So I'm posting it here. It's something I wrote for my creative writing course.
How in the hell did I get here?! My hands at ten and two, my knuckles white, my arms locked…I’m the epitome of the safe, confident driver. My sister sits in the gray fabric seat beside me, black safety belt firmly in place, her short brown hair, slightly lighter than mine, swaying back and forth as she tries not to watch me too closely. I hear rather than see her right foot thump on the floorboards, subtly prompting me to brake. I tap the brake pedal lightly, applying a gradual increase of pressure, and the tiny white car responds instantly, slowing to a semi-smooth stop before a glowing red glare. I relax my hands momentarily, flexing the stiff joints and restoring a modicum of circulation before the red glare is replaced by bright green and my hands tense once more. I shift my foot to the gas pedal, pressing it down a little too quickly judging by the convulsive gesture my sister makes as she’s pushed back into her chair by the force of my acceleration, and her jaw opens and then closes decisively as she decides not to tell me for the third time tonight that I need to accelerate gradually. I pull forward onto the pale, cracked cement, and enter a brace of traffic. My pulse quickens, my arms tense until my muscles threaten to cramp, and I nervously repeat a soothing mantra in my mind: right mirror, one blue car; left mirror, big Mac truck; rearview mirror, a whole lotta lights. Soon my mantra becomes verbal, a continuous ribbon of meaningless mutterings, cuss words, and made-up expletives:
“Hey buddy, I’m going the speed limit; I ain’t gonna speed for you, so get off my ass and go around me…yes, exactly like that. Oh, Lordie…Mac truck pulling up beside me. I can do this, I’m fine, he’s in his own lane, I’m in mine, there’s plenty of room…oh, crap-o-roodles, I don’t like this. Oh, no, I really don’t like this…oh-kay, he’s gone; anyone else want to pass me? Well come on over buddy…nice signal ya cheeky bastard. Yes, that’s right, I’m the slow driver, y’all come on ahead and pass me by…and once again, I’m all by myself. But that’s ok. Look in the rear view mirror, some lights way far back. Look in the right side mirror, nothing. To the left, nothing. That’s good. Look forward, cars speeding ahead of me. Check the circular thing that tells me my speed…oh, I might need to speed up a little…”
My sister says nothing; she’s heard this before. I should mention that this is my younger sister sitting beside me, taking an hour out of her day to be my “licensed-accompanying-driver.” She’s eighteen. I’m twenty-one. She’s had her license for over a year; I’ve had a learner’s permit for five. How did I let this happen? How did I end up a twenty-one-year-old college-senior who doesn’t have a driver’s license? Why am I terrified of driving?
Maybe it’s that nightmare I used to have, the one where I was riding in an enormous, hollow van with windows all around, huge screens showing me blurred-green forests, letting me know exactly how fast the van was going. Ronald McDonald was there, but he wasn’t driving. No one was driving. I was in a big, empty van, speeding out of control, and no one was driving. And my mother wondered why I wouldn’t stay in a car by myself if the engine was running and no one was behind the wheel. I remember those frosty, crunchy mornings before preschool, when my mother would start the engine in our old maroon car to get the heat going, melting the pretty ice mosaic on the windshield. She’d get me situated in the passenger seat, my seat belt strapped on tightly, and then she’d remember something she left in the house and tell me to stay put while she ran back inside to get it. Nope. I didn’t think so.
Flash forward to my senior year of high school, my first year with my learner’s permit, the day before I started a four-year driving hiatus. I was driving my Dad’s colossal, ’92 Ford Econoline van through the busy streets of Havelock when…
“Uh, Dad? Ummm….Dad? It’s…uh…it’s not responding. I’m hitting the gas and…um…nothing’s happening. Um….Dad? What do I do?” My voice rose in pitch as my nervousness exponentially increased, like it’s doing now. But I can make it; today’s trip will be over soon. I’m fine. Kinda. Ok, I’m in the parking lot, I’ve pulled into a parking space, and turned off the engine. Why can’t I take the key out? What’s wrong? What didn’t I do? Oh, I’ve gotta put it in park. I knew that.
26 February 2008
I thought this was sort of funny...
24 February 2008
Do you see it too?
