(no subject)
School's almost out for the year. I can't really believe that I'm finally done with a whole year of college, but it's definitely a nice feeling. I'm the most glad though that I've finally found something that I find completely worthwhile, even though it may be one of the weirdest things to enjoy doing. I remember that even on the very last day of high school, people were talking about what they wanted to study in school and do with their lives, and I really had no idea. I picked Political Science because I like to know things about political philosophy, but now I've really found something that I love to do. Classics combines some political philosophy (what I think are the best parts of it) with history and learning languages. It's like learning stuff to know it, with no other purpose than to know things.
And Latin is so aweseome. I love all of the crazy names of phrases and sentence construction (e.g. passive pariphrastic, ablative of time within which). It has intense grammar rules and there is also a large portion of the language that has no rules and has to be memorized. Actually, that's probably why I like it. I like to know all 64 or however many forms just for one verb. I actually read the 501 Latin Verbs book because it's interesting. Figures that I would have to go to the most pretentious language in the history of humanity to finally find something that I love. Not quite sure where I was going with this other than to say I am cool and happy.
I'm thinking of learning how to play guitar. Mainly because then I will look way cool. Yeah, I'm only doing it for the looks. Guess I don't really need to learn to play then, just to hold it with attitude.
In a completely unrelated topic, I'm trying to pick my favorite author. I don't think I can. But right now a guy I'm really enjoying is Neal Stephenson. He's intelligent, witty, and writes with such totally bad ass (yeah, two words. That's how great it is) prose that I am totally digging right now. I guess it's better to just pick favorite books, and even then you have to do some sort of "top 10 but none of them is better than any other" type thing. On second thought, I'll just drop it. There are a lot of good books out there, and reading them makes me feel good inside.
Other than that, nothing really happens to me. Except for a feral cat having its kittens on my back porch that I don't even go out on because of the scary lady who lives next door to me and practically lives out back. Weird, I know. It's like all of my crazy anxiety-drive neuroses came together to form the Voltron of anxiety-driven neuroses to prevent me from being on my porch, which led this very scary, very feral cat to decide that it was a safe, human-free are to have its babies in. I'm surprised I don't have a nervous tic covering half my face.
This is going to be a good summer. It's the Summer of George, Jerry. THE SUMMER OF GEORGE!
And Latin is so aweseome. I love all of the crazy names of phrases and sentence construction (e.g. passive pariphrastic, ablative of time within which). It has intense grammar rules and there is also a large portion of the language that has no rules and has to be memorized. Actually, that's probably why I like it. I like to know all 64 or however many forms just for one verb. I actually read the 501 Latin Verbs book because it's interesting. Figures that I would have to go to the most pretentious language in the history of humanity to finally find something that I love. Not quite sure where I was going with this other than to say I am cool and happy.
I'm thinking of learning how to play guitar. Mainly because then I will look way cool. Yeah, I'm only doing it for the looks. Guess I don't really need to learn to play then, just to hold it with attitude.
In a completely unrelated topic, I'm trying to pick my favorite author. I don't think I can. But right now a guy I'm really enjoying is Neal Stephenson. He's intelligent, witty, and writes with such totally bad ass (yeah, two words. That's how great it is) prose that I am totally digging right now. I guess it's better to just pick favorite books, and even then you have to do some sort of "top 10 but none of them is better than any other" type thing. On second thought, I'll just drop it. There are a lot of good books out there, and reading them makes me feel good inside.
Other than that, nothing really happens to me. Except for a feral cat having its kittens on my back porch that I don't even go out on because of the scary lady who lives next door to me and practically lives out back. Weird, I know. It's like all of my crazy anxiety-drive neuroses came together to form the Voltron of anxiety-driven neuroses to prevent me from being on my porch, which led this very scary, very feral cat to decide that it was a safe, human-free are to have its babies in. I'm surprised I don't have a nervous tic covering half my face.
This is going to be a good summer. It's the Summer of George, Jerry. THE SUMMER OF GEORGE!