Wednesday, June 27, 2012

I go to college.

So I'm sitting in Mission Prep and I realize that I'm in a room full of 18 - 19 year old boys and I wonder "What the heck am I doing here? These guys are just babies!"
Then I realize I'm still 20, and that 20 is, in fact, a very young age, and that I should just tell my brain to shut up. All the time.
Then I realize I forgot to turn in my library books again, which means 25 cents per book today, which means something like $5 since I have 16 books checked out right now.
Then I realize I can't do math.
Then I realize I'm going on a mission.
Then I freak out.
And then I come home and write about it on my blog.

The end.

Friday, June 22, 2012

biggest bully on the block

We think in increments of time.
It's natural; it's how we were born.
8:48 pm. 5th day. 3rd week. 17th day. 1st month. 92nd year. 20th century.
That's me in a nutshell. Or at least that was the little me. Now I suppose I'd be 5:04 pm. 6th day. 3rd week. 22nd day. 6th month. 12th year. 21st century.

Isn't it strange though? How ingrained this is in our lives?
Clocks, programs, watches, sundials, calendars, meals, bells, schedules, alarms - there are set by time.
The universe runs with it, swings with it, dances with it - but never does it just sit it down and say "Now you be good Time, I'm going to leave for a while. Don't mess up the house while I'm gone."

What if we all just took a moment alone, away from all the pushing and shoving and ticking and tocking and said "See ya later Time! Off to hang with Eternity!"

Ah, what a good ol' 'time' that'd be...

fantasia, I love you.

Isn't it amazing how the simplest of songs can turn tedious moments into spectacular ones?

Sometimes I get a little hole in my heart when I realize that some people actually despise classical music.
And by little hole, I mean the strangling desire to club them over the head with a bassoon.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Ten more years and I might actually have this essay finished...

Someday, I will have kids, and if one of those kids ends up being a girl, I will name her Jane.
I will force little Jane to read all the major works of Jane Austen, as well as any literary criticism in print on the subject, until she knows everything from the laws of inheritance to the different types of carriages and what they represent in terms of wealth. Following this horrible (yet sometimes enjoyable) form of torture, we will bond over the various versions of each film adaptation, and quite possibly the biggest bowl of ice cream known to man.

Why do this, you ask? Why create such a monster?
Because I have now spent almost an entire semester studying Jane Austen and unintentionally become an mini expert on the matter, and would like someone else in the world to appreciate that, besides my professor.