So, tonight's the Oscars. I've been doing my homework in front of the TV, trying to get the work done and still keep an eye out for Johnny Depp. I saw him! Anyway, I've just finished my homework, I've ordered a pizza (a while ago...I've already eaten), and now I just went downstairs and bought some cough syrup because I cannot seem to stop coughing! I've tried, but it's like Dad and Darren and sneezing...once they get going, there is no stopping them! But anyway, now that I've got the taste of Tussin DM cough formula in my mouth (I think they called it cherry, but I'm unconvinced), let me get down to what I was going to post about in the first place...
Do you see what I see?
FYI: The man who fell to Earth is the weirdest movie I have ever seen...
Eastern Promises
If you've ever been interested in the Russian Mafia, this movie is for you. This clip is one of the best, and worst, fight scenes I have ever witnessed. Check it out yourself. Don't watch it if any of the following are true:
1. You don't like blood
2. You don't like knives
3. You don't like seeing completely (yes, completely) naked men
4. You don't like seeing knives get placed into eyes
5. You're at work and you're not alone and your speakers are turned up
6. There is a child (or children) present who can both hear and watch the clip
If none of the above are true, or you feel you can handle it, then please, watch on.
23 February 2008
Bonsoir
So, as most of you have guessed (because I've told you, or you've been listening to me), I'm sick. I started coughing on Tuesday and I haven't stopped. I finally broke down last night and bought some cold and flu medicine to help me out. I took two pills and then went to bed around eleven. I woke up today around eleven thirty, refreshed, and more awake than I have been all week. I've coughed less today than I have all week, and my mental focus is really there today, so I think I'm getting over this bug. Hopefully! Thanks for all the positive energy!
I've finally been inspired to try Vitaminwater, and I have to say it's pretty good. I've had the dragonflower one so far - for Vitamin C, and it was really good. You should try one; they're a little pricy, but they're tasty, and they're good for you.
I tell you what, though, if I were sick like this all the time, I'd lose a ton of weight. I haven't eaten two full meals this entire week. Nothing tastes right, and I've just felt so nauseated, so ...no eating.
Let's see...what else have I done this week? I got an A on my French exam, I published two new chapters of my story, had my 100th review, and then some more, got supervised tutoring by my tutor mentor who said I was doing excellently, and just now, I've finished a biotechnology take home exam. In a bit, I'm going to go watch Eastern Promises (look it up in http://imdb.com). It looks interesting.
22 February 2008
My sentiments exactly
Cough, cough, ick.
I hate being sick.
--A girl in my creative writing course
Your cough sounds better this morning.
Well it should - I've been practicing all night!
--My human anatomy professor
My body has decided it only needs one lung, so it's trying to get rid of the other one.
--Me, now, sick of being sick!
20 February 2008
Sad News...
I have grave news to report today, so you'd best prepare yourself. I'm not sure if I can bring myself to write it, but I'll try. Here goes: Yesterday...Sean Bean...got married. I know, it's shocking and sad. But, I hope he's happy with his new wife. At least she'll do until he and I meet. Then we'll see.
Story Stats...My 100th Review!!
Chapters: 18, Words: 59,020, Reviews: 101, Hits:6752
Here are some reviews I particularly loved (of course, they're all very flattering....)
"Terrific chapter, you really are terrific at setting scenes and moods."
"Wonderful chapter. You are one heck of a writer I tell you. Please update as soon as you can. I just love how you write Jareth..."
"*sigh*
So beautiful and romantic, like I love.
You explain romantic very well and I hope it will have more romance on the next chapters.
I say it again beautiful chapter."
"I've finally read the whole thing as it is now...
UPDATE IT! PLEASE! PUH-LEASE!
Did I just say "please"? *shock horror*
Well done! I'm quite impressed! I sort of wish that your story was the real one *sigh*"
"For the love of god, you have to update really really soon. I just love this story and the dream Jareth had. Please update soon...Great chapter..."
19 February 2008
Robin Hood: Men in Tights
Robin Hood Men in Tights is one of the greatest movies ever made, closely followed by Dracula: Dead, and Loving It, also by Mel Brooks. The humor is classic!
