Abi Peck's Howdy-Do

        On September 20, 1999, a star was born.  Or so I think, the universe is vast and I assume stars are created and destroyed through out all of time and space. On a less interesting note, on the same day in a small town in the allegheny foothills, I was born. Pennsylvania born and bred, I hail from the keystone state, although I consider the bluegrass my home. My father comes from a long line of engineers, teachers and Kentucky Colonels. My mother was born in Lexington, grew up in Richmond and went to high school in Winchester; her father, my grandpa Bentley, is a loyal distributor of Kentucky's elixir, Ale-8-one. Since the stage is set, I will get to the meat of this biographic sandwich. I have had a rough go of it this last year, with severe depression and anxiety, my school efforts may appear subpar, but I have great expectations. I have all the potential to be a great student, but I bear the gifted student's curse. Procrastination. I aspire to do well on the AP exams and majorly improve my writing skill, as my mother once put it, "You write as if English were your second language!" In my defense, my education until Henry Clay has been mediocre; education was not on the governor's agenda, and all the schools took major spending cuts.
        There is something special shared between a human and an animal working together in tandem, becoming one being. One of my many passions (it's unfortunate, I have the tendency of a bulldog, grasping, obsessive, dedicated) is horseback riding and horses in general, in all honesty if I could, I would leave society to live among the gorgeous beasts. Many grow out of the infatuation, but I am certain I won't. There have been many great horses in my life, they have taught me more than any person ever has.
       Book. My first coherent word. Not "momma" or "dada" but book. I have always loved books. I used to drive my dad crazy, no sooner had he finished reading a story to me than I was begging for it to be read again. Literature is the basis of who I am, without reading I would be completely ignorant as would anyone else in that situation. I am a big advocate for literacy.
      A dangerous question: "What Makes You Geek Out?" I love British television. Not Doctor Who, I think it's garbage, but Sherlock and Peaky Blinders are grade A in my book. I have two brothers and something my youngest brother and I share is Shonda Rhimes' Scandal. Olivia Pope is our problematic hero. Grape Juice and popcorn is a necessary ritual. And not to go without mention, the obscene amount of times I've read the pages of Gone With the Wind. I could provide a full monologue.
       God provided me with a gift. I am a person of great faith, but do not label me as religious, it has a bad taste when you say it. But on with the show. The one compliment I allow myself is the fact that I am an excellent artist. If it weren't true I surely wouldn't say. It's the only thing I'm truly good at. Forget sports or music, fine arts are my bag. I hope to become a professor of fine arts, to be paid a decent wage and have my own studio space. That would be a swell life.
       I may be quiet and appear to be standoffish, but I have a story to tell. Everyone has their contributions. And though we are an ocean of voices, every droplet is needed to make the waves. I intend to learn every patch to this class' quilt, just as I hope I will be sought out. I would not usually be so windy, but as I'm a stranger in these parts, so to speak.

(Pennsylvania style riding: bareback, shaggy, dusty, and indoors because of four foot snow drifts. This trusty steed's name is Red.)