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Feb. 13th, 2004 11:46 amI spent most of yesterday utterly convinced at some deep level that it was Friday, so I'm not quite sure what I'm doing at school today.
It's been possibly the most low-key Valentine's Day I've seen in high school, which may have something to do with it not actually being Valentine's Day, but rather the last school day before it. No candy grams, no roses, no ridiculous quantities of red and pink walking around the school. That sounds vaguely bitter, but it's not. Just an observation. Anyways, it's making it difficult to summon up the quantities of angst necessary for my annual v-day poem. *sigh* My life is full of trials, I tell you.
So today during creative writing class the teacher sent us out on a ten-minute hall wander in search of inspiration & story starters. I strolled down the hallway (what has that boy done to get kicked out of class?) and past the annex (whose apology is written on the Fountain sign and why?). Then I stood and stared out at a courtyard, where a subtle plaque declares the space "a quiet and enduring tribute to life", in memory of a young woman who would be fifty now, were she still alive. It also says the place was "designed by L-S students". And of all the people I passed and all the notes on signs and lockers and scraps of paper discarded on the flat carpet, ( I thought I'd most like to write about that. )
And of course I could ramble for ages, I could write that story right now, but I have to go try to fix my Towers of Hanoi program. Recursive algorithms are wicked cool but a pain in the neck to implement.
It's been possibly the most low-key Valentine's Day I've seen in high school, which may have something to do with it not actually being Valentine's Day, but rather the last school day before it. No candy grams, no roses, no ridiculous quantities of red and pink walking around the school. That sounds vaguely bitter, but it's not. Just an observation. Anyways, it's making it difficult to summon up the quantities of angst necessary for my annual v-day poem. *sigh* My life is full of trials, I tell you.
So today during creative writing class the teacher sent us out on a ten-minute hall wander in search of inspiration & story starters. I strolled down the hallway (what has that boy done to get kicked out of class?) and past the annex (whose apology is written on the Fountain sign and why?). Then I stood and stared out at a courtyard, where a subtle plaque declares the space "a quiet and enduring tribute to life", in memory of a young woman who would be fifty now, were she still alive. It also says the place was "designed by L-S students". And of all the people I passed and all the notes on signs and lockers and scraps of paper discarded on the flat carpet, ( I thought I'd most like to write about that. )
And of course I could ramble for ages, I could write that story right now, but I have to go try to fix my Towers of Hanoi program. Recursive algorithms are wicked cool but a pain in the neck to implement.
