Ew.

Last year when I took all of my remedial courses I was excited to write most of my papers. My English professor always chose interesting topics and my writing always flowed out of me almost as effortlessly as when I ramble in these blogs. I did well despite my grammatical errors and affinity for run-on sentences and fragments. But this time around my new English professor seems to be choosing some very lame topics. He’s a big fan of the persuasive essay and the topic sentences, man does he LOVE topic sentences. I loath topic sentences, I feel like they’re amateurish and corny, I typically refuse to use them. This had always worked out fine in the past, but OH NO, not anymore. I got a C on my last paper, a first for me, I was grossed out by this letter grade… especially when the biggest reason sighted for it was my failure to execute the mechanical turd that is the topic sentence.

I’m tired of writing dribble. The longer I spout on in these persuasive essays the more of a tool I become. I’m beginning to sound like a bad infomercial and am dry heaving with every click of my keyboard. It’s my belief that my professors goal for this semester is for us all to emerge with no soul.

Don’t waste another minute, run out and get your application today and you too can become a soulless robot with a knack for a good thesis statement! This offer will end soon, only 5 spots left, but if you call in right now we’ll throw in the tutoring FOR FREE! Hurry up!

Kill me.

Just old enough.

We’ve been discussing high school fairly often in class and the more we share our stories of this time the older I feel. When I share a story from my sophomore year I’m bringing up something from 10 years ago, most of my classmates were still wetting the bed 10 years ago.

Today we were discussing student behaviors when it dawned on me that my views may be out-of-date. Do kids still deal with the nonsense that I did? I had thought so, I was sure that teens never changed and we all just watched history repeat itself numerous times over. Am I wrong?

I always have this feeling of being old when I sit in my classroom filled mostly with 18 year olds, but today was the first time I felt outdated — I didn’t like it.

I’m too young to feel so old.

Dissected

I feel compelled to apologize for my lack of updating around here, although I doubt anyone has noticed… nor do they care. In late August I started my voyage to higher learning and since have been overwhelmed. I don’t exactly know how to juggle life and learning yet. I don’t feel comfortable writing now that I’m taking a writing course that’s making me feel a bit under a hot lamp. I’m starting to over think every word I write, even in simple forums such as Twitter. Even my Tweets are poorly lacking in updates! It’s ridiculous, I know this is supposed to be helping my skills but it’s breaking me down in the process. My professor expects me to spoon feed every word to the readers like they’re morons, even Terrence agrees that this is necessary in writing. Obviously I’d like to give my readers a little more credit for not being complete morons. If you get lost easily on what I’m talking about then I’m not really sure you should be reading at all. I shouldn’t have to restate what I’m discussing in every sentence in order to keep you in the know. Sweet leaping Jehovah! Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest I’m going to torture myself with some math problems in order to prep myself for failing my test later tonight. Wish me luck.

I’ll never fall in love with a math equation.

When I was ten or eleven I had a mathematical breakdown. We had started long division in 4th grade and I couldn’t wrap my head around it. My older brother Paul, his then girlfriend and even my father all in one night tried to coax me off the ledge and explain this “simple” formula to me. I ended that night at the kitchen table crying into my notebook of unanswered problems. I’m twenty-five and I still don’t understand long division, I thought this was all behind me, I thought I was done for good… that is until I failed my placement test and was tossed into a calculator-less environment of smartypants teenagers and a blackboard cluttered with fractions and the key to everything seems to be none other than long division. Fuck.