First Semester of my "Victory Lap" and other things, possibly.

I spent all summer waiting for this. The first three weeks or so were fun, but after two months of T.J. Maxx and arguments with mom, I was so ready to get back to the world of academia. And now, after my first three days of classes, I finally understand the purpose of summer vacation.
Three days, and I'm already stressed.
I registered for 18 credit hours, because after two straight semesters of 12 credits, I was bored out of my skull and ready for a challenge. Turns out...18 credits is a bigger challenge than I needed to take on. So I dropped Black Women Writers (-sadly-) and now I'm settled (but still stressed) at 15.

-insert awkward "a professor just mistook me for someone else" moment here-

Anyway, I finally settled on Music History I, Early Shakespeare, American Popular and Mass Cultures, Romanticism and Music and Advanced Writing I: The Essay. ...heavy and terrifying courseload, but hopefully a lot of fun too.

Music History is already kicking my ass. Not kidding. All this terminology I barely recognize from two+ years ago, heavy reading and TONS of work. But the professor is funny and he keeps you engaged, even when the material is dryer than the bones of the composers we're discussing. (Oh that was a good one--I just impressed myself).

I was not excited at all about Shakespeare. Not even a little. I am not a big fan of his plays, but I needed a major author course and my original choice got changed from 2pm to 8am...no thank you, so here I am. It seems okay so far, but we'll see when I actually get into the reading. -_-

Am. Pop & Mass Cult. is already awesome. Not even kidding. We get to blog about things for a grade, and there is one day that the syllabus simply says "Gilmore Girls." The only thing better would have been "Castle." Oh man. I don't even know how to put my excitement into words.

Romanticism and Music is taught by the same professor that taught my 60s music class a few semesters back. I considered dropping this, but after the first class, I couldn't bring myself to do it. It just sounds so interesting and will be a nice contrast to the dry early music history I'm taking in that other class.

And then there's Advanced Writing. The class I've been most looking forward to this semester. Professor Nez is easily my second favorite professor in the department, following only Prof. Kaplin, and she makes me so excited about writing that we could be writing about music history and I'd still be excited. (Are you noticing a pattern here?) Unfortunately, one of the most annoying girls I've met since coming to Fredonia is in the class, but I'm still excited, because I've learned to tune her out.

All in all, this semester is shaping up to be awesome, even if it is stressful to the max. Hopefully, blogging for 208 will inspire me to start blogging more outside the realm of tumblr--which is still fun and a go-to platform for me, but not really the best place for day to day blogs like this one.

Who knows?

And now I leave you with my cat in a box too tiny for his body:

xoxo
Allyson Rae

Why I love studying English at the State University of New York at Fredonia

The English department at SUNY Fredonia is more than just an academic department for me—it has become a home. I’ve always loved words: the way they can be strung together in an infinite amount of combinations and always mean something new. But for the longest time, I had my heart set on a career in music. Obviously, that plan did not come to fruition, and I spent a year majoring in psychology, just trying to keep myself afloat. When I realized I was miserable and desperately needed a change, I sought out the English department chair for advice. The minute I stepped into her office, the entire atmosphere shifted. I felt more at ease than I had in months, and I knew it was where I belonged. Since changing my major, I’ve been challenged both as a student and as a person, and I’ve made enormous strides toward becoming the person I want to be. Through spirited intellectual debates and challenging research and writing assignments, I’ve found myself growing increasingly passionate about subjects I’d never thought of or thought I’d take an interest in. Of the many assignments I’ve completed, one has changed my life immeasurably. I was given the opportunity to complete a research project of my own design relating to English and literary study in any way. As a die-hard fan of the television series Castle, I chose to focus my assignment on the idea of television being a form of literature, using examples from the series to support my claim. After completing the project, I used social media to catch the attention of Castle series creator Andrew W. Marlowe, who took the time to read my paper and reply through twitter. This seemingly innocuous event garnered attention from not only my immediate supervising professor, but the English department as a whole, as well as the college campus newspaper and PR department. The success of this paper has opened my eyes to the option of going into a field of study relating to literary study and television in some form, which is something I’d never considered—and wouldn’t have without the opportunity to research something I was passionate about. That’s what I love about Fredonia. The professors here really care and take a real interest in their students—both in and out of the classroom—and are constantly going above and beyond to help us succeed. They want us to study what we love and love what we study, and they push us beyond what we think we can do into the realm of the impossible. Without the support and motivation from my professor, I never would have been able to complete the kind of project I did, and having the freedom to choose what I really wanted to talk about allowed me to actually be excited about the things I was researching. While my future career is still a mystery, every day I’m finding more and more doors being opened to new and exciting possibilities.

