Yesterday’s snow amazed me. It was only a tiny flurry, but the snow still consumed my attention. I haven’t played in the snow since I was three. was just tiny bits of white nothing, floating on the breeze. It’s probably such a mundane event to people who live up north, but I witnessed something that brought back wonder and amazement and total engrossment in a natural event. You know, it’s just one of those things that makes you think about how perfect the world should have been.
I’m not going to write it. I’m going to talk about nothing in particular. I always feel slightly ridiculous when writing a Livejournal entry. No one reads it, but I still worry about how I sound. Personally, I feel that my off-the-cuff writing sounds far too choppy. Take, for instance, this description of myself that I posted on a social site:
I'm an old-fashioned kind of girl who hopes that chivalry isn't really dead. My dad flew Blackhawks in the USAF, so I moved around a bit during childhood. I was born in Okinawa, Japan, but I moved to Oklahoma when I was three. A few homes later, I live in Georgia and attend UGA in Athens. I love chemistry and literature, and I'm hoping to find a career that encompasses both. I mesh well with vaguely intellectual people who enjoy a few moments of silence just as much as they like spirited conversation. I'm comfortable letting someone else call most of the shots, but I would also like to be consulted for my opinion once in a while. I'm instant friends with someone who can make me laugh--with them or at them. (I'll laugh when you trip, but in the same breath I'll ask if you're alright.) I'm a a bit of a laugh myself, but I'm more of a find-the-humor-in-life person than a stand up comedian. My taste leans toward the prepster: khakis, well-groomed, nice hair, Sperrys, and button-down shirts. A t-shirt and jeans are just fine, though. Word to the wise: I'm a sucker for a pair of glasses...
That sounds like I just cobbled together a few sentences out of whatever came into my mind in the few moments I typed this. Really, I spent about thirty minutes thinking about it, and then twenty writing and editing it. Brevity works in the right circumstances, but this isn’t just brevity. It’s a choppy, disorganized mess. Why do I lack flow?! Hey, maybe that’s why I’m such a funny person—brevity is the soul of wit.
Today I missed chemistry for the second time this week, which makes an entire missed week of chemistry. I’m not behind, though, for the professor made us buy a bound copy of his lectures that eliminates the need for notetaking. Also, specific heat and unit-factoring is for babies. Like, first month of high school chemistry babies. Otherwise, I’ve been doing okay about getting to classes and such.
English is a special experience, let me tell you. First, I signed up for it with absolutely no knowledge that it is based entirely on the works of J.R.R. Tolkien—more specifically, on the Silmarillion and the Lord of the Rings series. I kid you not. There are some interesting people in there, people who make esoteric jokess that get a “did you seriously just try that?” look from our TA. He has a very pleasant voice (a medium tenor, quiet but not indiscernible , with just enough expressionless detachment for perfect deadpan humor) and an interesting approach to professional dress. The first day, I wondered who the disheveled, unshaven (for months, it looked like) kid sitting in the chair up front was. I very much prefer him to my last English TA. I already hate her for reasons I won’t go into, but even if that hadn’t happened I still would have felt like I wasted my time in her classroom. She rarely discussed hard and fast literary elements, instead favoring such deep and probing topics as how hard the story was to read. We were all perfectly literate, mind you, so it shouldn’t have been any problem at all to read the story. She once roundaboutly accused me of plagiarism, just because I turned out a better paper than she expected from me. I swear to God. Now one of my friends is in her English class—I told him to get out fast, but he dismissed me by saying she’s easy enough and he’s not looking for instruction; just a good grade is what he wants. My last complaint about her stems, again, from in ineffectual teaching. I feel as if I did not improve my writing skills one bit, and that was one of the main goals of the class, as defined by the English Department. To improve your skill as a writer.
I am finished. Perhaps tomorrow I will write about other classes.
I leave you with my inspiration--what I always go over before I undertake any essay.
http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/image/essay/1
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
pleased
cold
angry