Clique?
Aaaaaagh Sunday. It's almost as bad as Monday, because it's when I rush to do all of the homework I didn't do Friday and Saturday. Plus, it's Superbowl Sunday, which probably means very little to people who don't live in the States. But it means EVERYTHING to pretty much every guy here at college. No one I know even likes the teams this year, but I know that everyone'll be at the Superbowl Party tonight. Honestly, I watch for the commercials, because I couldn't care less about football, but the commercials are funny as hell. So, I guess I'll be at that party, too. Oh, third floor lounge. Will you be able to hold all of us Hassinger kids? (Hassinger is the building I live in. We are Hassholes.)
Homework wise, I have Spanish stuff and things to read for Intro to Creative Nonfiction. I don't think we have any assigned reading except the two memoirs that we're workshopping tomorrow in class. For non-writing majors, workshopping is where you read and critique someone's paper/story/memoir/essay/etc. It's not criticizing, it's telling them how to make it better. It's completely nerve wracking when it's happening to you, but it makes you a better writer. Everything that's wrong with it that you can't see for yourself is pointed out to you, so you know how to make it better. It's like having 16 beta readers. We're supposed to be workshopping two memoirs tomorrow, but so far I only have one. They were supposed to be sent by 1:45, and it's now 1:55. I really don't like the girl who hasn't sent her's, so I hope she doesn't send it at all. Serves her right for being a bitch.
Damn. Just checked my email. She JUST sent it out. Oh, well. I hope it's horrible so that our critiques break her soul.
What? I'm not a mean person. I swear. Don't give me that look, flist.
Anyway, the title of this entry is "Clique" because I just heard a ridiculous conversation in the hallway. Our RA was accusing us (well, my floor in general, she didn't know I had my door open and could hear the conversation) of being anti-social and cliquey. Really, she just means specific people on the floor, because I have friends on every floor of this building. All three of them. (Whatever, it's a small building and I actually am a little anti-social. So sue me.) But they were all denying the fact that they were cliquey, and that's a load of bullshit. This floor is the cliqueiest (wtf is that word?!) place I've ever been, and I went to public school for grade school. Whatever. As much as I love my friends in this building, I'm glad I'll be living somewhere else next year so I don't have the hallway bullshit EVERYDAY OF MY LIFE. Seriously, the amount of drama that takes place right outside of my door is utterly ridiculous.
Wow. I apologize for this entry. Apparently I needed to rant or something. Uh....to make it worth it...here's Cory Montieth!
Homework wise, I have Spanish stuff and things to read for Intro to Creative Nonfiction. I don't think we have any assigned reading except the two memoirs that we're workshopping tomorrow in class. For non-writing majors, workshopping is where you read and critique someone's paper/story/memoir/essay/etc. It's not criticizing, it's telling them how to make it better. It's completely nerve wracking when it's happening to you, but it makes you a better writer. Everything that's wrong with it that you can't see for yourself is pointed out to you, so you know how to make it better. It's like having 16 beta readers. We're supposed to be workshopping two memoirs tomorrow, but so far I only have one. They were supposed to be sent by 1:45, and it's now 1:55. I really don't like the girl who hasn't sent her's, so I hope she doesn't send it at all. Serves her right for being a bitch.
Damn. Just checked my email. She JUST sent it out. Oh, well. I hope it's horrible so that our critiques break her soul.
What? I'm not a mean person. I swear. Don't give me that look, flist.
Anyway, the title of this entry is "Clique" because I just heard a ridiculous conversation in the hallway. Our RA was accusing us (well, my floor in general, she didn't know I had my door open and could hear the conversation) of being anti-social and cliquey. Really, she just means specific people on the floor, because I have friends on every floor of this building. All three of them. (Whatever, it's a small building and I actually am a little anti-social. So sue me.) But they were all denying the fact that they were cliquey, and that's a load of bullshit. This floor is the cliqueiest (wtf is that word?!) place I've ever been, and I went to public school for grade school. Whatever. As much as I love my friends in this building, I'm glad I'll be living somewhere else next year so I don't have the hallway bullshit EVERYDAY OF MY LIFE. Seriously, the amount of drama that takes place right outside of my door is utterly ridiculous.
Wow. I apologize for this entry. Apparently I needed to rant or something. Uh....to make it worth it...here's Cory Montieth!