This scholarship is sponsored by CenturyLinkQuote.com.

April 3rd

From my 365 day writing project, A Year's Worth of Words (allysonraewrites.tumblr.com)

I remember the cracks and pops of his bones as they
settled into their rightful place with the stretch of his tired limbs,
the aching muscles protesting with the first movement of the morning.
A moan of satisfaction pouring from deep within his throat
and washing over me with the sweetness and slickness of honey, dripping
from the top of the smiling bear’s head. Settling back against the pillows,
still warm from the heat of his body, he’d sigh and reach for me,
tangling the unkempt strands of hair around his fingers, while he
thought I still slept soundly beside him.

He should have known better; the absence of my soft snoring—which
I still insist is merely fabrication—his first clue to my state of wakefulness,
but if he did know, he didn’t show it. I’d feel his fingers as they
caressed my scalp, before slowly sliding free from the tawny
locks of silk and sweat and tracing his fingertips along the curve of my
spine, playing each vertebrae like the bells of a xylophone.

When I’d finally turn to face him, his gaze would lock with mine,
a heaven of milk  chocolate encased beneath those eyelashes, and for
a moment I felt like that greedy Augustus Gloop, hopelessly drowning in
a river of the sweetest chocolate on Earth. And maybe I was, only
I was greedy for his kiss, his touch,  his taste: sweeter than
any chocolate money could buy. And with him, I was hopelessly drowning
in a love I could not escape from. To this day, I am still.

Through drowsy, half-lidded eyes, I’d watch that grin creep
across his face, likened to that of the Cheshire Cat, hungry with longing
and desire. I’d curl myself into the warmth of his side, my hip pressed into
his thigh and breathe him in, slowly steadying myself for the onslaught
of emotion that still took me by surprise with each kiss. His lips, soft and
warm against mine felt like home, and he tasted of the coffee and stale
cigarettes left over from our late night of whispered words and
promises we swore we’d never break.

Only we did break them, somewhere between
“I love you,” and “it’s over,” we forgot the things we
always said we’d do, the plans we made in the misty haze of a forever
that ended too soon. And now I’m left to be swallowed whole in
those milky chocolate memories of a winter that felt far less cold.

A Year's Worth of Words, twitter-famous, and other randomness...

I don't really use this blog at all anymore. I've taken to doing all my blogging on Tumblr. Mostly because all I want to do is fangirl over Castle. And because I only have 7 followers here...versus 200-something there.

But I did want to post a link here, in case someone cool/important/famous happens across this page.

This started New Years' Day as my New Years' Resolution. I write. Every day. Just one thing. Whatever I'm inspired to write. Every day for a year. And it's the first resolution I haven't broken within a week. So so far, so good.

anyway, you can find it here: A Year's Worth of Words

Also, my main Tumblr: allthe-songs-makesense

Anyway, I do have a cool story to share with all...7 of you. It started with a research paper I wrote in my Intro to the English Major course last semester. Television as Literature: Castle and Detective Fiction – An Analysis. I earned an A from Dr. Simon, and posted it to my blog. You can read it here, if you'd like.

I think I will just post a copy of the e-mail I sent to our University's Director of PR...it sums up the story better than I can right now.

Hello,

I just shared an exciting moment in my life with one of my professors, and Dr. Simon thought it was a story I should share with you. So I am taking his advice.

