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March 13, 2006

Ghost Writer

I have a confession to make. I'm a ghost writer. I am the voice behind the papers written for a community college contemporary cinema class and I love it.

Now, I know I'm not supposed to write my boyfriend's paper. I do realize that I'm taking his opportunity to produce quality materials on his own. But it started off innocently enough. I mean all I meant to do was edit it. And then we started talking about the point of the movie - the first being American Beauty - and we talked about the essence of the film, and in discussing it, I had to capture what we said, and so I edited it a bit more, until it said what we said in my words.

I have a lot of words. Sometimes I think they are so good, and mostly they come out sounding pompous and full of themselves. The words of course, not me. It's just that I have this desire to capture the dramatic point of something -you know, drive it home with some punchy one-liner that will summarize everything I've been saying to someone clever enough to decipher my meaning. Of course, clever isn't really a prerequisite - the one-liner isn't usually that smart, but man, it tries.

In the middle of my day

I'm choosing colors - bright, bold, brash, alliterative colors with fancy names made up by someone with too much time on his hands. I'm going to immerse myself in Tiger Stripe, Carmelized Copper and Chestnut Stallion until the colors bleed over my fingers and take me into a brand new layer, a presentation layer of earth and rust.