Wow, I'm writing something. This feels downright foreign to me to be writing in my SG journal again after so long, but alas, though I am not always visible, I am always here. School is just somewhat insane.Actually, it's school that has me wanting to write now, so check out that irony.
As most of you know, I'm back in college at 26 as a Freshman, which means I get to take fun courses like MATH 002(because after 7 years out of math, it's good to start as low as possible) and ENGL 101, which I didn't take my first time in college because I had a good AP test score that rendered it useless, but once again, the 7 years out rule applies here.
I have a paper due in ENGL 101 tomorrow that I finished over the weekend and is ready to be turned in bright and early. The only problem is that I'm not at all happy with it. The assignment was to write an analytical paper about the "poem" assigned by our teacher. The "poem" she assigned was "Immortality" by Pearl Jam, written by Eddie Vedder. Now, don't get me wrong, I love this song. It's lyrics create a great visual and it's chockful of metaphor. And I wrote a paper that, in most cases, I'd be perfectly happy to turn in. The problem is that this isn't most cases. Let me explain.
My teacher's name is Beth. She's turned the class into a pop culture 101 course because of her love of the contemporary pop culture(which I share with her). She's Cuban, funny, loves The Smiths and The Ramones, and is 26 years old. She is, in pretty much every sense, my dream woman. So, I want to impress her with my amazing writing ability. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not delusional. I know that I have no chance in hell with my teacher. I know that she could care less if my paper is amazing or just passable. But, while not delusional, nobody ever accused me of being rational either.
So, there is my conundrum. I have a paper that I think will get me an A, but it won't get me the WOW that I'm looking for, so I'm dissapointed. Then I realize why I'm dissapointed and I'm even more dissapointed with myself for acting like a lovestruck teenager. Why must I always be so fucked up?
Oh, but don't think this is a sign of some general malaise. I am, minus feeling bad for humanity in a large sense with the shit going down in the South and the Middle East, happier than I've been in a very very long time. I'm just at my natural confused state when it comes to women.
As most of you know, I'm back in college at 26 as a Freshman, which means I get to take fun courses like MATH 002(because after 7 years out of math, it's good to start as low as possible) and ENGL 101, which I didn't take my first time in college because I had a good AP test score that rendered it useless, but once again, the 7 years out rule applies here.
I have a paper due in ENGL 101 tomorrow that I finished over the weekend and is ready to be turned in bright and early. The only problem is that I'm not at all happy with it. The assignment was to write an analytical paper about the "poem" assigned by our teacher. The "poem" she assigned was "Immortality" by Pearl Jam, written by Eddie Vedder. Now, don't get me wrong, I love this song. It's lyrics create a great visual and it's chockful of metaphor. And I wrote a paper that, in most cases, I'd be perfectly happy to turn in. The problem is that this isn't most cases. Let me explain.
My teacher's name is Beth. She's turned the class into a pop culture 101 course because of her love of the contemporary pop culture(which I share with her). She's Cuban, funny, loves The Smiths and The Ramones, and is 26 years old. She is, in pretty much every sense, my dream woman. So, I want to impress her with my amazing writing ability. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not delusional. I know that I have no chance in hell with my teacher. I know that she could care less if my paper is amazing or just passable. But, while not delusional, nobody ever accused me of being rational either.
So, there is my conundrum. I have a paper that I think will get me an A, but it won't get me the WOW that I'm looking for, so I'm dissapointed. Then I realize why I'm dissapointed and I'm even more dissapointed with myself for acting like a lovestruck teenager. Why must I always be so fucked up?
Oh, but don't think this is a sign of some general malaise. I am, minus feeling bad for humanity in a large sense with the shit going down in the South and the Middle East, happier than I've been in a very very long time. I'm just at my natural confused state when it comes to women.