I suppose I should start by introducing myself. My name is Allyson, and I am a 4th year student here at Fredonia majoring in English. Last semester, I was taking a course with Dr. Simon, An Introduction to the English Major, and our final project was a research project, of our own design, that we would propose and complete as a final 10 page paper. I decided to focus my research on the idea of television as literature, using examples from my favorite television show, Castle as support for my argument. If you aren't familiar, Castle is an hour-long police procedural focusing on a team of homicide detectives that solve crimes with the help of Richard Castle, a murder mystery and crime novelist. There is something about this show that makes it stand out to me as more of an art form than just a television show, and it made a great topic of focus for my project.

Dr. Simon deemed my paper worthy of an A, and so I decided to post the paper on my blog page, where I interact with a lot of other Castle fans all over the world. And one night a few days ago, I got a crazy idea: What if I could actually get someone from the show to read this paper? So, on a whim, I tweeted a link to the blog page containing my paper to Castle's creator Andrew W. Marlowe, as well as his wife and fellow Castle writer Terri Edda Miller, and the show's two main leads, Nathan Fillion and Stana Katic. I didn't really expect anything to come of it. About two in the morning, my phone starts going off, waking me with a Twitter notification. It turns out Marlowe not only saw my tweet, but read my paper, and deemed it worthy enough to earn a response. I was floored. He tweeted me back saying that he hoped my teacher thought I deserved an "A," because he sure thought I earned one for my efforts. I never imagined I would get any response, let alone a response that positive. That tweet also led to an insane amount of traffic on my blog the next couple days, from people all over the world.

It doesn't seem like much: just a 140 character response from a real Hollywood television writer, but to a girl from little Fredonia, NY...it meant something huge. All from an assignment I was given in a class where I had the freedom to write what I wanted to write about. That's what I love about Fredonia. The professors here (especially those in the English department--although I may be biased ;) ) really care about their students. They want us to study what we love and love what we study, and they push us beyond what we think we can do into the realm of the impossible. Without the support and motivation from Dr. Simon, I never would have been able to complete the kind of project I did, and having the freedom to choose what I really wanted to talk about allowed me to actually be excited about the things I was researching. And now I can cross "getting tweeted by a famous person" off my bucket list.

Anyway, I just wanted to share my experience, and serve as living proof that good things--impossible things--can happen to anyone, even in a college town as tiny as Fredonia.

So, as you can see...I've had a very interesting and exciting couple weeks. This story has gotten spread around the English Dept. Faculty listserv, and apparently has gotten great responses from the faculty. It' s also gotten attention from the PR office, and a Human Interest story was just posted on Fredonia's website, as well as being covered in an article in The Leader, SUNY Fredonia's student newspaper. It's also inspired me in my career ideas, as I'm considering going into television either the industry itself (writing or something) or maybe doing research and in-depth analysis like this as a scholar (grad school? maybe?). This has been an AMAZING experience. One that I never dreamed of, and something that is producing some really great opportunities for me.

I probably won't update here for another...few months. So if you want, you can catch up with me on tumblr. :)

