Tuesday, September 4, 2007

My Quest

I think I'm succeeding in my quest. Who knew that it would come naturally, as a matter of course? I am an English major. I am taking 4 English classes this semester and a sociology class, which has promised TOO MUCH reading and writing. There's no way that I can possibly get it all read in time. So I am perpetually showing up to class without having finished my readings. It's kinda exhilerating flying by the seat of my pants. For instance, today I said that I loved something at the ending of this short story. I didn't read it. I just made a movie reference. And it worked.

Hopefully things will become more undone as time progresses.

I got my new phone over the weekend. I'm VERY excited about it. I can download songs onto it and then use them as ring tones. I've been planning who gets what song. Not everyone will get one because there's just not enough space. But the people I most talk to get them. I had grandiose plans of using this Dean Martin song, Daddy's Little Girl, for my dad's cell phone. But it's just not him and me.

Oh yeah! Another mark of disorganization! I'm forgetting to write down things in my planner and on my weekly desk calendar.

I hate Joseph Conrad. Not the person, specifically...But his writing kills me. I hate it. I had to read Heart of Darkness for class in high school. Loathed it! And now in my short story class we're focusing on him for, I think, 3 weeks. It's going to kill me. So, make sure you enjoy this blog because in 3 weeks, I'll be dead.

I kinda hate taking all of those English classes. I haven't read the right books. I feel totally inferior to the people in the class because they've read these amazing books that either I've never read or have never heard of. I'm not sure which case makes me feel worse: not reading a book they mention or having not heard of the author/story they mention.

I wish I had more time in the day because I want to read my own books. I want to finish The Fountainhead. I love the story, but I'm ready to see the lives of the characters be resolved. I think they've been through enough. I think they've hurt themselves enough. And I want to see them be OK because it will assure me that I will be OK. I really relate to these characters, one in particular: Dominique. I wish I could be as strong as she is. I'm doing the same thing as she is in the second part of the book, except she's safer about it. She doesn't care. She might realize later on that she cared the whole time. But presently, she doesn't care, she's not hurt.

I guess that's the trouble with me. I connect too deeply with certain characters in literature. I'm one of those people who cares too much, but wishes she cared too little for the situation. I'm going nowhere. I'm just writing an inner monologue. If you want me to continue expounding my literary life, then let me know, via comment.

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