School started yesterday, which was fantastic. I’m not a huge fan of how crowded campus is, but that’s what you get for going to such a large school. I just get claustrophobic even though I’m outside riding my bike on the street and the streams of people are passing by on the sidewalk. I know it’s not really claustrophobia, but I don’t know how else to say it. See how bad I am with words?
It took less time than I thought it would to bike to class, like 12 minutes? I parked my bike at the Journalism building, which is extremely convenient for all my classes. My first class, Political Science Security Policy During and After the Cold War, is in the Journalism building in a lecture hall just too small for the class. Actually, only one person would have had to stand if one guy didn’t think his backpack needed an entire seat to itself. Did your backpack pay tuition? I don’t think so. It was really interesting and fun, and my professor is hilarious. I’m probably just one of the super awkward people that laugh at any clever quip. I think I would like the subject matter a lot because it applies a lot of the theory I learned. I want to see Realism in action.
During the middle of class, the tip of my pen broke. I really like the Pilot G2 0.38mm pens, ultra ultra fine point, but for some reason, the tips break all the time before I get anywhere close to using up all the ink. It’s really frustrating, and I’ve misplaced or broken nearly all of my pens so it was the only pen I had with me at the time. The boy sitting next to me was nice and let me borrow a pen. After class, I ran to the Central Classroom building to buy some pens to use for the rest of the day, but I was starving so I bought some Raisinets and a granola bar to eat in addition to half a cranberry apple muffin I already had. I don’t know why I like Raisinets so much.
My next class was English 398, the writing class for majors. I was a little disappointed that it was like a school writing class. I was hoping we would be working on grammar and sentence structure and stuff like that, but I think we’re just going to be talking about theory (I love all theory in general so I’ll probably love that) and crafting essays for class. I like my professor so far, and I think I’ll take some scraps of sentences to him anyways to try and work on wording things more effectively. I realize that I always have a goal of maximum clarity when I’m writing things whether it’s a Yelp review or a poem, and I never feel like anything is ever clear so there must be a better way to write it.
I always think it’s really interesting when we go around the room and do class introductions. “What’s your name, your hometown, your major, your year, your pet’s name, your favorite hobby, blahblahblah.” This somewhat insightful for me. Since it was an English major class, everyone there was an English major except for me. I was the lone minor. A lot of people were English majors because they like to read and write, which is good because English requires a lot of that, or they really liked their English classes in high school.
I thought that was really strange because I never felt like my high school English classes really left an impression on me except to let me know that I was taking way too many AP classes and should just use Spark Notes. I don’t necessarily regret it because reading the books now, I have a little bit more insight and understanding that I just didn’t have when I was 16. I don’t know. I also didn’t read any books that particularly resonated with me. A lot of people love Catcher in the Rye, and while it is a good interesting coming of age first person stream of consciousness book, I personally like The Sound and the Fury much more. The Sound and the Fury was a book I read in high school that I particularly liked, and I want to read more Faulkner. I’m not saying that I don’t like Catcher in the Rye. I do like it, but it’s not my favorite book. I didn’t read my favorite books, Tess of the d’Urbervilles and Lolita, in class. I would say that Lolita is one of my favorite books right now because I love Nabokov’s writing style, but I think that I should read more of his books. So many books to read!
I’m currently reading Descartes’ Error, but it’s been a slow read. I’m not sure if it’s because the writing is a little dry compared to say Daniel Gilbert’s or if I just want something a little bit more lively. I wish I were reading some fiction too, but usually when I try to do that, I usually just get hung up on the fiction book. I’m reading Poetic Meter and Poetic Form for my poetry class, and it’s a tough read just because I think about it really hard. I don’t have much experience with meter, but I will soon. I’ll get back to this later because I’ve completely gotten off track.
Either way, I was sort of surprised that no one said they liked English for what it is, the language and words and everything that makes it English. I guess, I am really weird for liking English language. A lot of people like and study literature and want to teach, but I really thought that other people would be like “Yeah, English is pretty sweet.” I think that’s why I like Lolita so much. I like Nabokov’s word play and his word choice. Hell, the first lines of the book are probably one of my favorite opening lines ever. A lot of times, I’ll open a book, and the first lines are pretty blah. In Lolita, you are immediately hooked and drawn in, and you feel the passion, love, and delight. You want to read more.
Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.
She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.
In my next class, we saw an awesome TED talk of Hans Rosling at the State Department last year. It is such an amazing video, and I think everyone should watch it. I particularly liked how he used the microphone as a pointer and the Sweden races towards the end. Hilarious. I actually dropped this class already because it isn’t really what I thought it would be.
My last class of the day was English 566, my poetry writing class with Andrew Hudgins. I was so nervous and uncomfortable. Everyone seems very friendly, and Professor Hudgins is a really awesome guy. It was nice that there’s a girl from my 266 class in my class too. I’m really excited but overwhelmed. I don’t feel like a poet or a writer, and there is so much more structure to this class than my 266 class that I feel sort of unprepared. I have to write a poem a week, which is good because I need to force myself to write. I was sort of lazy over the summer, and while I did write one 8 line poem and get a good start on a few, having a deadline will force me to get my act together.
I’m kind of worried because I tend to write short poems. After I get something down, I’m constantly crossing stuff out and getting rid of it to pare it down, but my first poem needs to be 25 lines. I’ve only written one poem more than 20 lines. Then, in a few weeks I need to write a 30 lines blank verse. THIRTY LINES! That’s nearly a million! Not to add, I have very little experience writing in meter. I’ve made some poor attempts but nothing worth anything. The Poetic Meter and Poetic Forms book has already helped immensely. I’ve gotten much better at feeling the rhythm, but I think I need to read much more of it to become comfortable with meter.
Either way, I’m incredibly excited for this year, and I’m really excited for my classes. I want to improve my writing so much and just improve overall. I feel like this quarter I will learn so much, and I’m so excited for it. I didn’t even get to what I titled this entry about, but maybe it’s for the better.
Were the radio waves of my heart able to reach you?
It’s broadcasting from the Heart Station of sinners
And only God knows
How much I miss you.
I can’t go on without forgetting you,
That’s how it seems at least, but why is it
That only all the good memories of us remain?
Without a doubt, even though we’re separated, you’re right here…
Right here at the center of my heart.
Thing that made me happy today: A grandma and grandpa off-roading with a stroller in the park.
