SeaGoat Writing Club: 06/19/14

A letter to the past, bending genders through writing, and trip to the graveyard.

Exercise One (10 min)

Write a letter to your teenage self.

Attempt One

Most of the things I want to say would seem silly to you because you’d think they were so obvious. I know for a fact, however, that you wouldn’t believe them even if I did tell you. You certainly wouldn’t appreciate the value.

So instead of sharing actual realizations with you, I want to try and share the value of coming to realizations on your own ( which I suppose you’re thinking is stupid, because that, itself, is a realization … yes you’re a bit of an intellectual snob).

Life is long. It’s really really long. So long that it’s impossible to tell you how long. All the things that matter right now will still matter in the future, but they won’t affect you anymore. What will affect you is the …

Attempt Two

Try something new every time you have the chance. Make yourself as uncomfortable as possible as often as you’re able. Never stop moving. Only sit still when you are absolutely physically exhausted. Make as many friends as you can. Travel to new places. Go places that you’ve been told are unsafe.

Exercise Two

Gender Bender: What does he/she look like, smell like, job, a day in the life of … a girl my age.

“Have you hiked Torrey Pines? It’s one of my fav spots.” — Message from Dave

44 minutes pass. It’s now 3:43pm.

“I love it up there. Sometimes I go for runs up the old road and wander the trails down to the beach at Sunset. It’s so beautiful there.” — Message to Dave

3 hours and 51 minutes pass.

“You’re pretty cute in all your pics. Want to trade Facebook Profiles?” — Message from Jeff

4 minutes pass.

“Sure. My last name is Rowwe, with two double u’s!! :)” — Message to Jeff

16 minutes pass. It’s now 7:54pm.

The pace at which Jennifer Rowwe was consuming her most recent novel was painfully slow. Her mind was on the four online dating conversations she was currently engaged in. Or, so she thought to herself, “periodically, and for briefs moments involved in. Otherwise, distracted by.”

She picked up her phone and effortlessly flipped it around in her left hand, pressing the home button, and bringing it to life with a swipe … all in one fluid motion … hoping she had simply missed message alerts because she was so deeply engaged by her book. She knew she wasn’t and she hadn’t, but she checked anyway.

Almost as if she had picked her phone up by accident, she tossed it back on the love seat next her. She hated that she felt embarrassed for looking at it even though no one was around to see. It stung and made her mad. Gulping the rest of her Merlot, she hastily tossed the book aside without marking her place, knowing she could pick it up later as she only had a few pages remaining. “Unfinished,” she thought, “just like everything else.”

She had one more glass of wine, while she dealt with her laundry that night. Every piece of clothing folded nicely, smelling nicely, and gently placed exactly where she had planned for that piece of clothing to be in her apartment. Everything was in perfect order around the house, and she chuckled out loud to herself as she purposely put the empty wine glass on it’s side in the perfectly clean sink, letting the remnants run out and down the drain. “I’ll wash that tomorrow.” she said with proud sass.

She always slept in cute flowered pajama bottoms with matching tops. She had three pairs, but only her friend Angie had ever seen her in them. Only Angie had ever seen them, period. If anyone stayed over, she had a selection of boys-small boxers, or, if she had been drinking, one pair of lacy boy shorts that showed the crease at the underside of her butt.

— -
Jennifer, or Jen, or Jenna (actually she preferred her childhood nickname Jenny, but no one ever called her that anymore) … woke up from a relatively peaceful slumber in the valley between her four king size down pillows, fully wrapped in the ocean created by her foam green/grey Chevron patterned comforter. A gentle breeze blew down on her from the fan above as she slinked out from under the covers. The slight haze from three and a half glasses of wine kept her mind peaceful for a full fifteen minutes before the weight of thirty two (almost thirty three) once again became her burden.

Exercise Three

THE SETTING IS A GRAVEYARD, BUT USE THE GRAVEYARD AS A SYMBOL OF LIGHT, BRIGHTNESS, OR HUMOR. WHAT’S HAPPENING IN THE STORY THAT FLIPS THIS PERSPECTIVE? NOTHING CREEPY OR SAD AND NO DEATH OR GHOSTS.

I was so energized when his fingers first brushed past mine, that I actually pulled my hand away. I wanted him to touch me anywhere … everywhere. We had been walking so closely for so long that an unconscious response to move my hand could only move it away. I quickly corrected, or overcorrected, and more than brushed his hand. I actually kind of punched the bulge of his upper thigh. It wasn’t on purpose, but this simple act removed all the tension. A second unconscious movement resulted in us holding hands before the thought had fully materialized in my head.

I giggled very quietly, and then looked up to smile at him and say something. But he was already smiling and staring off into the distance. I think he was as pleased with himself as I was with my own self. He looked confident and proud and it made me warm.

“Oh my god … where are we?” I asked as we came up over a small hill into a clearing. The woods had consumed most of our walk. “Is this the spot you wanted to bring me to?”

“Definitely not,” he replied, confused.

Tombstones were everywhere.

“To be honest,” he said, “we’re kind of lost.” He looked down at me and smiled again. He meant it that we were lost, but neither of us cared.

“We’re not lost as long as we’re together.” I immediately blushed, but so did he. Thank god. This was only our second date. “So … have you ever made out in a Graveyard before?” I couldn’t believe that comment had chased the previous one. Who am I right now? Andrew has only ever touched the skin of my hand yet I feel like he’s completely inside me.

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t see him bending down until he was already kissing me. My arms went numb and my hand slipped out of his and fell to my side. Both of his were on either side of my face … his gentle finger tips lightly warming the skin of my cheeks.