Robin: Blinkin, listen to me. They've taken the castle!
Blinkin: I thought it felt a bit drafty. Cor, this never would have happened if your father was alive.
Robin: He's dead?
Blinkin: Yes.
Robin: And my mother?
Blinkin: She died of pneumonia while... oh, you were away...
Robin: My brothers?
Blinkin: There were all killed by the plague.
Robin: My dog, Pongo?
Blinkin: Run over by a carriage.
Robin: My goldfish, Goldie?!
Blinkin: Eaten by the cat.
Robin: [on the verge of tears] My cat?
Blinkin: Choked on the goldfish.
[Pause]
Blinkin: Oh, it's good to be home, ain't it, Master Robin?!
It takes the genius of Mel Brooks to direct something like that!
And I must say Will Scarlet was lookin' fine! Or maybe it was just his hair. I confess, hair matters to me; a lot. I love long hair on a guy - not too long, but I like it longish, and wavy. Becca says I'm going to marry a bald man, she can just picture it. I said that would be fine - I'd just make him wear a wig. Then she said - oh, what, a different wig every day? I said - hmmm--now there's an idea!
16 February 2008
14 February 2008
IT'S SNOWING!
Guess what! It's snowing! Yay! I get to see snow for the second time this year. Maybe it will accumulate, and we'll have a very frosty Valentine's Day, who knows? But I hope not...I have an exam tomorrow that I just finished (for now) studying for and I just walked back from the library now, after midnight, hence my knowing it was snowing. I'm waiting to thaw before I take a shower, and then back to studying. I'm not too worried about anatomy - the stuff's not easy, and it's a lot and I don't know how much detail to go into (so I chose to study at a moderate level, but not too deep), but I'm not shooting for an A+, so I should be able to pull off a decent grade. Anyway, time to go.
A doctor fell into a well
And broke his collar bone.
A doctor should tend the sick,
And leave the well alone.
Oh, and...
12 February 2008
It's quite late in the day, or quite early, depending on your perspective, and I'm still awake. I just finished a paper for my French class, where I detailed my first day of classes at the university. To get myself in the mood, I listened to Patrick Bruel (there are a ton of his music videos on YouTube). He's a famous French singer, and I love his voice (and he's not half bad to look at, either). Anyway, I said that I was incredibly nervous on my first day of class, that I was afraid of many things, among them being alone, being too stupid for a university, and being late for my first class. As I was walking to class, a man in a yellow hat stopped me and said he had lost his monkey, George, so I offered to help him. I found George at the dining hall, stealing bananas. The dining hall staff made me pay for the bananas, but I didn't have any money, so I had to wash dishes. I then took George to find his owner, but I was stopped by a lost little girl named Madeleine. I said I'd help her find her friends, so I began to look for her friends and George's owner. Then a man in a cape, wearing a musketeer's hat and carrying a sword asked me for directions to the library. His words were a ballad, his every sentence rhymed. When he left, I thought two things: how big his nose was, and how much panache he had. I found Madeleine's friends at the department of foreign languages, and they said the man in the yellow hat was over in the zoology building. I had five minutes left until my first class, so I ran to the zoology department, dropped George off, ran back to the foreign languages department and arrived with barely two seconds left until my first class, Spanish 201. I was so relieved and so exhausted that I was no longer afraid of anything.
Now that that's done, I have anatomy to study for. I really must stop procrastinating. It does terrible things to my schedule. I don't have any free time this week because I must study what I haven't studied since the start of the semester five or six weeks ago. And yet, ironically, I still have time to blog...
My feet hurt. My toes keep sending me throbs of pain each time I move, warning me to never, ever think of forcing them into my new shoes again. But what they don't realize is that I had a speed networking event to attend tonight, and I had to wear business casual clothes, including nice shoes. And I'll have to repeat the painful process next week at a job fair. Oh, the pain! All I can say right now is that I despise high heels.
OK, time to study...
