I really, really don’t want to go back to school. Even though I have good classes (a nice mix of the challenging with the kind in which I’ll get lots of letters written), even though I’m taking Beginning Ballet (I went to get my very own ballet slippers yesterday afternoon), even though UD is going to have its own swing club (ever so much more convenient), even though I’ll get to see JJ and Prof. X, even though the start of a new semester may mean that my long financial nightmare may be over – even with all that, I still don’t want to go back to school.
It doesn’t help that I just looked back through some old journals and realized that I felt exactly the same way this time last year.
Here’s something good: Guess who took 1st Prize in the Ohio Poetry Day Welcome Aboard Poetry Competition! Go on, guess! No, really, guess! Oh, alright, I’ll tell you… it’s me! Yup, me! Little ol’ me. Hee hee hee! Me, Bernadette, your old friend and pal! I am now officially a Prizewinning Poet. I know. Amazing, but true. I saw it in black and white. Well, actually it was more black and beige (the results were printed on buff colored paper). I had been scanning down the list of contests checking the Honorable Mentions for my name, and there it was under First Prize. Astounding. I was flabbergasted. I stood there in a daze saying things like, “Me, a Prizewinning Poet.” and, “I won First Prize.” and laughing in between. My father (the only other one around at the time) beamed at me, gave me a hug, and offered me ripe peaches to celebrate with. The rest of my family was much more blase about it (Average reaction: “That’s nice.”), which was a bit of a come down, but still, it was pretty cool. Sometime in October I’ll take a little trip up to Heidelberg College, take part in said Ohio Poetry Day, and collect my certificate, a copy of the anthology containing my Prizewinning Poem, and a check for $35. Pretty sweet.
I’m, like, a real poet or something.