Starlight Rosepetal


No, I haven’t forgotten this is technically a food blog.

I promise.

I’ve just been a little lacking in the creativity department with limited resources and time and general laziness.

But this morning, I had this.

If you’re thinking Wait, I’m pretty sure my grandma eats Weetabix, you are probably right.

And grandmas are wonderful.

So I’m ok with being one of them.

I also woke up at 6am just because.

Yes, my soul is older than dirt.

Far more exciting though, I applied for my first creative writing class this morning.

I think I’m taking the plunge, making the switch, kissing podcasts, news quizzes and practicality goodbye.

I’m nervous. I hope I like it. I hope I don’t completely suck.

But again, I’m content knowing that this is for me whatever the outcome. Whether or not I change my mind once more.

It’s for little me huddled under the covers with a flashlight reading long after she was supposed to go to bed.

Me whose favorite part of Christmas was always the guaranteed new book under the tree.

Me who’s kept a journal on and off since she could hold a pen.

And then tore up several containing her thoughts, poems, musings terrified that someone would uncover her secret soul.

Me who debated and then decided she couldn’t be creative, she couldn’t have people actually knowing what she thinks, she needed to be realistic.

Me that has suddenly decided to say who cares? and finds that her favorite part of the day is casting her random thoughts off into cyberspace quickly typed and barely thought out as they are. And who loves using adjectives, adverbs, metaphors and

ran dom




Inverted pyramid, you are great, you are wonderful.

7am cramming the headlining stories of The New York Times into my head, you were amazing.

Really, I learned a lot.

But mostly, I learned that you are not the one for me.

Let’s stay friends though, because I do still really like you.

Ugh. I feel like a tool just writing that.

But really, I’m not like all the others. I mean it. It’s not you, it’s me.

Yup, still feel like a tool.

Oh well, I will still take advantage of you. Still read the newspaper in the morning, keep subscribing to read all that wonderful die-hard journalists have in store for me.

I hope you’ll forgive me. I just can’t help myself. I want it all.

Anyways, one more for the “useless” major team!

Because let’s be honest – even if I was majoring in astrophysics, there’s still a 37.456% chance I will end up dancing around with a band of hippies at some point and naming my kids Dances with Rainbows and Starlight Rosepetal and be perfectly happy.

I’m sort of kidding.

But sort of not.


4 Responses to “Starlight Rosepetal”

  1. oh come on dude, keep it real with the loser. journalism majors can’t get jobs either haha

  2. what?? creative writing class? I want to sign up!!! Is it online? Where do I go??
    and I’m totally old as well. I retire and rise early and I knit. Also I love bran.
    You’ll be great. I can tell because you have voice in your posts. There is no one way to be a creative writer. So just let loose and have fun 🙂

    • Its for next semester when I’m back at Emory! They make people apply separately to take the courses to keep them small.

      Love that you get my oldsterness.

      & thank you! I love your posts as well. 🙂

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