Sometimes We Write For Fame

When I have a blog to write, I feel like I have the Sword of Damocles hovering over my head.

This is what goes through my mind if I don't start writing it ahead of time, "Shit, I have a blog to write."

It's not a terrible thing, I really do enjoy writing, but sometimes it can just be hard to put ideas together when I have a deadline to meet. It seems to sometimes be harder to do when I have procrastinated. 

Now when I sat in an English class several weeks ago, my teacher would walk around on his high horse, talking about how the media are biased, and there are flaws in our writing because we don't mention on what page or what issue the information came from. 

However, that's an old blog. 

You know, someone can criticize us all they want, that's part of the thrill of creating or reporting or blogging. However, we do it to show off and have people read it, or watch our video, show them our painting or our sculpture or taking a photograph despite the harsh critique. 

We're not crazy, we're not looking for fortune, we're looking for fame. 

If you know the names Dianne Sawyer or Woodward and Bernstein, you know what  I'm talking about. Some people get the local celebrity which is cool, but wouldn't it be cool to socialize with the president or Bill Cosby? 

Of course these people don't just have fame, they have the cash to get them the best plastic surgery money can buy, but there is one thing that I wouldn't give up for the fame and fortune.

Privacy. 

Since they are celebrities, it must be pretty awesome to have an 11 year old girl run up to you in tears because she got your cd for her birthday. Or a 12 year old year old boy asks you to sign his football because you're his favorite athlete. 

Since they are held in the public eye, they are held to a higher standard, a friend, and a role model. 

So when Britney Spears gets herself on drugs, we roll our eyes. We scrutinize her and make fun of her and say "it's just Britney being Britney", but if it's our own child or brother or sister, we get them into rehab and cry and take them to AA meetings and be their support system, and out of respect people don't discuss it in the open. 

However, usually journalists and writers are not the celebrities, we are the silent fame. To us, we are famous if five people have read our article. We are like that silent famous, where people read your work and discuss it, but are seldomly followed by the paparazzi. 

The "Twilight" actors are followed like hawks. Stephenie Meyer is not. At least not followed by photographers looking to get her getting out of a limo without underwear on.

I enjoy reading articles in Time Magazine, or things that have a creative flare on them. Now, maybe you read the story and didn't agree with it, but it's cold hard facts and writing. No one can tell you it's wrong which is also the other brilliant part of being a creator.

Writers often times can sit in their rooms alone, and not be bothered, or they can write with chaos going on in their little world. They live in the moment, or often in the future, for what intentions they have. But ask anyone who has ever written a piece for a newspaper or publication seeing their name in print.

It looks pretty fucking awesome.

Now many of them wish not to sing on a stage, or play an instrument, or play someone elses part in a theatrical production, but they want to hide behind the scenes and know that they are being valued without being center stage.

Sometimes writers have to face their fears, by confronting a criminal. Sometimes we need to learn about something we're not remotely interested in. Sometimes we need to storyboard a fictional commercial. Sometimes we write to see our own name in print. Sometimes we write for those who can't speak or are to afraid to and gain power. Sometimes we just write in hopes that one person will read it.

Sometimes we just write for fame.

Don't Fear The Teacher!

I remember when I first started school, my life changed. Every child's does I suppose.  Instead of being under the supervision of your parents, you're under the supervision of a teacher.

A stranger.

 This is something that children learn to adapt with at an early age. Once they've been conditioned to follow their parents rules, now they have to learn a whole new set of rules.

Oh, Joy.

Maybe my experience was a little bit different because I went to a Catholic school for 1st through 5th grade. But when I left my school where I went to kindergarten, it all changed. 

The rules were no longer focused on fun, but on the  rules themselves. 

 When children are young, they are taught to raise their hands when they want to answer a question, ask the teacher when they have to go to the bathroom, they are taught how to read and write.  They were being taught this at a young age, to allow for them to "behave" in all future classrooms.

