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I was assigned to read “Unruly Americans and the Origins of the Constitution” by Woody Holton, a National Book Award finalist. Woo friggin’ whoo, I know. Additionally, we were required to go to the “chat with the authors” event which was infinately boring. However, Woody is a pretty cute old guy who likes to laugh, so props. Plus the other author was funny and his excerpts made me wish we had been assigned to read his book and not the other one. No offense to Woody because his book is well-written and obviously well-liked by some important people. It’s just that American history makes me want to peal my skin off. so there.
Anyway, on to the awkwardness that I promised. After the chat, I headed over to the library to get my book signed. (Awkwardly enough, I left my book at home and am currently reading the copy that I checked out from the library. A skittish librarian contacted me asking if I’d return the book and I said no…but I’d make sure it got signed.) So there I was. The little gathering consisted of a bunch of adults standing around in clusters sipping decaf coffee out of plastic “mugs” and eating little goodies off of tiny plastic plates. I spotted the first, and only other, young person in area (thankfully a friend of mine) and interrupted his conversation with some guy…who also turned out to be a young person. Loitering and small talk are not my favorite things, but Woody was hanging around with his tiny plate and not sitting at his signing table; I couldn’t just thrust the book at him demanding that he sign in. I chatted with new friend and friend that was actually my friend disappeared somewhere after consuming several chocolate-dipped strawberries.
Finally Woody starts signing books and I pounce on him. After awkwardly explaining why I had the library book for him to sign and telling him a bunch of crap that he didn’t need to know, he signed it and shooed me away. I must have sounded like a flustered school girl talking to Justin Timberlake but really I just felt like an ass having him sign my library book. (At least he probably got an ego boost thinking some 22 year old was hot over him. But whatever.) Not wanting to bolt out of there without having indulged in a few plump strawberries, I moseyed over to the snack table which was attended by two other females. I made some stupid comment about the women flocking to the chocolate and put some strawberries on my plate. Thank god I didn’t put any chocolate on them because as I sat down at a near by chair I dumped one on the floor. I smoothly picked it up while pretending to admire my signed library book. Then, looking around at the sea of chatty professors, I realized that I had no reason to be there, so I bolted. I guess I was trying to fit in or something. Bad idea.
I wouldn’t have fit in regardless because when nobody was looking I ate the strawberry. (floor germs don’t scare me) yeah, gross.
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The student manager observed me at work today, and evidently I am a pretty okay tutor. I’m alright with that.
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My non-fiction full-class workshop was today. I wrote about my car accident. Strangely, the other kid who was getting workshopped today also wrote about a car accident. But his piece sucked and had no point. I did not appreciate sharing my workshop with such a dumbass. So there, I said it.
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I’m writing my senior capstone paper on A Clockwork Orange, and I’m slowly becoming obsessed with the film/book. Studying great literature is inspiring and frustrating at the same time. On the one hand I think, nice work. On the other I think, my writing will never be this good. and shit.
On a semi-unrelated note, I really like how t9 prediction on text messaging doesn’t recognize swear words, so I get duck instead of fuck and shiv instead of shit.
Finally, vitamin C is delicious, and I miss speaking French with people.
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So spring break sucked. It wins for suckiest spring break ever. This one was even worse than last year when we drove 10 hours in a ridiculous blizzard. That one was probably better because it didn’t end with me rolling my car, and this one did. Awesome.