Sunday, March 14, 2010 | By: Brianna

Good Thing...

"Good thing my daughter's focused."

What does that mean?
After talking about whether a friend has "what it takes" to get through four years of design school, that's what my dad comes out with.
"Good thing my daughter's focused."
What does he mean by "focused"? Focused on my studies? Focused on skating by with a decent grade on that paper I wrote the night before it was due? Focused on what I'm going to do all weekend when I'm not on duty? Does he know I want to be a novelist? That I want to write fiction, ridiculous things about plastic lawn flamingos, a girl that wears enough clothes to clothe a third world country and a green snakeskin hand bag with an attitude? Does he know that I want to pick up a French major so I can actually understand what Edith Piaf, Renan Luce and Kyo have to say? Does he know that I'm really focused on figuring out what I'm going to do next year when I should probably be doing my homework for Philosophy? Does he know that "focus" doesn't really have a definition for me with my scatterbrained thought process? Does he know that while he watches a Shania Twain concert online that I'm upstairs typing about how I don't know what he means by "focus"? Does he realize that I have more questions about "focus" than I could ever have about the nature of pickle relish? (Why IS it so green anyway?)

Okay. So maybe I'm latching onto one word and expanding it into something ramble-worthy. Very possible. Probable, actually. I should be focused on re-learning what little French grammar I knew before so I can dive into whatever classes I want to take for that wonderful French minor I've got my eye on. Or maybe I should be focused on an idea for that brilliant novel I'll write one day. Or focused on watching the second Back to the Future movie with my brother and getting him to stop playing Xbox for a little while.
Or maybe I should just stop writing about what I think "focus" really is.


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