xoxo
Allyson

June 6, 2011

Someone told me recently that I don't take enough risks. I spend far too much time alone. and I do. I retreat into a world of fictional characters, lose myself in books and television shows, analyze character development and relationships. All within the confines of my bedroom walls. I used to take risks. I used to reach out to other people and show them who I was. I used to open myself up to people in hopes that something wonderful would happen, but it never did. I would get shot down, torn apart & left to bleed and suffer alone. It got to the point where it was just easier to retreat into myself and avoid pain. He told me that by not taking those risks I was missing out on life, and what better reward was there than taking a risk and finding my other half? Except to me, that reward is out of reach; completely unattainable. That isn't in the cards for me. Plato derived that soulmates originated with the idea that man once had four arms, four legs and two faces. But the god Zeus was threatened by the power that they possessed and so he split them apart, condemning us to spend the rest of our lives searching for our other half, our missing piece--the other being who would complete us. Some people get lucky - they search for a time and stumble across that person, and finally feel complete. People like me? We aren't so lucky. We go through life searching and waiting, and trying again; giving away pieces of our hearts until we are even less complete than we were before and have nothing to show for it. And I'm tired of giving myself away to people who will only hurt me. I've become more and more rational in my decision making, not allowing myself to take a risk or make a gamble, deciding instead that I am better off alone. When you are alone, no one can hurt you. When you don't rely on anyone else, you have no choice but to be strong for yourself. And then he asked me what was stopping me from taking those risks; from making those gambles. He, the person who I had probably come the closest to finding my missing piece in; he, who knows me better than anyone, inside and out. He is the only person I ever 100% let my guard down with and the only person who ever compelled me to be 100% honest about how I felt. In asking me what held me back, he knew I'd have no choice but to be honest, with him and with myself. And so I admitted my fears; my fear of disappointment, of rejection, of all the things I believed about myself being proven true. And he asked where those fears come from. He of all people should know, but I answered him anyway. Goodbye is the only thing I have ever known. The minute I start to feel comfortable and let my guard down, it's as if an earthquake comes along and the ground drops out from beneath me and I lose everything. I lose all control. i lose myself. And it hurts. It hurts to be proven correct, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that you are okay for a time, but you will never be good enough for forever. That you will always be left because no one cares enough to stay. That no one will ever be willing to fight for you because you are not worth fighting for. It's painful and it's shattering and I never want to feel like that again. So it is safer to hide away behind my bedroom door, in front of a television screen, in the words of fanfiction written in the early morning hours as night turns to day. It's where I feel safe, it's where i know that no one can touch me; no one can hurt me--I can never be abandoned if I'm alone from the start. And maybe I am missing out. Maybe there is this part of life I don't get to experience because I keep myself hidden away. But I find that I really don't even care anymore. It hurts too much to be abandoned, and I would much rather sacrifice finding my soulmate than open up and be left alone again, with nothing more than another scar and a little less of myself to show for it. I never imagined at 21 that this is what my life would become. But it has and it is, and somewhere deep inside of me, I guess I can't say I'm surprised. Maybe I did know all along.

I haven't written here in a really long time

& I wish I had something to write about, but I really don't. I haven't really done much lately. I've been trying to avoid thinking, because thinking leads to problems. I'm just writing papers, reading books, and trying to survive the next two weeks without killing myself.
*insert deep thought here*
I'm watching the Doors movie because I'm reading a biography of Jim Morrison for my book review in Music, and I am utterly fascinated with the Doors. The story of Jim Morrison and the Doors is intriguing, addicting, riveting and dirty. & I'm fascinated.

it's a first kiss, it's flawless, really something; it's fearless ♥

I just had the most amazing day. I got up around 11, got ready for work left around noon & we stopped at BK Lounge, since I'd been craving it for 20 million years. I had to work 1 to 6, and it's hard to work when you are anticipating something so much. They stuck me in fitting room, which would be fine on a normal day. But with nothing to do, the time drags on. So. Slow. After three hours of that, they pulled me out of there to go run 60 Housewares stuff. I spent the next hour and a half PRAYING for six o'clock. & when it came...I was so happy. haha. A bunch of people knew about the date so they're all like..."OMG Allyson, good luck." hahaha. & I was laughing & I went outside and...there he was. So we went to Wing City, and ate...and it was so funny 'cause he was awkward and nervous and it was so cute. & he held my hand and it fit and I was like...this is it. So he wanted to kill time so we went to Walmart and wandered around holding hands and looking at random shit and talking. Then he drove me home, and we talked some more, and he reached over and held my hand until we got to my house and then we sat there. In the car. & we're both like...ummmm. & he's like "Id ask if you wanted to kiss, but I dunno if that's too soon or something..." and I'm like "Well...no, I don't think it is." and we both kinda leaned in and bumped noses and like...it was that awkward sort of perfect where you're both nervous and shy and its adorable and perfect and my heart skipped a beat and he smelled really good and his hand fit perfect with mine and he's like "I hope this lasts." and like...I couldn't catch my breath and I'm like...I guess I have to get out of the car now haha. Its just so cute 'cause he gets all shy and awkward and I think its adorable and I don't know. I'm just so happy I can't breathe and I had to write it all down so I wouldn't ever forget this moment. ♥