09 February 2008
The Other Boleyn Girl
I just finished the book by Philippa Gregory, and I have to say it was pretty good. It kept me entertained, mostly. It deals with Anne Boleyn's lesser known sister, Mary Boleyn, and it tells the story of Anne Boleyn's rise to power through Mary's eyes: how Anne rose to claim the throne of Queen of England, and then how she quickly tumbled from power. It was told well, but one thing I absolutely hated about the book was the way the author would interject sayings like 'Anne would be willing to place her head on the chopping block for this' or Anne's curse on Jane Seymour, that 'she should die in child-bed.' I mean, come on, how tacky can you get?? Anne gets her head chopped off, as anyone who knows a thing or two about Henry VIII of England will tell you, and Jane Seymour died of complications of childbirth, possibly septicemia, after marrying Henry VIII. It just seemed like too much of a cheeky move on the author's part, and I didn't like it.
I've seen the trailer for The Other Boleyn Girl, starring Natalie Portman, Scarlet Johanssen, and Eric Bana. I'm not impressed. I hope it's just the trailer, but the film looks like a gross exaggeration of the book, like the film was only inspired by the book's synopsis, but never read any further than that. I hope I'm wrong. I respect Natalie Portman as an actress, and I don't want to see her lose any of her esteem in my eyes.
And now I sit, and wait. I woke up around 3pm, and despite the late hour, it was only because of a painfully full bladder. I could have slept longer, but I decided against it. Becca, however, is still asleep as I type, oddly enough. Oh, well. Right now, I can work on studying or my lab report, or my self-reflection, or my critiques, or my french paper. Or I can work on my next chapter...
Oh, Goody!! Patriot Games is coming on! If you'll just excuse me...
Celegrate good times, come on!
So, it's 3:18 in the morning, or, il est trois heures dix-huit du matin, ou son las tres y diez y ocho de la madrugada. And I am still awake. My eyes are so tired they feel inflamed and tender, but do I care? No. I published another chapter of my story tonight. I. Feel. Great. Here's what one reader had to say about my latest chapter:
"That was just so sweet. I was delighted. I loved how scared and worried
Jareth got, and then how they were both yelling at each other. Sometimes I
think love is best expressed with yelling. (Good yelling, worried yelling, not
mean yelling. Completely different.)
And Hoggle's love life is so adorable. Him wanting Sarah to meet Clara was
like introducing the girlfriend to the sister. Plus, the insight into Sarah's
own predicament was nicely worked.
You didn't tell us what the sketches were of, so I'm really curious now. And
what with Sarah about to go against Jareth's wishes...this spells uh-oh-ness."
It's so wonderful to have a someone read your story and see exactly what you wanted them to see! I'm having a celebratory Heineken at the moment, or I was, I just finished it. I love Heineken. I don't love the fact that it requires a bottle opener to open. I'm getting tired of using a spoon to pry my way into each bottle bit-by-bit. Still, it's worth it. I find I like the taste of beer - what I've tried anyway, and that's pretty limited. Coors Light and Heineken Light. That's all, and Heineken wins. It's really good if you've got something salty to go with it. And if you already knew this, then cut me some slack, I've only had maybe eight beers in my entire life, and five of them have been from my current six-pack of Heineken (bought last weekend). Anyway, beer is tasty, and it complements my post-publishing celebration perfectly. Now I'm off to bed, and then maybe to sleep. Who knows?
Oh, did you want a link to my story? It's a continuation of Labyrinth, the 1986 fantasy film. If you've not seen it, then I think you're probably just like the other 99.999999999...% of the population, and I wouldn't recommend reading it. But if you have seen it, and want to know what happens next, from my point of view, then by all means, read your heart out: The Power of the Right Words.
06 February 2008
Counting down until dinner...
So, I got back from my Biotechnology lab at about 5:30. The lab starts at 12:35. Yeah. So, I'm a little hungry since I haven't eaten since...well, I haven't eaten today. Period. Right now, I'm waiting until Becca finishes her webassign and then we can go get dinner. They're serving corndogs, one of my favorites!
In lab today, we turned in our first Lab Report, and I hope mine's ok. It ended up being eleven pages, but I should definitely get bonus points or something because of the time I spent editing my gel electrophoresis images to include titles and captions and labels within the image itself. But that's just my opinion.
