School started two weeks ago. Where, you may wonder, was the standard "I hate school why do I have to go I'd rather complain about it in my blog than grapple with the reality that I must sit in class whine whine etc. etc." entry? Lean in close and I'll whisper you a secret: I like it. I like it all. I haven't had much time to blog, but on the other hand, my classes are so very...fitted to what I like. So very...positive. Ew. I must be growing up or something. Or maybe it's the realization that I don't know where I'll be in a year, and that where I am now is a nice, nice place. I know for very certain that this semester I will still be in college. Nothing to really scare the crap out of me there.
:::Sigh:::
This semester is also the SEMESTER OF TRYING NEW THINGS. I've gone to different restaurants, and I've started taking Salsa lessons. Perhaps I will gain some more perspective from it all.
On a different note, crazy people have also started to talk to me. More and more. As I sat doing homework at FSM the other day, a man approached me to tell me what a great performance I was putting on. After my feeble thanks for his compliment, he went on to explain what he meant. He says my, "Powers of concentration are very great..." and that he had "seen me for over an hour, and I had not looked up from my work once." In appreciation of which, he then borrowed my cup and got me a cup of ice from the counter.
Then, just last night, I was privledged with a visit from Piano Man Berkeley as I sat at Au Coquelet reading some Faulkner. He is an individual, you see. Dare he say it, a poet. And for this reason, he writes, but is never published, and the atrocities which the Social Psychologists have put him through are, to say the least, unmentionable. He did make me a present of a four-page sample of his writing, and tell me something about how he was in Dallas during the Kennedy assasination. Perhaps if I get the urge I will type some of his extraxt out for you later. For now, I need to go read some Gogol. Appropriatly enough, I've been assigned his short story "Diary of a Madman," due tomorrow.
My powers of concentration are very great...
:::Sigh:::
This semester is also the SEMESTER OF TRYING NEW THINGS. I've gone to different restaurants, and I've started taking Salsa lessons. Perhaps I will gain some more perspective from it all.
On a different note, crazy people have also started to talk to me. More and more. As I sat doing homework at FSM the other day, a man approached me to tell me what a great performance I was putting on. After my feeble thanks for his compliment, he went on to explain what he meant. He says my, "Powers of concentration are very great..." and that he had "seen me for over an hour, and I had not looked up from my work once." In appreciation of which, he then borrowed my cup and got me a cup of ice from the counter.
Then, just last night, I was privledged with a visit from Piano Man Berkeley as I sat at Au Coquelet reading some Faulkner. He is an individual, you see. Dare he say it, a poet. And for this reason, he writes, but is never published, and the atrocities which the Social Psychologists have put him through are, to say the least, unmentionable. He did make me a present of a four-page sample of his writing, and tell me something about how he was in Dallas during the Kennedy assasination. Perhaps if I get the urge I will type some of his extraxt out for you later. For now, I need to go read some Gogol. Appropriatly enough, I've been assigned his short story "Diary of a Madman," due tomorrow.
My powers of concentration are very great...
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