Second post of the day...back in black
Suddenly life does not have the whipped cream induced fluffiness it had before. Just got first major paper back in Southern Writers. B+. What the fuck? And it gets worse. She writes this whole diatribe about it on how it is "witty" and such, but is full of gross generalities and empty phrases. Ho hum. And I thought it was a rockin' effort. Oh well. She says I can correct it to get my A, but who has the energy? Oh, who am I kidding? You know I'll do it.
Which brings me to my point. Why do I care? What is there in me that makes me care about these arbitrary markers of intelligence, these seemingly random notes of the worth of ones thoughts on a particular narrow subject? I don't know. It's weird. It's like that my striving for these grades, for whatever, is my own bit of holding on to something in this (here it comes) chaotic world. So I wonder what I'll do next year when there's nothing to grade, when there's no one to impress, when there are no deadlines to fulfill. Maybe this is why people go to grad school. So they'll have someone who can see how smart (or dumb or crazy) they are. God, I'm going to miss this. Just that moment of when the professor has the papers ready to hand out and you're sitting there wondering what you got...It's cool. And I'm going to miss it. A lot. Oh well.
In other frustrating news, the rental office at my apartment complex forgot to count that I paid my rent (on time, mind you), so they sent me this nasty note about paying it. So I had to call and clear that up, all the time knowing that they think I am a few french fries short of a Happy Meal. Is there an unwritten law that says that if you are in college you are automatically deemed stupid by the general public? If there is, can we appeal it?
Matt is taking me out to dinner since I "had a bad day." Yea.
Which reminds me: I am looking for information about the Communist Party in the South during the late 70's-early 80's. I am writing a story about this subject, as I know of at least two instancs/uprisings and I find it uber interesting. Plus, it fits really well in my vignette collection. If anyone who is reading this knows anything about it, personal experience or not, please post a comment to me. There was actually a small commune that my parents visited a couple of times in rolicking old Southwest VA, but that's another story for another time.
Have a good un. I will be trying to rewrite that paper and reading Tolstoy if you need me. And I remain evilly yours.
Which brings me to my point. Why do I care? What is there in me that makes me care about these arbitrary markers of intelligence, these seemingly random notes of the worth of ones thoughts on a particular narrow subject? I don't know. It's weird. It's like that my striving for these grades, for whatever, is my own bit of holding on to something in this (here it comes) chaotic world. So I wonder what I'll do next year when there's nothing to grade, when there's no one to impress, when there are no deadlines to fulfill. Maybe this is why people go to grad school. So they'll have someone who can see how smart (or dumb or crazy) they are. God, I'm going to miss this. Just that moment of when the professor has the papers ready to hand out and you're sitting there wondering what you got...It's cool. And I'm going to miss it. A lot. Oh well.
In other frustrating news, the rental office at my apartment complex forgot to count that I paid my rent (on time, mind you), so they sent me this nasty note about paying it. So I had to call and clear that up, all the time knowing that they think I am a few french fries short of a Happy Meal. Is there an unwritten law that says that if you are in college you are automatically deemed stupid by the general public? If there is, can we appeal it?
Matt is taking me out to dinner since I "had a bad day." Yea.
Which reminds me: I am looking for information about the Communist Party in the South during the late 70's-early 80's. I am writing a story about this subject, as I know of at least two instancs/uprisings and I find it uber interesting. Plus, it fits really well in my vignette collection. If anyone who is reading this knows anything about it, personal experience or not, please post a comment to me. There was actually a small commune that my parents visited a couple of times in rolicking old Southwest VA, but that's another story for another time.
Have a good un. I will be trying to rewrite that paper and reading Tolstoy if you need me. And I remain evilly yours.
posted by Southern Belle at 5:01 PM
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