When I went to college, I couldn't pick a major. I had no idea what I wanted to do in life. I changed majors a thousand times. For a brief time, I even co-majored in History and Religious Studies! Back then, Louisiana had a special, recently rolled out program called TOPS. TOPS would pay for a full, four-year college tuition for any willing, in-state student with a good high school GPA and high ACT test score. The only catch was, you had to go to a Louisiana college, and you had to begin in the fall semester directly following high school graduation. I had wanted to take some time away from education, to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, but the lure of free college was too tempting not to bite. I gave in and took the free tuition to LSU.
Finally, in my third of nearly five years at LSU, I settled on an English major, with a core concentration in Creative Writing, with minors in Film Theory and History (added in my final semester, when I realized I only needed six hours to get it!). I don't know if I am supposed to capitalize those or not, but it sure makes them look more important! I picked Creative Writing because I knew I enjoyed it, and would enjoy taking the classes--I had been writing short stories since I was a wee lad, anyway. I thought that being a writer would be cool, but didn't really think about what my career would be, or how I would make money after college, or that I would be alive after college and have to support myself in order to continue being alive, or that I might even get married and have my very own family that I would have to support in order for them to continue to be alive, too.
I bounced around from whatever job would have me, to whatever slightly better job would have me, and now, thirteen years, a wife and a kid later, it looks like I finally have a pretty clear shot at success in life as a paper-pusher. Awesome! Just what I thought I would do in college!
I don't know if I will ever be paid to put to use what I learned in college about writing (Studying under a twice-nominated for a Pulitzer mad-genius. I was his prized pupil, and I feel like I am disappointing him every single day of my life!). In complete honesty, I must admit, I haven't written a work of short fiction in over five years. However, in that span, I have blogged quite a bit. My blog started as a way to bloviatingly barf out all my emotions...while meanwhile cultivating an image of myself that was probably not realistic. Then I gave that a rest, before finally bringing The Nicsperiment back to focus on a sort of life retrospective framed under the guise of reviewing every album in my bloviated music collection. Yeah, I know I just technically used "bloviated" in the incorrect context, but I DON'T CARE!!! HAHAHAHA! This is my space, and I can use it however I want!
That's what the blog has been. A personal space. And hidden deep within this blog are the most personal expressions of who I really am as a person. Those personal expressions are my Travelogues.
When I die, I think there is one artistic achievement I should be remembered by, the only thing I would be proud to show to Mr. Madden at heaven's gate, attached to the phrase: I did this! Well, actually, I wrote a handful of stories about a decade ago that I think he'd be really proud of, as well, but as far as honestly expressing myself artistically and who I am as a human being over the last thirteen years of my life, I don't think I've done it better in anything than the travelogues I post on The Nicsperiment. So if anyone is reading this in the future, and is curious about who the author of The Nicsperiment really was, type "travelogue" into the search bar.
That's it. That's me.