I am a Pre-Law student, double majoring in German and Journalism & Mass Communications-specifically, news-editorial, with concentrations in religion, philosophy, and political science. (these three concentrations are always changing. I may replace one with English or sociology or something)
See how clever? Journalism and Law degrees are both highly useful. Heck, I could work for a publishing company when I retired, or something...that's the other course of action I have planned out.
In other news, I now know for sure I have a B in my Political Science class. Also, my journalism teacher, for all her supposed wrath, didn't actually count off any extra for my journal being turned in late. So that is effing awesome. Maybe she felt bad cause I had a seizure. I don't want to jinx it, but this seizure has so far done me good. *Now knocking on wood* Well, of course I can't drive for three months now, and I missed my lectures in philosophy... But if I study like mad, I think I'll be ok in all my other classes.
By the way, if you're ever bored and you have those chairs that rock back like the ones in the UNL dorms, you should try standing on them and rocking back and forth. It's like surfing!
Also, I am proud of myself. I have, in one day, applied for three jobs. Crazy-productive, yes? And made a list of everything that is coming home with me and everything that is staying in Iowa with my Aunt.
This has nothing to do with anything else at all, but I can't wait till September. My niece will be born! I wonder if I will get to see her before she starts to get really big. I want to see her when she's just born! I want to find out what her name is going to be, too, of course.
Tell me how to stop giving pieces of myself away to complete strangers.
I walked into class about 5 minutes late. There were definitely some people missing. I began to wonder.... Nah. It's not possible that she would have changed the due date, I thought, she would have notified us by email or Blackboard, like she said she would on the syllabus… I sat through class, which actually wasn’t all that bad for once. We talked about thefacebook in correspondence with the chapter over the Internet. It’s surprising that I didn’t fall asleep. At the end of class, she told us she would return our journals next class period. Apparently, I had assumed correctly. Apparently, she did change the due date. FUCK. So then I had to go up and talk to her about why I missed class on Friday and Monday. (I’m getting as much use out of that little pink slip as I can.) Maybe I could salvage some participation points. She told me to come up to the front so she could write my name down and all that good stuff. When I told her my name, she said something to the effect of, “Oh. Yes…I still have your journal from the second submission. You never picked it up. It’s been six weeks. And you didn’t turn in the third submission, either.” I knew when she recognized my name I was screwed. It’s a lecture class. She doesn’t know anyone’s name. Except for those names she calls at the beginning of every class period…they’re the people you know are completely fucked over because she calls their names everyday, and they’re never there. I had become one of those people. FUCK!! I mumbled something about how I can’t wake up in the mornings, and that I have some sort of sleep condition, which is actually why I was in the hospital…well, it’s likely what caused the seizure, anyway. She didn’t seem sympathetic. I did tell her I actually had my journal with me, and she took it from me and said I could still get some points for it. What is “some points,” anyway? I am not expecting much; not from her, anyway. Then, she gave me some assignments to make up for my absences on Friday and Monday and sent me on my merry way with a “Lift up your head.” “Lift up your head.” Right. Give me a reason to “Lift up [my] head.” >.<
Looking at the syllabus, at the bottom it says it is tentative and that it will be necessary to check Blackboard every week for updates. I did this. I also checked my school email frequently. Nothing. No notification of the change, which would only be responsible of her, considering it is 30% of your grade. Even more so, considering she dropped the last assignment, making the journal 40% of the final grade. If not because it is 40% of your grade, at the very least because she SAID she would. As a consequence, I will suffer a likely fatal blow to my grade. When contemplated even slightly, participation, in this case, is NOT just 10% of your grade. It is, in essence, 50%. I mean I was certainly prepared to take the 10% fall to my grade for missing a class that's at 8 fucking 30 in the morning. But now it looks as if I’m completely screwed over. People have sued for less than this. In addition to this shit, my Philosophy grade is going to be rather horrid, Western Civilization will be a C+, I am almost certain, and Political Science will be at the most a B. That is if I pass the last two tests…I just took the second to last test and failed it. Upon examining the answer key, I discovered a few of the answers they had were wrong, at least according to the book. Which is our only source material. And if I don’t pass that test tomorrow, I will not be able to take the very last one. Which is a bunch of shit. Tests are dropped off the network April 29th. Yes. Tomorrow. With that, I would make a D. You can be sure I would contest the hell out of that. So, German is all that’s left. Oh please, let my German grade be an A. I think it might be…thankfully.
This week is shit. I almost welcome another seizure. Just to be out of here. Maybe I could go home.