When we started lab today, I mistakenly thought it would be a short lab - no long 2-hour incubation this session. I was wrong. But first things first, my partner didn't show-up. As I was starting my crystal violet prep gel, my TA told me that my partner was sick and couldn't come today. My partner and I work together very well - we're very efficient, she and I, and we're always the first to be done and then to leave. I figured that today, I'd probably be last because I'd have to do it all myself. Not so. I was the only person working by myself today, but I was still the first person to finish the experiment correctly. Fancy that.
Oh, good, she's done. We can go eat now. I'm famished.
Poetry Collection
This is the poetry collection I turned in for my Creative Writing Course. Read it and forget it, if you like. Don't read it, and forget about it. Or, you can read it and tell me what you think...or not. Whatever you like.
insecurity
When you read my anxious words,
Will you think that I’m a nerd?
Will you say, “Is that all?”
Heaven knows, I am quite small.
Will you like the way I rhyme,
Or will you think it’s a waste of time?
Will you think that I’m too shallow?
I can’t help my being callow.
Will you enjoy my simple lines,
Or will you deplore my simple mind?
When you’ve read me wall-to-wall,
Will you remember me at all?
Nouvelle Auteur
There once was a girl liked to read,
She devoured great books with great speed.
‘Til one day she parted
From books ‘cause she started
To write them instead of to read.
Look
Forty-two feet away
In a mob of people, a mall of faces,
One couple stands out, walking hand-in-hand.
At first glance they seem like a normal couple,
But something invites the eye to take a closer look.
Thirty feet away
One speaks, one is silent.
I see her lips move, but her words don’t reach me.
Perhaps she talks of nothing, something, everything.
But that’s not why I look.
Twenty-six feet away
He nods absently at her words,
His ears are clear, but I don’t think he’s listening.
All he can hear is the rich sound of her voice.
Perhaps that’s why I look.
Ten feet away
His arm slips ‘round her waist,
I can see his face in the shifting light,
My breath hitches in my throat;
This is why I’m looking.
Seven feet away
I now see his face with startling clarity;
Shining through it is his heart, brimming with contentment.
Nothing else matters to him but this moment,
This shining moment. With her at his side, his life is perfect.
Does she know?
Five feet away
They pass a glassy storefront;
Her head turns briefly and she sees his reflection.
Her lips pause and then fold into a soft smile
As she sinks into his embrace.
She knows.
Two feet away
This is what I was meant to see:
Two people realizing the value of what they possess,
A small, bright world of light protected in the shelter of their arms,
A thing too rare and precious to let go.
Three feet past
Two people pass me by;
Both are silent.
Fred
You’re making me angry, Fred.
I need these pages by tomorrow, Fred.
Just print them and I’ll go away.
How hard is it to print on two sides?
I thought all printers could do that.
Apparently not.
Fred, get it right.
I don’t want page 7 on the back of page 3.
No, Fred, printing a blank page isn’t any better.
Fred, I’m warning you…
I’m trying to save ink, Fred,
And you’re wasting paper.
Just print, please, Fred!
Do it right or I swear I’ll throw you out.
What’d she just say?
Ok, she’s right, I won’t.
I never throw anything away.
But Fred, get it right, or I swear…
Fine! One-by-one, we’ll take our time.
It’s not like I have a lot to do tonight.
Oh, wait, I DO, so just print!
Finally!
Thank you, Fred.
Can I call you Fred? How about George?
Do you like that better?
Fine, ignore me, power off.
We’ll talk later.
-A tale in three parts-
1. Choices
There once was a girl who couldn’t choose
Which language she wanted to use
Instead of a decision
She made it her mission
To use indecision as her muse.
2. Respuesta:
Había una niña que amaba
La lengua español y la tomaba.
Mais aujourd’hui elle veut
Parler le français surtout.
Y mañana no sé que ella hablará.1
3. This just in:
There once was a girl who had spare time,
Which she spent on a bilingual rhyme.
She forced it a bit
To make it all fit
But she hopes you forgive her that crime.
...Which Way?...
On no particular day, in no particular place,
Two strangers crossed paths in the street.
The girl was quite late, and quickened her pace;
The poor boy was lost and quite near defeat.
Asked the boy of the girl, address in hand,
“Can you tell me how to get from here to there?”
