Autobiographies

Redefining autobiography by avoiding length and actual autobiography conventions.

To view the final version, click here.

To Amuse

I will attempt not to bore you with this story. See, I was raised on an island. That might sound cool, but I'm an only child. Swimming and adventuring through the woods aren't too much fun alone. Actually, I generally hate swimming anyway because I was pushed in a pool when I was six and sank. So yeah, I was left on this island alone for three summers in a row between the ages of like 12 and 15. During the school years we went to town and came home. One trip. Never went to friends' houses, never had them over.
I played video games. A lot.
I still do that.

To Teach

My name is Eric Christenson. I was born in International Falls, MN and lived on an island on Rainy Lake for the first fifteen years of my life. People always find this extremely interesting, so I will go into the experience in detail. We lived a mile across water from the mainland, so the boat ride (open bow, 16 ft with 50 horse outboard motor) took about five minutes. Then it was a twenty minute drive to school/work. In the winter, the lake would eventually freeze over completely. While we could still break it, we would continue taking the boats. When it got just thick enough to withstand that, we would take a canoe and scoot it across with one foot in the canoe and one out. This probably took twenty minutes but it felt like forever. When the ice thickened more, we rode snowmobiles. At about two to three feet of ice, my father would plow a road and we would simply drive across. Eventually, we were able to eschew the canoe-scooting process for airboats: large, flat-bottomed boats with giant fans on the back that could slide over the ice as well as float if the ice broke.

At 15, we moved to town, but kept the house at the lake. I attended Rainy River Community College for my last two years and earned an Associate of Arts and diploma simultaneously. Actually, I got the AA first, which felt pretty cool. I currently attend Bemidji State University for Creative and Professional Writing, emphasis on "Creative." In addition to writing, I enjoy reading, listening to music, practicing ninjutsu, and playing video games (you can add me: foxy_k on Steam, Phoxie_Kay on PSN, and Foxeh K on XBox Live.)

To Be Helpful

To be helpful with an autobiography, perhaps others can learn from my mistakes. I'm in college. College is full of unexpected twists, annoying procedures, and events that make you say "Shit, I didn't know that would happen." For example, say you lived in the dorms assuming that, due to it being the standard setup, your financial aid would cover it. If, say, your financial aid falls short by twenty six hundred dollars and you decide to move out to an apartment you can afford, know exactly when you need to inform Res Life that you're moving out. If you think of it at a reasonable time, we'll say two weeks before finals start, you may still be a day or two too late and get fined a hundred and fifty bucks.

If you went to a community college before a university, assuming to you only did the bear minimum at community college, don't expect that shit to fly at "real" college. It's possible your "instructors" at community college were impressed with your ability to write coherent things and maybe even your cajones to include a joke or two in an otherwise serious paper. "Professors" at "real" college are quite the opposite of impressed by this, and you can expect them to ground your shit faster than a Ken combo.

For you writing majors out there who don't already know these things, despite the major being called "Creative Writing," you still have to write research papers. Probably several. No one told me that.
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