I really hate it when people say they're nice, and they're really not. I mean, in all honesty, no one is just completely nice to every single person. With perhaps the exception of my friend back home in Rockwall, Nathan Cobb. I think he's actually nice to everyone. But he's a rare breed. My theory is, you're nice to the people you like. You're nice to the people who are cool enough to talk to you. Even I'm selective. I'm not saying it takes a lot (mostly, just an open mind on your part), but even I have my standards. I'd like to say I'm kind to every single person I come across, but to most people, I probably seem kind of stand-offish. I'm quiet, and I just don't know what to say. This is not always the case, but I often just cannot find a good way to relate to others. To those whom I admire quite a bit, I am often very quiet. I am really my own worst enemy: I let them intimidate me, and instead of saying anything to them, I shell up for fear of making a complete fool of myself. I psych myself out. I think they are too cool for me, and the only way I can bring myself up to their level is to remain curiously quiet... They would have to reassure me of my "coolness factor" by approaching me. Because I am a wimp. And insecure.
I don't mean to sound negative. I'm actually not negative right now at all. I'm feeling a-ok. I should be so thankful that such a thing as someone commenting on one of my posts can brighten my spirits. Yes, that's right. I'm happy because someone left a comment on my last post. Or at least now really curious. I want to know who it is. Who are you? I should be thankful about that, but I am not. Because such a thing, if t'were negative, could have made me so equally downtrodden. Well. Maybe not quite so equally downtrodden. I am also happy because I don't have to take my German test. And because I am 6200's Health Aide next year. And because I feel like being happy. But anyway. Who're you? I'm hopelessly inquisitive.
I like myself ok. I think I'm a pretty cool person, when it comes right down to it. I think I'm likeable. I mean, I am kind and considerate and I'm not too psycho. So why have I always been so alone? What is it? Do I put off some aura? Some sort of "leave her alone" aura? If so, I don't mean to. I don't want to.
I wonder if I could sleep all of tomorrow off? Even though I'll feel like a loser, I'm definitely contemplating it. I'm just tired of feeling alone and unwanted. This whole thing is so stupid. This whole dependence thing. It's ridiculous. Why do I continually need someone else to reassure me that I'm a good person? Because I look at silly things like my journal. I look at it and I think to myself...I don't have nearly enough comments. People just don't care. Why oh why does it matter so much? I thought I was past this. I thought I was past this so long ago. Years ago. It comes back around again, like a virus. Even with all the times I've been infected, I'm still susceptible to it. Sometimes, I do wish so much that I could just give it all up; this unending hope, this faith that has no precedence. Because all it does is hurt me everytime. True. If you don't have your heart open, you can't receive love. But if there's no one there to give it to you, what's the point of leaving the doors swinging wide open, letting the wind blow them every which way?
I've been thinking these past few weeks...love really won't ever come when you actually want it. Love comes at the most inconvenient times. The times when you're really not looking for it. Yeah. Love comes only after you've stopped feeling like a pathetic loser. Damn. I'm not there yet. :/
At times like these, when it's surely too late to expect rational people to be up, I'd like to know someone on the other side of the world. Someone I can just call up on my cell phone and talk to about absolutely nothing at all. Rack up that phone bill. Sorry Mom and Dad, but it's for my sanity! Maybe they'd understand.
One day, I'll wake up and organize my life. And I'll find time to get out the ironing board that I don't currently have and take the clean sheets out of the laundry basket and iron them. Shirts are for amateurs. I'm hardcore. I could see myself falling into that habit; a helpless, hopeless ironing addict. Finding the fastest, most efficient ways to smooth out all the wrinkles. Something I finally have control over. Something finally so fully and completely visible, from start to end.
People like me don't strive. I don't move forward because I don't like that I can't be perfect at something. I get stuck with this idea of how something should be and I won't move forward if I can't make it turn out that way. And so, I find more and more lately that my true joy is in the menial things. I think to myself as I write this, is that so unwise? Because if it makes you happy, what else matters? I've never considered myself a hedonist, but maybe I am. And maybe they are not menial. Just because something is simple does not mean it is meaningless. It's like impulse...Impulse is a matter of simplicity. There is no planning, it's completely spontaneous. But at the same time, what is impulse has surely been considered before; the idle mind has at one point, or several, thought it over. In truth, perhaps impulse is only the lack of planning a certain time or place to do a certain thing. Simplicity is the same. Pointedly, simplicity is the result of continued contemplation and actions to eliminate all that is meaningless in your life. So to me, simple=meaningful. And in the end all I want is happiness, fulfillment, meaning. And each of these somehow helps to achieve the others. The three derived virtues: happiness, fulfillment, meaning. The three god-given virtues: faith, hope, love. Is there any significant correlation? Did I just discover something important, or is that the result of attempts towards deep reflection at 5 AM? And if it happens to be the former, why the hell is such clarity given to me at such an inconvenient time? Nevertheless, I am grateful.
You scored as asian. Yur Asian!
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