Said the girl to the boy, after a quick scan,
“I can tell you how to get from here to there.”
His destination she double-checked,
And drew a map in her head.
When the full path she could project,
She turned to the boy and said,
“Up Street A you must progress,
And then turn onto Street B-”
“Pardon me,” he asked in some distress,
“But which way onto Street B?”
‘Oh, dear,’ thought she, ‘which way indeed?’
That question was always a bother.
Was it toward the hand to write with she needed,
Or was it, perhaps, toward the other?
Raising her arms, she imagined taking that route,
In the direction of the turn, she put forth the appropriate hand.
That it was the hand she wrote with, she had no doubt,
And whether or not she could name it, she had to take a stand:
“You turn right onto Street B,
And pass Diner 1, Gas Station 2, and Hotel 3.
When you’ve passed by the third tree,
You have to make a turn onto Street C-”
“Which way onto Street C?”
Came the exasperated query.
The answer refused to come freely
Although she knew she was making him weary.
Again she pictured herself taking that path,
Letting her hands turn an imaginary wheel.
It was in the direction of the hand she didn’t write with,
Although she still couldn’t name it at will.
Embarrassed, she turned to her side for a brief spell.
On both hands, she extended her first finger and thumb.
It was in the direction of the one that made the shape of an ‘L,”
And at length she was able to answer, although she felt quite dumb.
“You turn left onto Street C,
And continue past Theater 4.
Once you pass the marquee,
Your destination will be on your...”
Once more her words paused in their flow,
Confusion paining her sight.
“It will be on your left. Wait, no!
Yes. No! It will be on your right.”
Her stumbling directions assigned,
He thanked her for her time,
And then presumably went off to find
Someone with reason, and not just rhyme.
When his form was a blur,
She let her frustration show.
Why it was so hard for her,
She just didn’t know.
Shrugging it off, she tried not to despair.
Her eyes on her feet and the ground below,
She didn’t notice it until she was already there:
A fork in the road; now which way did she go?
She fretted for a moment, and then a light came on overhead.
Thrusting a hand into her pocket, she pulled out a paper and read:
“At the fork in the road, turn left; the garden is just out of sight.”
Relieved, she tucked the paper away, and then promptly turned right.
04 February 2008
As Promised
So, let's talk about me and things in general...
Me: So, tell me, did you have a good weekend?
Me: I did, thank you for asking. On Friday, I got out early from tutoring, and I returned to my room and began working on the fourteenth chapter of my story. I posted it online later that night, and received some very positive reviews. That was very exciting. Then, on Saturday, I slept really really late, and went over to Thomas's with Becca and her boyfriend Jacob for a day of games and fun.
Me: "Games and fun," I like that inversion.
Me: Thank you! Anyway, I brought three games to Thomas's: Catchphrase, Cineplexity, and Balderdash. We started the day off with a round of Jeopardy that I'd really prefer not talking about...
Me: Someone's a sore loser...
Me: I am not. Ok, maybe I am. But I knew the answer to all but two of the questions, and I buzzed in as energetically as everyone else, but the darn sensor wouldn't pick up my signal. Moving on. We played Pyramid, which was also pretty fun. And then we played SceneIt for X-Box 360. Man, talk about a fun game! That game rocks! If anyone is looking for a gift idea for me - that's the ticket right there. Oh, and, uh...while you're at it, perhaps an X-Box 360 might be a good present too.
Me: You must have some generous friends.
Me: I do. I also kicked butt at that game, winning by over 20,000 points more than my nearest competitor. It was quite a rush.
Me: I'll bet.
Me: And then we played Catchphrase for five rounds, and then we played my all-time favorite, Balderdash! I didn't win, but I rarely do at that game. The fun lies in the creative and oft-times hilarious things people come up with. It was so much fun to play again, after a hiatus of over two years. I can't wait to play again. After that we played cineplexity, and Thomas won that, and declared that he had to get a game like that for himself. It is a really cool game, and I was glad that I got to play this time - I've always been stuck being the judge. And then we played something else called In a Pickle that was quite fun. And then it was Midnight and time to go.
Me: Did you watch the Superbowl on Sunday?
