Mine's not a high horse!

As a young child, I had always known that I wasn't like most others in my grade. I remember my best friends telling me I wasn't "a real kid" simply because, instead of frolicking in the mud, I would always opt to stay home and write "essays" on my sister's typewriter (mind you, this was before the computer or laptop phenomena hit). I would spend hours in our town library, reading and researching whatever topics intrigued my seven-year-old self at the time. From Greek mythology to the English Renaissance to the big cats in Africa, I would always take what I had learned and make it the subject of my written work.

Now, 12 years later, my penchant for writing has remained unwavering through years of puberty, adolescence, first-times, death, depression--everything. It's been a constant in my life during periods of chaos and moments of calm. It's the only thing I can see myself doing for the rest of my life, which brings me here: a first-year journalism student at Wilfrid Laurier University. I'm hoping my four years treat me well, and if not, maybe I'll just write about it...