Archive for May, 2012

Halfway Through the Quarter05.11.12

Was I like this when I was younger? Did I care so little for my education too? Quite often, people will not do their assigned class reading so that when we break into groups to discuss the reading, it’s usually me talking to one other student in the group. In three of my four classes I have group projects, trying to get the group to do their work is like pulling teeth.

I feel bad for the teachers, because I only deal with this on a small scale. It’s disheartening to try to motivate the unmotivated.

My creative writing teacher constantly notes how it must be spring quarter from the listlessness of the class. The bad cop teacher has taken up saying, “Can I get a ‘What What’,”  whenever he wants a response from us. There is usually a mumbled, unenthusiastic “what what” returned.

Today, when the class was a blank stare of sunny Fridays.

Teacher: Can I get a “What What!?”
Class: what what
Teacher: Now can I get a “woot”…nevermind…
Female classmate: What?
Teacher: “Whoot whoot”. You know the song? It’s by Jay Z.
Class: *blank stare*
Teacher: You guys don’t know the song by Jay Z?
Me: You do know the uncensored song says, “Can I get a ‘Fuck you!'” Right?
Teacher: What? No. I worked at the Qwest stadium and they played that song all the time.
Classmate: Maybe because they can’t played the uncensored version there?
Teacher: Hmmm…I don’t believe in censorship, I might have to go with the uncensored version.

If he does, he might get a slightly more enthusiastic response from the surly tough crowd that my class is.

I feel even more bad now, I think I might have ruined something that my teacher really enjoyed. There’s a local station here called “KUBE” that I used to love, the female DJ once talked about how awkward it is when she’s caught singing the uncensored version of R&B/Hiphop song and people looked at her like she’s putting in crude words in there on her own.

People, there are usually explicit lyrics in rap songs. It’s not what’s played on radio, but don’t pretend it doesn’t exist.

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Madness of a Writer05.01.12

It is every boyfriend’s job to tell their girlfriend they are crazy. And my boyfriend takes that duty very seriously. Sometimes he is correct, even if I will never admit it to his face. Other times, it’s simply him not understanding my perspective.

I’ve had some problem sleeping most days. Each week, I have a minimum of two papers due and I spend a few days on each. Every night when I go to bed right after writing, a thousand thoughts continues to flutter in my head. Revisions. Additions. Each so soft and flitting, nothing solid, but continues to pester. Each draft is still not good enough.

boyfriend: It’s good, you should stop worrying.
me: It’s only okay, I know what “good” is, and it’s not that yet.
boyfriend: You’re just being too much of a perfectionist now, it’s good.
me: I’m not a perfectionist, I just don’t accept mediocre work.

This goes back and forth until he realizes it’s better to shut up.

For one of my writing class recently, we had a local writer visit us. She did a Q&A about her writing process. She said, “When you write, be ready to let it consume you, because it will.” A book that she recommends is The Eleventh Draft. That’s about how many revisions it takes to come up with something good.

I felt an, “Aha!” moment. Then barely resisted the urge to call my boyfriend and tell him how right I am. Again.

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