. The people in that community are amazing. Living animal-free would be easy there. The weather is perfect; rainy and murky, but sunny in the afternoons. The school itself has an amazing English department. Plus, I’m not going to pretend that the Nirvana aspect doesn’t entice me. Nevermind was written entirely in Olympia. Imagine the inspiration. I am not now that writer that I want to be.
I have to live a little more, maybe have my heart broken, know love, before I can fully convey all the depth I want to have. Evergreen seems to nurture the lifestyle I want to have. So there will be more talks with my father about the matter. I must convince him that it’s a good pre-law school, somehow. Affectionately… Anna 
