godream

Okay, so an informal poll has concluded that nobody actually gets what terms such as "date" mean. And both girls and guys are always complaining about how completely bewildering the opposite sex is. So here's the solution.

( Elementary, my dear Watson! )

I put in my last few hours at the library yesterday; my last day working at L-S was last week. Obviously I'm not a high schooler anymore, but I can't think of myself as a college student yet either, in spite of my and my parents' hard-earned cash already heading towards Cambridge. Kind of funny how much of my self-image is wrapped up in just a couple sentences.

Can you see this going somewhere depressing? Yeah, me too. So I'll opt for cynical instead: this is eerily familiar from earlier this summer. Stupid asset tags. :P

I was gonna grace all of you with the latest from my creative writing class, but, um, I gave my teacher my only copy of "Divorce: a fairy tale" with the fourth paragraph fixed so it doesn't suck. And I didn't save it anywhere, 'cause I'm smart like that. So you'll just have to wait. I know you're all crying inside. Don't get your hopes up -- I think the title's cooler than the rest of it. Except for this mildly cheesy apple pie metaphor that I am absurdly proud of 'cause it does that epic simile thing where you say Thing A is like Thing B when Thing B does X Y and Z so that it is like Thing A ... It made sense when my Latin teacher explained it that way, anyways.

Anyways -- I have the feeling that class is going to do better than any of my nanowrimo attempts to just force me to take pen to page, or more often fingers to keyboard, and write already. Which is great; I need to do that, and much as it pains me to admit it, I seem to need the goad of being graded to admit it. I blame senioritis. It's nice to have such an all-purpose excuse as that, it really is.

Speaking of grades and things I don't want to admit but nevertheless feel compulsed to discuss in this public environment: I find myself looking forwards to in college being a freshman again. I know, "what?! freshmen suck!" But think about it: if you get lost, if you don't know routines, if you fail to do something, it's okay, you're a freshman, you're expected to screw up once in a while. You're not expected to take charge and lead and know exactly what's going on. You can be passive and incompetent and it's fine because that's all anyone expects, really -- and then if you're not, it's unusual, remarkable, extraordinary! ... Actually, that's probably just high school, but it's a nice idea, isn't it? Freedom is low expectations. I really hope college people never ever see this. But if you're an admissions officer you should consider this merely philosophical discourse. Really.

Also, if you got a higher score than me on that penguin baseball thing, you should know that I hate you. Especially if it took you less than half an hour to do it. :P

I love metaphors. Somehow, nine times out of ten, when I explain something it turns out to be "see, it's like this, because:". Linked lists are like treasure hunts, iterators are a kid following the clues. And when I talk I use my hands a lot -- I was explaining this afternoon to a teacher how come she had to save images to the web server, and somehow I couldn't without extravagant gestures. "You have to save here" -- points toward server room -- "as opposed to there" -- waving in general direction of math hall and pi server -- "because then all these people can see it" -- gesture encompassing the room, and the world at large -- "as opposed to just the math department." Hands together, small. ... That was actually the version with only the relevant gesticulation, there was about twice that much IRL.

And the thing is: ( look at me, I'm deep! or at least loquacious. )

So -- essay question: do I think like a poet or a programmer? (Or just another geek with too much time on her hands. Points will be deducted for choosing this answer.)

I just realized when I say metaphor half the time I mean simile. Feel free to interchange the two in your mind to try to make this ramble make sense. Or not.