The teacher is a scary figure at first, tall and short hair with dark glasses in a class of 30. She is a stranger in the flesh. The teacher is your leader, your master. She punishes you for misbehaving, when you still don't know what that word even means. 

Then the students became AFRAID of the teacher. 

They don't allow for smart-alec remarks, or mouthing off, but for conformity and keeping children in line. Children learn to obey at an early age for the rest of their days in the classroom.

If you think about it, educational systems and the home are where most children learn that they should obey. 

As I got older in my school years, I slowly became more accustomed to the whole "school" thing. I hated the work load because it was a lot of work for a 1st grader. I would have five subjects to do in one night. My first grade teacher was tough. 

For the next year, I met a teacher who was just too mean for me to learn. Her name was Mrs. R. She was a nasty lady who taught me to fear the teacher even more. She would yell and shout at us for talking, she wrote in cursive when we had not been taught it, and would yell at me for sneezing. I felt like I was in a prison cell for the rest of the day. I would be free when we got to lunch, unless she was there, we still couldn't pee. When she yelled at me, she humiliated me in particular.

 She made me feel useless for trying to solve a problem. She didn't like my sister and I because we were "teacher's kids."

All the teachers in school made us feel pretty crappy when we made a mistake. So then we became more nervous that we’d make another. They yelled and humiliated us. I've tried to block out that memory, because it was a dreadful experience.  

We learned to fear the teacher and not question it because, God forbid, she made a mistake. She never made a mistake.

In my fifth grade year, I began to get mouthy, and had a few standoffs with my teachers and classmates. At that point, I just didn't care what any of them had to say.  I was so fed up with teachers and students alike.  I started to become a rebel--- By not wearing my knee socks. I almost got suspended for not wearing my knee socks. 

I wish I were kidding. 

It wasn't until I made it to high school and college, where things started to pick up. So, I started asking questions and following the teacher’s rules, most of my teachers in high school were pretty chill. I did however have a few that were nutty. 

Of course in high school, the processes and procedures were the same. 

Attend Class
Come Prepared
Raise your hand

Do your Homework
Line up to go outside for gym class

Ask to use the rest room

Study hard…
and blah blah blah. 

Then I got to college. More specifically, the ATC at Luzerne County Community College. That was the day I met Ed. 

Not Mr. Ackerman, Ed and Jim. Not just Jim, but Jim Rising. 

They broke all the rules of school that any of the classmates of my generation were taught.

Obey.

 I didn't have to fear these guys. The “Mr.” or “Mrs.” was demolished from ATC vocabulary. 

The instructors weren't scary! These guys were human with a sense of humor. I've learned more lessons from my college professors than my whole time dealing with administrative crap to keep "us in line" through high school and grade-school. 

Ed gave us quarters for saying things that were cool, things that were funny, things that were intelligent, and things that were just plain worth a quarter -- Or a dollar, or 5 dollars. He taught us to "never do anything for free."

 I never missed one of Ed's classes, because he always had a lesson to teach and sometimes it didn't relate to academics. 

When I finally took a class with Andy (not Mr. Petonak), he brought me to a realization. Writing is hard work and writing like an English teacher would want you to is frowned upon -- Because let's face it, the less words, the better, but he also taught me a very important lesson more important than anything about the journalism craft.

He taught me a little something about integrity.

He  said that "you have a right to disagree and  you have a right not to use my advice." His job is to offer us advice, not force us to write the way he writes. 

His word was not gospel and that was the first time I had ever been taught that. He is not Mr. Petonak, he is Andy. College is not just somewhere where I do my course work and go home. It is a place where people can be people and blur the lines between teacher and friend.

College is a place where it isn’t just about learning material on the midterm, but learning material on life’s exam. 

Ohio

Travelling is something I don;t find to be so bad. I never really minded especially as I started driving, watching the street signs go by and being a co-piolot for my mom. Not to mention my favorite website is googlemaps. I can spend hours reading up on  maps.

