(no subject)
Not enough people smoke at U of T, but I'm dealing. Classes seem easy, although I've been put off of psychology a little bit by reading what other students have said. I kicked around campus without really committing to anything, buying books and having transcripts printed, pretending that I knew people and walking with my head high, putting my hand up in class and yelling out the answer with a passionate fury to keep anyone else from trying to steal my spot as the sketchy looking keener. I don't think anyone was trying too.
I imagined today that I would write a book about university one day, call it Six Degrees of Separation and make it about a bunch (by a bunch I mean 6) who go to university and have to deal with their changing lives, and ethics, and friendships, etc. It seems like a lofty goal for my very first day of university - especially considering I live at home, and didn't even attend frosh. The whole above is totally 100% copy write Erica Predko, BY THE WAY. So you trolling bitches who sift through English-focused first years looking for good novel material - I can't help you.
We've been making our judgments already - I clung to a girl from Vic College in my seminar, categorizing people as they opened their mouths to speak. So much of it is what I was trying to, nay, did escape, and I feel some sort of petty victory in that. The girls with their perfect hair who claim to have stumbled from res to class in ten minutes, the sorority pledges, the stupid college pride that makes everyone a douche who clings desperately to their youth - U of T is in no way entwined with how I define myself, again a small victory that I keep close and guard violently. Perhaps one day I will wave a flag of surrender and list of my degree(s?) and remember fondly my old college days, but for now I am working on being Erica first, and a student second. I have been a student for far too long, Gretchen told me today "You are a natural academic, and you are good at what you do. You'll be fine" and rather than the comfort I'm sure she sought to give, I was struck with fear. Academia, while a talent in itself and rater marketable, is not as concrete a talent as, say, art. You draw a beautiful picture and your friends will all gasp in awe, you can bask in the beauty of it and stay modestly proud. When you write a good paper, nobody wants to read it, and chances are if they do they didn't understand it or just slogged through for your benefit. Well I'm sure that's not entirely true, I do like reading other people's papers.
Anyways, the point is I don't see how you market being an academic. Perhaps I'll shuffle from research assistant position to research assistant position, until some poor prof finally takes pity on me and gives me a position as a TA.
God, my writing has changed since school started. I've only had three hours of it and already proper punctuation and capitalization is making it's way back into my writing. I thought last year had irreparably fried my brain - let's hope this semester proves otherwise.
(When I look back on this entry three months later, I know I'll laugh at my own nativity)
I imagined today that I would write a book about university one day, call it Six Degrees of Separation and make it about a bunch (by a bunch I mean 6) who go to university and have to deal with their changing lives, and ethics, and friendships, etc. It seems like a lofty goal for my very first day of university - especially considering I live at home, and didn't even attend frosh. The whole above is totally 100% copy write Erica Predko, BY THE WAY. So you trolling bitches who sift through English-focused first years looking for good novel material - I can't help you.
We've been making our judgments already - I clung to a girl from Vic College in my seminar, categorizing people as they opened their mouths to speak. So much of it is what I was trying to, nay, did escape, and I feel some sort of petty victory in that. The girls with their perfect hair who claim to have stumbled from res to class in ten minutes, the sorority pledges, the stupid college pride that makes everyone a douche who clings desperately to their youth - U of T is in no way entwined with how I define myself, again a small victory that I keep close and guard violently. Perhaps one day I will wave a flag of surrender and list of my degree(s?) and remember fondly my old college days, but for now I am working on being Erica first, and a student second. I have been a student for far too long, Gretchen told me today "You are a natural academic, and you are good at what you do. You'll be fine" and rather than the comfort I'm sure she sought to give, I was struck with fear. Academia, while a talent in itself and rater marketable, is not as concrete a talent as, say, art. You draw a beautiful picture and your friends will all gasp in awe, you can bask in the beauty of it and stay modestly proud. When you write a good paper, nobody wants to read it, and chances are if they do they didn't understand it or just slogged through for your benefit. Well I'm sure that's not entirely true, I do like reading other people's papers.
Anyways, the point is I don't see how you market being an academic. Perhaps I'll shuffle from research assistant position to research assistant position, until some poor prof finally takes pity on me and gives me a position as a TA.
God, my writing has changed since school started. I've only had three hours of it and already proper punctuation and capitalization is making it's way back into my writing. I thought last year had irreparably fried my brain - let's hope this semester proves otherwise.
(When I look back on this entry three months later, I know I'll laugh at my own nativity)