It's a start...

The reason I'm writing a blog is because I think what I have to say is important. Not necessarily important on a large scale... but important in the "Look at this girl's life; look what she does; hah, it sounds like a cheap rip off of a late nineties teen movie." My life is ridiculous, and I want to share it. I think it's all worth reading. If anything, these writings are inspired by the fact that someone out there must be as bored as I was in my Intro to Women's Studies class, and I'm hoping that they are desperately searching for some mildly amusing blog to read.

This is that blog.

I guess the first thing I should say is that all of these will be mostly real. I'm going to change everyone's names so that I don't have an army of angry college students and pissed off politicians coming after me, but, other than that, I'm going to try and keep everything close to the facts. 

So here goes:

My name is Seabiscuit. Obviously, it's not my real name. It's not even really a valid nickname. It's something I've been called on occasion, and it's something that will prevent you, dear reader, from ever figuring out my real name. My real name isn't important. What is important is what I do, and what the people around me do. 

I'm a college student at an in-state university; I went out of state to an almost-Ivy-League school, and I lost my mind. I guess it's slowly coming back (keyword: slowly). I wasn't there very long before I came home. I come from a super small coastal town; if you haven't been there, you wouldn't understand. It's populated by about 300 people, sometimes a little less, but in the summer about 30,000 people reside there. I am a politician's daughter. Trust me, you can tell. I get "Oh, Seabiscuit, you're so much TALLER than the last time I saw you!" Well, yes, that happens when the last time you saw me was fifteen years ago when I was five. I may as well add that I am twenty years old now, and none too happy about turning twenty-one soon. My friends are going to kill me. Dear God. I'm graduating college a year early. I will have my bachelors in both English and Art History. If you tell me to get a real degree, I'll probably hate you forever- look what good I'm putting my English degree to already! Without my writing skills, I couldn't be entertaining you here, now could I? 

This seems like a good enough start. Plus, as you'll come to see, I'm secretly a ninety year old woman- I love going to bed before ten o'clock. I like a solid twelve to fourteen hours of sleep, if possible. So good night, world. I'll have more stories tomorrow, I'm sure.