But there is always one state that whenever we drive through it's crappy and rainy. I don't ever remember it being sunny there ever.

Ohio.

When I was younger, my cousins used to live in Ohio. My family used to pack up all of our stuff and drive to the flat midwest. As we would go, I would look out the windows and realize it takes FOREVER to get out of Pennsylvania, and is always crappy in Ohio at night.

Nothing against Ohio, it just seems like a worse place to live then Forks in Twilight. There might be Vampires in Ohio too.

Yesterday, the rain was coming down in sheets and fog covered the roadways.

Typical Ohio Weather. It forced us to miss the right exit.

My mom and I are travelling to Illinois, this week visiting family. We stopped in Ohio to sleep. It poured rain all night with violent strikes of lightning and thunder. It makes me wonder, is there hope for sun?

Of course you could say all this about another state too.

Pennsylvania.

Relationship Rulebook: Part 1

One of my friends mentioned after I wrote the friend rulebook, that I should do The "Relationship Rulebook."

Since, I'm having a tad bit of writer's block, I think I'm going to dive into this one. Now, some of the rules will overlap, so please forgive me if I do repeat.

Being in a relationship isn't easy stuff. I've said this before in all of my blogs. It may be one of the most difficult things in life to understand. It's not so cut and dry, because those annoying things called feelings get in the way. Most of the rules are unwritten, but I guess now it's time to write them down. Cassidy's rules.


  1. Be Honest With Each Other: Don't start a relationship with lies. Starting a relationship with lies is like wearing a costume all day and everyday, where you can't be yourself. We start lying to cover up our lies to appear better than we are. Don't lie, ever. Fabricating and exaggerating only makes you sink quicker in a puddle of quicksand. I could lie and worry about getting caught. Or I could never get caught because I don't do it. No secrets.

  2. Don't Hook Up if you can't stand each other! : If you initially don't like each other, Don't HOOK UP! I know, again, seems pretty obvious. Now, maybe try to build a friendship relationship if you're stuck dealing with a butthead that hangs out with your group of friends. At the end, you'll either be disgusted, that you hooked up, or thankful you didn't, or waited until you knew each other better. Ok, i get that intense emotion thing, extreme loathing, but is it really that hot?

  3. Don't Be Stupid, if You can't talk about sexual histories and protection, then you aren't mature enough to have sex. If you care AT ALL about the person you're having sex with, neither of you want to wind up pregnant or with Ghonnerea. If all you ever do is touch each other, then you are missing out, because it sure as hell beats walking around with herpes for the rest of your life.

4. Support Each Other: When I'm upset or angry, I want my boyfriend to just hug me when I cry. I want to be able to cry for hours, and be comforted. I too should do that for him, even if he won't cry like me.Open up and vent it out! Now I'm not saying be pessimistic all the time, but tell someone, if not, you'll bitch that anger on the rest of the world, and don't take it out on us. Sometimes a clear head has better thoughts than an angry one. It almost always does.

5. Never go to bed Angry: When you and partner get into a fight, don't play the "You know why I'm upset game." Odds are, they don't know what's wrong, people aren't mindreaders. They may have X-ray vision, but they can't read your mind. Resentment will cuddle next to you instead of your partner. Plus: After you make up? A good reason to get busy. Bonus.

6. Meet the Parents: Yes, they need to meet your parents. Without meeting them, there's this persona that doesn't make any sense.  You can't just honk the horn and have the person run out of the house. Be classier than that. I'm not saying wear a tie and khaki pants hiked up to your armpits like Steve Urkel, but at least make a good impression!

Sporting your tattoos to the parents first day? Not the best bet. (again nothing against tattoos, but they should like your personality first.)

I'm no relationship expert, I think these are good starts though for a healthy honest sexful relationship.

There will be more to come on love, sex, romance, and more advice. Night