January 19, 2005 :: 12:16 a.m.
pre-sleep school ramblings
Had class tonight. My art history teacher is officially the most boring, irritating man on the face of the earth. I have confirmation - everyone else hates him, too. It's nice to not be alone in my hate. Although I think perhaps mine is of a more fiery variety than most, because seriously, if I were rich and powerful and immune from such petty things as jail I would totally corner that bastard in an alley and kick the crap out of him. I think it would be therapeutic.
Of course, if I were rich and powerful I wouldn't be sitting in his class in the first place, so the whole thing is pretty moot.
Tomorrow (today, really) is my loooong day. I'm not looking forward to either class, unfortunately. 2D is just... not working for me right now. I'm having so much trouble with such a simple project. And Scullin is sort of a poohead and apparently never, ever lets you leave early, even though you don't need anywhere close to 6 hours to get the day's work done. But whatever. I'll take a book and my CD player and deal.
Creative Nonfiction is making me nervous. He asked us to write a really simple thing for this week; his exact words were "write like you're trying to get an A in a regular english class." What does that mean? Simple sentences? No flowery language or attention to detail? Proper grammar? I have no idea. I wrote my thing after class, and I'm pretty happy with it, but I don't know if it's what he wants. I pretty much have just the one writing "voice" or style that shows up in everything I write, and that's what he's getting. I wondered if maybe I should go back in and "dumb it down" a little bit, since I think he's going to ask us to revise it and make it more "writerly" for next week, but you know what? Screw that. I'm a good writer. I probably have the most actual creative writing experience of anyone in the class, save for the professor himself, and in the end that's the problem. He's starting from scratch, treating us like we've never written something that wasn't a 5-paragraph paper or an email littered with emoticons before. But I have, and I refuse to write crap just because he wants to start small. Everything is spelled right, the grammar is fine, and since I don't recall ever receiving anything less than an A in any english class EVER, well, he's going to have to deal with me just the way I am.
But it's still freaking me out a little bit, though. I'm such a closet overachiever. I try to hide it, but deep down (or maybe just below the surface) I always want to be the teacher's favorite. Gah. Why this sick need for academic approval? I'm smart. I know I'm smart. Just like I know I can write. And yet my heart drops into my stomach every time a test or a paper is handed in or handed back. I really wish I didn't need the affirmation so much. It's kind of embarrassing.
Anyway, I need to cut this short. I just felt compelled to hop on and update before bed. Wish me an insane, clock hands spinning like a windmill in a hurricane-type time warp tomorrow, okay? Thanks.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005