update.
So I get up every morning and work before class but I can't seem to focus on my paper right now. My entries have been kind of shitty lately. I apologize.
The semester has been hectic. This past Saturday I was doing homework until about ten pm. Not fun. The Albion Review is still fun, I really like just being around with those kids. I never wrote an entry about how we were all stuck in Kalamazoo together, but half of us left. It was me, Jill, Patrick, Bri and Bri's friend Ross. We just hung out together and it was hilarious. I genuinely enjoyed myself despite the random, not knowing anything about Kalamazoo, trip.
Grade-wise I know I won't be getting a four point this semester because of my fucking honors class. Every paper I get back is a 3.6, even though some are better than others. It makes no sense. In all my other classes I think I have a shot at a 4.0 but who knows.
I really wish patience was grown on some tree somewhere, and I could just take the leaves and make some patience tea.
I haven't written (poetically) in awhile and it's hurting me. Not like I'm depriving myself of genius like some people would be when they have writer's block *cough* but it's one of the few ways I can express myself that people approve of.
I've been trying to figure out how to talk around people lately. I know I'm rude but I never really got to figure out what "polite" was because my interactions with a lot of people were limited. It's hard for me because I know that politeness is a form of respect, but because I feel I really do respect people I don't feel that I'm disrespecting them unless I'm overtly hurting them. But I guess what bothers me more is that there are all these nuances I just don't get. And it kind of sucks when you're the most socially dense person in the room. I feel crude, and makeshift. Oh raggedy anne.
I mean in Ann Arbor I didn't really think many people cared about interrupting since they interrupted right back? Maybe I am misremembering. I misremember everything.
That's something else. I'm realizing how little I remember. I barely remember a lot of high school now. I don't know why but this troubles me. Maybe everyone is like this, but whenever people say "oh yes this happened," even cuing me with specific details that should trigger something, there is just a white nothing. Maybe I just want to know too much, and all that shit doesn't matter. It would be nice to know where I'm coming from though, to see where I'm going.
There's also this book I'm reading Song of Solomon. There is a character named Ruth in it. She's not really a good character, but I feel it hits too close to home. She is pathetic, but I don't feel it's her fault. Her husband doesn't lover her, beats her, and her children don't even like her. She is "a small woman," and helpless. I can't help but feel that if you just switched the roles of the father and the husband you'd have me. "What might she have been like had her husband (father?) loved her?" I hate that question.
The semester has been hectic. This past Saturday I was doing homework until about ten pm. Not fun. The Albion Review is still fun, I really like just being around with those kids. I never wrote an entry about how we were all stuck in Kalamazoo together, but half of us left. It was me, Jill, Patrick, Bri and Bri's friend Ross. We just hung out together and it was hilarious. I genuinely enjoyed myself despite the random, not knowing anything about Kalamazoo, trip.
Grade-wise I know I won't be getting a four point this semester because of my fucking honors class. Every paper I get back is a 3.6, even though some are better than others. It makes no sense. In all my other classes I think I have a shot at a 4.0 but who knows.
I really wish patience was grown on some tree somewhere, and I could just take the leaves and make some patience tea.
I haven't written (poetically) in awhile and it's hurting me. Not like I'm depriving myself of genius like some people would be when they have writer's block *cough* but it's one of the few ways I can express myself that people approve of.
I've been trying to figure out how to talk around people lately. I know I'm rude but I never really got to figure out what "polite" was because my interactions with a lot of people were limited. It's hard for me because I know that politeness is a form of respect, but because I feel I really do respect people I don't feel that I'm disrespecting them unless I'm overtly hurting them. But I guess what bothers me more is that there are all these nuances I just don't get. And it kind of sucks when you're the most socially dense person in the room. I feel crude, and makeshift. Oh raggedy anne.
I mean in Ann Arbor I didn't really think many people cared about interrupting since they interrupted right back? Maybe I am misremembering. I misremember everything.
That's something else. I'm realizing how little I remember. I barely remember a lot of high school now. I don't know why but this troubles me. Maybe everyone is like this, but whenever people say "oh yes this happened," even cuing me with specific details that should trigger something, there is just a white nothing. Maybe I just want to know too much, and all that shit doesn't matter. It would be nice to know where I'm coming from though, to see where I'm going.
There's also this book I'm reading Song of Solomon. There is a character named Ruth in it. She's not really a good character, but I feel it hits too close to home. She is pathetic, but I don't feel it's her fault. Her husband doesn't lover her, beats her, and her children don't even like her. She is "a small woman," and helpless. I can't help but feel that if you just switched the roles of the father and the husband you'd have me. "What might she have been like had her husband (father?) loved her?" I hate that question.