Change of Major

Dare I say it...

I haven't been instructed to read short stories in a long while, much less write about them. The last short stories I recall reading from high school that I loved were, "The Death of Ivan Ilyich", "Young Goodman Brown", "Samuel" & "The Occurrence at Owl creek Bridge"

Tonight my assignment is to read "Hills Like White Elephants" and, "The Black Man and White Woman in the Green Boat" (or something like that<<)

I absolutely love short stories, and I love writing about them. I can say that I enjoy this almost as much as I enjoy acting. I could sit in my room for days on end and read, and only now have I been reminded of it. 

[This is not a suck up section Daddy....] I am extremely grateful that my father exposed me to books, stories and poetry before the school systems ever did. I feel like it gives me a heads up. Dad had me reading a lot of Poe's short stories, which fascinated me. The re-reading them in my English course allows me to see them more clearly and decipher what they mean. It's good to know what we're talking about in class. Thanks Pop. 

Weighing The Dog

It is awkward for me and bewildering for him 

as I hold him in my arms in the small bathroom,

balancing our weight on the shaky blue scale,

but this is the way to weigh a dog and easier 

than training him to sit obediently on one spot

with his tongue out, waiting for a cookie.

With pencil and paper I subtract my weight 

from our total to find out the remainder that is his, 

and I start to wonder if there is an analogy here.

It could not have to do with my leaving you 

though I never figured out what you amounted to

until I subtracted myself from our combination.

You held me in your arms more than I held you 

through all those awkward and bewildering months

and now we are both lost in strange and distant

neighborhoods. 

-Billy Collins