thursday
The kid in front of me in creative writing looks like an angry Jim Halpert, and this is troubling. What would happen to make this quasi-Halpert constantly angry? An inflamed bowel? A worldwide shortage of mints? The difficulty in finding Alfred Dunner clothing? WHAT could it be?
Sometimes it puzzles me so much that I just stare at his Converse and try to figure it out while most of the class is learning to write poetry effectively. Actually, they probably are listening to the kid in class who has decided that he is an expert on poetry, and so makes frequent observations (which are, a lot of the time, rephrasing of what the previous person observed. Does this mean he was so focused on his idea that he didn't realize that someone else just said the same thing? Or does he think we won't realize its the same thing? Or does he think he's expanded on the idea, when, in reality, its purely retreading the same territory? See, whichever thing I pay attention to is rife with questions). To be fair, but not at all on topic, the "kid" with the observations is not at all a kid. I don't know how old he is, but he does remind me of a frog. Actually, a frog who thinks he might be a secret prince, but the real secret is how to get him to shut up. A closely guarded secret, at that.
I think it might be a poor choice to begin the day with as much iced coffee as I did, and then to follow up later wit a large can of sweet tea. The caffeine is clearly not helping my mental processes at all.
I did wake up this morning and decide emus are weirdly poetic, and this was before coffee. Oh, emus, with your large wings and...extensive....walking to places....how you guarantee that I will never be a good poet. But I will have plenty of very large eggs, so everyone else can suck it in that respect.
My dad made me a vegetarian s'more just a little while ago, and it was really good. I miss being able to eat s'mores. Giving up meat was easy, its the stuff you never think about beforehand that gets to you. I used to love sitting at the kitchen table before school picking all the cereal pieces out of my Lucky Charms, leaving only the marshmallows and then going through the jingle as many times as possible with the shapes I had.
It took me a really, really long time to eat a bowl of Lucky Charms.
In high school.
Sometimes it puzzles me so much that I just stare at his Converse and try to figure it out while most of the class is learning to write poetry effectively. Actually, they probably are listening to the kid in class who has decided that he is an expert on poetry, and so makes frequent observations (which are, a lot of the time, rephrasing of what the previous person observed. Does this mean he was so focused on his idea that he didn't realize that someone else just said the same thing? Or does he think we won't realize its the same thing? Or does he think he's expanded on the idea, when, in reality, its purely retreading the same territory? See, whichever thing I pay attention to is rife with questions). To be fair, but not at all on topic, the "kid" with the observations is not at all a kid. I don't know how old he is, but he does remind me of a frog. Actually, a frog who thinks he might be a secret prince, but the real secret is how to get him to shut up. A closely guarded secret, at that.
I think it might be a poor choice to begin the day with as much iced coffee as I did, and then to follow up later wit a large can of sweet tea. The caffeine is clearly not helping my mental processes at all.
I did wake up this morning and decide emus are weirdly poetic, and this was before coffee. Oh, emus, with your large wings and...extensive....walking to places....how you guarantee that I will never be a good poet. But I will have plenty of very large eggs, so everyone else can suck it in that respect.
My dad made me a vegetarian s'more just a little while ago, and it was really good. I miss being able to eat s'mores. Giving up meat was easy, its the stuff you never think about beforehand that gets to you. I used to love sitting at the kitchen table before school picking all the cereal pieces out of my Lucky Charms, leaving only the marshmallows and then going through the jingle as many times as possible with the shapes I had.
It took me a really, really long time to eat a bowl of Lucky Charms.
In high school.