Me: Of course! I had it on a moment or two before the coin toss. I watched a few commercials, but I was busy updating my resume and researching how to write a cover letter to pay too close attention. At nine, a movie called Miss Austen Regrets came on Masterpiece Theater, so I changed the channel. It was a delightful film, although I was abstracted from watching it closely due to my homework. I flipped back to the game a few minutes after it was over and heard from a friend of a friend that the Giants had won. It was certainly a day for the underdog.
Me: I'll say. Were you rooting for any team in particular?
Me: Are you kidding? Oh, sorry, you're not. The answer is 'no,' I wasn't rooting for any team in particular. I don't really go for sports. Not even sports played by my own school. I went to a basketball game a few weekends ago...I wasn't that impressed. NCSU won in the last second or so, but still, I wasn't impressed. I would have rather been at home with my family, enjoying a nice, peaceful weekend instead of appeasing a certain member of my family. Still, my parents did their best to salvage what would have been a completely ruined weekend. I find it ironic that the one person who never wants to go home on the weekends citing "nothing ever gets done," as her reason, made it damn near impossible for anything constructive to get done that weekend because she couldn't find it in her heart to give us one full, measly weekend of her time.
Me: Be careful; that savors strongly of bitterness.
Me: Bitterness? Oh, I hope so. I was pissed, that weekend, and I still get pissed every time I think about it. I don't forgive easily enough, I suppose. But I hate selfishness.
Me: Perhaps we should steer the interview into less charged waters. Tell me, what did you need a resume for?
Me: Well, it's for this class I'm taking - graduate transitions. It's supposed to help me transition from college to the occupational world, something I greatly need. Next week, we're doing a speed-networking event, and I have to wear business casual wear. That means that this weekend, I must go buy some business casual wear. I hope I have enough money in my account. I need slacks, stockings, a nice shirt, new shoes, and probably a satchel or a nice looking purse. That's gonna cost me. Still, it will be necessary at some point down the road, why not now?
Me: Very true. Tell me about your other classes.
Me: Well, let's see. There's French, which I love. My professor always takes each new verb we learn down to its Latin root and then shows us several English variations; that's so cool! And then there's creative writing, which I don't hate, but I don't love. We're wrapping up a unit on poetry, and I have to say that I really don't have much respect for poetry. I'm not a fan of free verse; I think it has the potential to be the splatter-painting of the art world in that a three-year-old could do it.
Me: That's quite a controversial view.
Me: Yes, it is. But, I'm one of two other people in my class who feel the same way, so I'm confident that when it's my turn to have my poetry collection critiqued by the class on Wednesday, I'll have at least two allies. Then there's my biotechnology course which is great. I have the lecture on Monday's and then a five-hour lab on Wednesdays, and I'm getting to do stuff I've only ever read about. That's pretty exciting - like anion-exchange filtration and ...well, that's it so far for the new stuff. Still, we've done electrophoresis and restriction digests of certain plasmids, and those have turned out well enough. And then there's my Human Anatomy course.
Me: Your tone just dropped; I sense ominous news...
Me: Not so much ominous as expected. You see, our first exam is next Thursday, and, talented as I am in the art of procrastination, I have a lot of catching up to do before then. I also have a lot of identification to get down - landmarks on the bones, the bones themselves, ligaments, and this week we're learning skeletal muscles. We get to use our dissecting kits for the first time, and that is exciting. But I'm just so far behind that I'm afraid I won't be able to catch-up in time. Still, I usually find myself in this situation, and I usually pull through. Let's hope so this time.
Me: Indeed, let's hope so. So, what's on the agenda for the rest of the night?
Me: Well, I'm going to hop in the shower, and then put away my laundry, maybe make my bed, and then get down to some homework. I have a lab report for biotechnology due on Wednesday, so I'd like to get that knocked out, and then after that, I should read a bit for anatomy. And after that, maybe I'll get some more of my chapter 15 written. I'm quite excited about it: I've just written the first argument between my principal characters and I can't wait to get it finished and posted to see what my readers think!
Me: Well, I wish you luck with that. Thanks for stopping by and have a great night!
Me: Thank you for having me! I'll see you later! [Leaves]
Me: Thank God! What a nut case!
