So....This Thing Called College

I'd rather be a student here than play volleyball at some junior college that can only garuntee me education for two years. I'm just saying. It's the typical sob story that a majority of athletes go through every year: They just aren't quite tall enough, or fast, or whatever else it is that recruiters evaluate young athletes on. Well you're killing a dream by not giving that person a chance. But like I said, my opinion doesn't really matter.

So, if I can't get a volleyball scholarship, I'm just probably gonna settle for going to college in-state. I hear EKU is pretty nice, isn't it? I don't really know much about the colleges in Kentucky. Who knows, maybe I'll keep my job at Outback. I wouldn't mind that. I know it's expensive to move out, too, so it would be smart to stay in my current house.

Okay, that sounds awful. I'm not gonna do that. I'm going to find other scholarships and get through the next eight years (depending on what I want to do). I don't like thinking that there's no point in doing anything or making any important decisions. What's the point of life without obstacles to challenge you? There's no point, really.

My dad says it'll work out. For some reason or other, I don't doubt that.

Makeup blog for 11/1: Negative Nancy Strikes Again

     Sorry, I seemed to forget about this one. Mom's been getting on me about homework and how I have all these missing assignments for this class. I certainly hope a teacher never runs across a student like me again. I may be the laziest piece of work that one could see come ambling through their door, and I doubt any teacher leaves feeling confident in my ability to improve due to said laziness. Seriously, I wouldn't blame any of my English teachers if they thought not-so-kindly of me. I don't know why, but it's only the English classes that I slack off in. Perhaps the overwhelming stress of pre-calc or the ridiculous length of reading assigned by AP Art History that has caused me to stop caring so much in a class I could so easily pass but choose not to. And trust me, this is not me just making an excuse. If only it were that simple. It would be a totally different thing if I wasn't so painfully aware of my grades and how sickeningly, disgustingly close to good (not even perfect) they were.
     I'm not here to preach about the hardships of a student, nor do I care to; Lord knows everyone is already familiar with that speech. I'm not making any excuses because there aren't any. I'm not apoligizing because I know no particular teacher cares about my grades- and apparently neither do I. I know how the world works, and it's my problem.
     I'll figure it out. But I'm just making up a missed blog.

Shake it Like a Polaroid Picture

     Okay, I'll be honest. I don't know that song. But I thought it was relevant because that's was Shakespeare's  name starts with. And he did kind of shake up the world of literature with his revolutionary old style writing that to this day is (sometimes) undecipherable to even the most gifted in understanding Shakespearian diction. Even though, in my opinion, Shakespeare is horrible for forcing teachers to think it's okay to torture their students with trying to read his plays, I can say I admire the orginiality of them (the plays). Many a director has tried (and sometimes failed) to reproduce what Shakespeare thought up in his head.I can only imagine how riveting it would have been to sit (or stand as I understand it) in the audience and watch the actors struggle to personify and memorize those horrendous lines. The story that we are reading right now, for example, would have been thrilling to see. Ghosts and murder. What more could you ask for? Although I can say you would have to be pretty confident in your abilities to act to step up and volunteer for any role- especially a main character -in his plays.
     Perhaps reading Shakespreare is for the best. I can't personally attest to any good it would do me on the outside world to be able to recite the famous "To Be or Not To Be" speech, but I know it might just be advantageous for those who like English and want to major in it in college. And I will grudgingly admit that I may or may not have been enjoying the fact that I can understand a little bit of Hamlet here and there without any help. There's always a bright side I suppose.   

Colorado Mom, You Crazy

     This mother is obviously the overprotective type. And, I'll admit, one of the most overprectitive people I've heard of if she doesn't think that "The Most Dangerous Game" is suitable for her child. That, or the child is just ultra sensitive for some reason. I don't really believe in censoring, unlike this mother here. I think Mark Twain said it best when he stated: "Censorship is telling a man he can't have a steak just because a baby can't chew it." Good one, Twain.
   
     Anyway, I find that if you're literate and smart enough to be in an AP class, then you should be able to read anything you want. It's unfair for a smart kid to have to read dumbed down books just because someone said so. That book or story was chosen for a specific reason. Authors put violence and sex in their stories to get the message across. If you have to put down a book and just think to yourself for a minute about how intense it is, then that means it's working! The author is getting through to you! You're recieveing a message, no matter how revolting it is.

     So don't be the baby that Mark twain talked about that puts everyone down. You aren't forced to read that book or story. I'm sure there's a watered down version of it on the Internet. Find another way to chew that steak and suck it up.