So the semester has hit me like a ton of bricks from a 10 story building. And if you've ever had bricks fall on you from that high, you know what I mean. OMG! Why in God's name did I ever think it was ok to take THREE english classes, economics and ITALIAN II. My life doesn't belong to me anymore. Those ghastly books have my full attention and it is in no way, shape or form as FUN as I thought it to be. Don't get me wrong reading has and always will be something that I love, *something that I'd rather do than watch TV, which is my second love*. But I mean come on, Walt Whitman is a psycho. I bet you he did not even know what he was writing when he wrote it. Other people just read so much in between his lines and now they magically have so much meaning to them. GEEZ, and don't get me started with Emily Dickinson. That crazy lady... what does a loaded gun have to do with feminism. You get assigned these readings and somehow you are expected to know what it means, I mean come on. That would have gone completely over my head.
My new Italian professor is the head of the department and you know how they can be. They feel that their class is the most important and that they rule over you in a sense. I wish I had my other professor, I can't remember his name, come to think of it, I don't think I ever knew his name. Oh well, that's beside the point, I want him back.
So getting to the point... I don't know when the next time I'll be posting, but I know I'll have a lot to say. Do you ever notice that school is like the breeding grounds for so many stories? Well for you guys it might be your jobs, I know TM always has a story from her job...Anywho, have a lovely day in blog world.
Until next time,