Noteworthiness

Note the First: Amazon.com is INSANE. Check out their latest administrative decision. That's just... insane.

Note the Second: DeBlasi is still an asshole. Today he couldn't just GIVE back the midterms, he had to waste twenty minutes of class time reading out loud examples of essays that he thought were worth certain grades. It's cruel -- what about all the people listening, thinking, Oh GOD, that's my essay, please go away or worse yet, the people anxiously wondering, Will my essay be the D example? It would've been much less tension-building, not to mention nerve-wracking and time-saving, if he'd just photocopied them and handed them out.To add insult to injury, the A essay was the biggest piece of English major bullshit I ever heard in my entire life. In the first paragraph at all there were entire STRINGS of adjectives that sounded painfully unnatural, with random words like "plethora" tossed in for no reason at all.

Then, when he was done mortifying all of us, he went onto his lesson instead of handing out the midterms, thus delaying and causing even more anxiety. In the end, my overall grade was a B. I think he may not be so incompetent after all: maybe he knows his teaching methods anger us, and confuses us with all that bullshit beforehand. I know while I was willing to fight him to the death for my A before, I am now so bewildered in a sheeplike sort of way that I find I can't really complain.

Note the Third: I am gaining weight and my old jeans are starting to no longer fit. AGONY.

Note the Fourth: Damn you, libek!! Now I want Sasha-tachi to be Sims.

Note the Fifth: Got back my midterm in the Creative Writing class also today... Got an A, as I expected, and the professor wrote an ESSAY on the back of my paper telling me how much she liked my writing... Her favorite submission, she said, was the collection of short half-page ficlets we were supposed to write, which I wrote all about Sasha and then cleverly disguised, but this confused me because when she actually gave that BACK to me it was covered in notes about how I was too ambiguous and she didn't understand anything. (Please bear in mind that this assignment WAS to imitate the style of a writer she chose -- I hate doing that -- and the author wrote one ficlet where a wall got tired so it laid down on the bed and then the other walls got tired and laid down and then the ceiling got tired and rested on the floor and the floor said, "Don't lie on me!" and went outside to sulk. Now, maybe it's just me, but even if I'd eliminated every noun in my short stories, I couldn't get less coherent than THAT.)

The most recent assignment was an autobiographical narrative poem, and I went to her and asked if I could do something fictional instead, you see, my life is just so monumentally boring that I have nothing to write about, we spend all day sitting in front of our laptops reading fanfiction.

She said no, but apparently the monotony of my life intrigued her ridiculously. She noted at the end of the piece that she thinks I should make an appointment to see her during office hours so we can talk about it.

...normals.