Olivia+Richards

Project Proposal with Rubric out of 100 points: My project will be set in North Penn Institution for the Criminally Insane (formally known as North Penn High School.) The project will be in the format of a diary, written by the newest patient who has committed a crime that she does not have any memory of. Members of our very own zany creative writing class will become inmates with actual mental disorders who the main character will interact with as she tries to discover what exactly landed her in this place.

COMMENTS: David Kang -teh c0mm3ntz )v(@zT@- Sorry about the obnoxious tagline and the dumb entourage (the COMMENTS: and his thirty-seven cousins won't leave me be) Now onto the third entry! I love Einstein girl!!! Though for some crazy reason all I can picture of her is floating hair and a beautiful, though squeaky, rendition of "I Believe I can Fly!" the story you're weaving is fun, and clear-cut, I wish I could read a thousand entries, it feels like waiting for a new episode of a Tv show to come out. Abby is optimistic and sarcastic at the same time, or perhaps just sarcastically optimistic? The character are vivid enough for insta-love, which is rare for diary entry people. All in all, kudos.

Due at the End of Class on 4/22: Introduction diary entry Enjoy:) My name is Abby Swinton and my life is a mess. I mean, you have absolutely no idea. I recently became patient number 2348 at North Penn Institute for the Criminally Insane (formally North Penn High School…go figure.) Three floors are filled with people who committed crimes that they went on trial for and were deemed “mentally unstable”, things ranging from murder to disturbing the peace, and everything in between. Well, I’m here. I might as well just say this now because I know what you are thinking: what am I doing here? God, I asked myself that question so many times that it lost all its meaning. All I know is that I am here and until I have any memory of what in the hell happened to me, I’m staying here. It’s gonna be a long, bumpy ride.

Due at the End of Class on 4/23: first two diary entries It’s my first day. I can’t remember my trial at all, which was my only hope of knowing my crime. I swear to god I am not crazy, no seriously! I am not insane…I don’t even belong in jail! Oh Christ, I’m pretty sure that all the people here have claimed just that since they checked in as patients and judging by what I’ve seen so far, there is no way that is true. My first step after checking in was to meet my physiatrist, Dr. Phillip Jefferson. He told me to call him Dr. Phil…ugh, please. After some more bad puns and awkward silences, I got to see my cell, excuse me, room. There was a girl about my age sitting on the bed reading a strange pamphlet about hugs from what I could see (I didn’t want to seem like a totally creep and just stare for a prolonged period of time, sorry.) She had short brown hair and her side of the room was decked out in Harry Potter paraphernalia. I smiled and put my stuff down. She introduced herself as Becky. Well, she seems pretty normal so maybe I’m not the only one. I have to unpack so I’ll continue later.

Due at the End of Class on 4/24: next three entries Remember when I said that my roommate was semi-normal? That may have been a wee bit of a stretch. I mean, compared to some of the people I have seen, she is relatively mentally stable. But this afternoon in the recreation room made me totally freaked out. I walked in and a huge game of poker was in full swing. I’ve never been one for gambling, so I stayed silent and watched as the action unfolded (excuse the pun.) Becky was sitting with a huge pile of Hello Kitty stickers to signify her lead in the game. It stayed that way for a while; cards flying, stickers getting moved across the table to and fro. But suddenly, Becky was losing to another girl by about five stickers. This was when all hell broke loose. Becky got up and started screaming obscenities at the poor girl in the lead. This set off and uproar of screaming and yelling, hair-pulling and a flurry of cards. The nursing staff had to come in and sedate Becky and take her back to the room before she committed murder, but not before she screamed out that she would be back tomorrow for a rematch. Life is never boring here, now is it?

I talked to Becky once she woke up from her drug-induced stupor. Her parents forced her to this institution because of her compulsive gambling. I tried not to laugh because that is a legitimate mental disorder after all. I just thought it would be something, like, I don’t know, more serious? Oh well, at least she’s not having thoughts of killing me in me sleep or something. I also talked to the girl who Becky attacked today after she was practically dragged out of the room. She sat staring at me with huge eyes and this crazy Albert Einstein-esque hair, that is, where she actually had hair. Her scalp, I noticed, was decorated with patches of bald spots. She also had a fluffy white stuffed animal cat that purred when you moved it resting on her lap. As I thought of things to talk to her about, she would pet the cat slowly and just stare at me, smiling really big the whole time. She seems nice, and she also likes to sing. You can hear her quite clearly screaming out the melody to I Believe I Can Fly by R. Kelly every night around two in the morning. I guess I should stop writing, time for dinner.

You really meet the most interesting people in this joint, let me just tell you. At dinner, after picking up my food (or whatever you want to call it), I was at a loss for where to sit. I just looked around and examined each table, deciding which one I would be least likely to be assaulted at. I heard a shrill whistle and I turned around. Some girl was motioning for me to sit down next to her. I walked over, nervous but a little happy that someone actually invited me over to sit with her. Her name was Kathryn. I jokingly asked her who she killed to get in the North Penn Institution for the Criminally Insane. “My boyfriend”, she replied…completely serious. She then went on explaining that he was, and I quote, “an unappreciative bastard” who also enjoyed slapping her around to keep in control. She came home as he was out for his daily jog. She patiently awaited his arrival, and when she saw him coming near the house, that’s when she hopped in the car. As he was coming up the driveway, she backed the car out and hit him. In court, she could have claimed it was an accident (not that anybody would have believed her), but it got worse from there. She backed the car out four more times and THEN claimed it was an accident, successfully landing herself here as a patient with bipolar disorder.

Due at the End of Class on 4/27: two entries I had another appointment with Dr. Phillip Jefferson (there is no way in hell I'm calling him Dr. Phil). Every appointment we have together begins the exact same way with him asking me how I feel today. Just for something to talk about, I've always wanted to respond with "pretty homocidal, and you?" but I decided against it every time. I can tell he feels pretty proud of himself with each session I attend because he thinks he's making progress or something like that. Yeah, he has no idea what is going on in my head...no one does.

Due at the End of Class on 4/28: three entries

Due at the End of Class on 4/29: three entries

Due at the End of Class on 4/30: final two entries

Presentations/Celebration will occur on Friday, May 1.

Final Comments/Self-Evaluation: