August Blues

As a kid, were you happy or anxious about going back to school? Now that you’re older, how has your attitude toward the end of the summer evolved?

We’ve all heard it before.

“I’m not ready for this summer to be over!”

“Ugh, I don’t want to back to school yet.”

I just don’t agree with them.

As a kid, my family wasn’t big into vacations. We’d go on a nice weekend trip to see family, but never anything like a trip to Disneyland or a week-long cruise. Don’t worry, Mom and Dad; I’m not mad about that. Looking back, that trip to Disneyland probably would’ve been a nightmare compared to those trips I loved to take to Connecticut to see my aunt and uncle. Give me the Mark Twain house over two-hour-long lines for everything any day. I’m being completely serious here.  Continue reading


Why, Thank You?

What’s the best (or rather, worst) backhanded compliment you’ve ever received? If you can’t think of any — when’s the last time someone paid you a compliment you didn’t actually deserve?

Growing up, I always thought my family was pretty humorless. Turns out, my mom’s just not particularly good with comedic timing and all of my dad’s jokes were too sophisticated or inappropriate for me as a kid. It was a pretty significant transformation when I went into college; even though my brother’s still in high school, the jokes in the family have escalated quite a bit, and one thing in particularly we all love to do is to doll out those backhanded compliments.

None of them are necessarily the best, but they’re just constant. It’s easier to give backhanded compliments to family members since we all know each other better than anyone else.  Continue reading

Discussion Enders

We’ve all had exchanges where we came up with the perfect reply — ten minutes too late. Write down one of those, but this time, make sure to sign off with your grand slam (unused) zinger.

I’ve found that a lot of unused zingers are not always necessarily clever so much as very meaningful. Now, that can make said zinger a page-long monologue or a single word. As Stephen King said, “The most important things are the hardest to say.”

I was going to turn this into a story about a girl facing some friend drama at school and dealing with it by thinking that one-word, censor-worthy zinger in her head after certain witty and sassy conversations occur, but I stopped. I hate dealing with drama in real life, and writing about it is almost worse.  Continue reading

You, Robot

Congrats — you’ve been handed a robot whose sole job is to relieve you of one chore, job, or responsibility you particularly hate. What is it?

I don’t actually mind chores. As a rule, I’m pretty darn lazy so when someone asks me to do a chore I won’t eagerly jump on it, but they’re not that bad. I’ve found I made it a habit to always sing or hum while I wash dishes. It’s gotten to a point where it feels a little wrong doing the dishes in silence or even with my phone playing music, and I have no idea why.

One chore that I cannot abide, however, is taking out the garbage. Or anything to do with garbage. It’s not because of the garbage itself, either. It’s because…

The basement.  Continue reading

Opening Lines

What’s the first line of the last song you listened to (on the radio, on your music player, or anywhere else)? Use it as the first sentence of your post.

(“Changing of the Seasons” — Two Door Cinema Club)

So it’s over? I didn’t realize.

There was a catchy beat playing in his room, but I could feel my heart fluttering in odd and uncomfortable rhythms. I didn’t actually know where he was; as I sat in one of the chairs I twiddled with a twisted corner of my shirt and fixed my stare on the wrinkled fabric, wanting nothing less than to not be in that chair at that moment. Was that a headache building up or was I just tightening my forehead too much again?

Twiddling. Forehead. These were only a few things that had always bothered him.  Continue reading

Pick Your Potion

Captain Picard was into Earl Grey tea; mention the Dude and we think: White Russians. What’s your signature beverage — and how did it achieve that status?


“Wow, Siena, you’re a writer and you love coffee? Your uniqueness is unparalleled.”

Hush, child. I shall relish in the fact that my life is a series of my cliches, as long as I have my coffee. I would tell you all I’m addicted, only I haven’t not drunk coffee for a long enough period of time to be able to tell you whether or not I get headaches from not drinking coffee. Someday I’ll realize how terrible that sentence is (both in terms of meaning and grammar — look at dem negatives. Damn.)  Continue reading

Work? Optional!

If money were out of the equation, would you still work? If yes, why, and how much? If not, what would you do with your free time?

First of all, HALLELUJAH for me finally getting back on a computer after a week with just my phone (hence my short/non-existent posts lately). This feeling is not at all consistent with the fact that I wish I was still in New Mexico with my awesome family and dry weather there, but alas. My hometown even welcomed me with open cloud-arms today as rain poured constantly. “Let me smother you with my love,” it’s saying. “I know you missed this obscenely thick humidity; don’t deny it.”


Why is this question being posed to a community of writers? I do not understand.

Alright, so there are the occasional doctors, bankers, and lawyers who have blogs, but I feel like so many bloggers write because that’s what they do with the rest of their lives too.  Continue reading