Psychology of Personality test is done! 9:30 class, and the 50 questions were out of the way by 9:48, so that’s not bad. I expect to get around a 75% on this test, which doesn’t bother me at all considering three things: 1). I have done almost none of the reading, and what I have done, I started last night. 2). I have attended only two lectures so far 3). Three of the four exams can be replaced by writing projects that sound far more interesting and informative than the scantron tests do. So, yay.
I now have to go to my Environmental Studies class. Ugh. This is kind of a sleep-fest of a class. I wish I could be more excited about it, but so far it’s been a study of carrying capacity and the role of the sun in photosynthesis and… mm, middle school science, yay. I liked my middle school science teacher. He was funny. I once called into the radio on April Fools and reported that it was his birthday (everyone pretty much listened to the same radio station). I think he appreciated this, though is birthday was apparently in August. 😉
Tonight, I have my Western Civilizations class. We’re studying my friend Aristotle. I have decided to target my Western Civ teacher as a possible source for a recommendation. So far, so good.
Oddly, I’m not wholly hating my Philosophy class anymore. Well, I still despise going, but it seems it’s now the other students that I direct most of my anger toward instead of Plato or the grad student teaching. There’s a woman in class who CANNOT let anything go by without comment. Yesterday, she had a pretty hard time keeping straight the difference between Locke’s suggested government and our own, adding quips such as “but that’s against the law” and regaling us all with a story about the government taking land away from people to build a highway. The guy next to me, who I believe is the aforementioned “cease to think” pen-man, spent most of the hour picking at his substantially matted white-boy dreads. I am trying not to think about that.
I’m still reading the same book, Garth Nix’s Sabriel, but I’ve become quite disappointed by it. I have maybe 100 pages to go, but the heroine has just saved her friend the jester-turned-King from listening to the bell of death by kissing him. Blah. Bring on the cliche, I guess. *Sigh* Still don’t know what he’s completely talking about all the time, so there’s another good sign.
Tonight, I have the evening off from work, and I don’t feel a great need to plow ahead with any homework, so I’m wondering what to do. I might go see “Bowling for Columbine.” My original plan for last night was to go see “The Hours,” but I think I’m going to wait on that and see it with my mom next weekend.
Oh, last night! Forgot to say what an interesting evening it was. My great aunt has made a film about our family history, well, the history behind her and her siblings, at least, so we watched that. It was actually pretty interesting. She filmed her siblings (my grandma, her sister, and grandpa; one other sister and her husband; and two other brothers) talking about the family history. The oldest brother gave a kind of presentation about what he knew about the history of their grand parents and great-grandparents. She had pictures of many of the important places – churches, first homes, towns at the time of their arrival, that kind of thing. The last bit was a voice-over recorded by her son, reading from a transcript of a taped conversation with her father (my great-grandfather), reflecting on his youth and growing up. I can remember my great-grandfather, who died in I think ’85, better than my great-grandmother, who died (I think) in ’89, because she had Alzheimer’s and we didn’t ever really know her.
Anyway, it was interesting. Yay family.
Okay, I think I’m going to get a nice morning coke and read the New York Times for a bit. Mm, caffeine and stories that start with “Lynn Smith dashed off a letter to her two small children, just in case: ‘Mommy’s with God now,’ it says. Then she dashed off to the Home Depot here for supplies to sotck the safe room where she says she hopes her family will be able to ride out a terrorist attack.”
You know, apparently I’m not done. I want to say this: My step-mother, the other week, told me about how her mother used to sit at the table and cry some mornings during the Cuban Missile Crisis because she was so certain the world was ending, and my step-mother feels this way now. I forget, sometimes, that so many people are so afraid. It’s the one thing that starts to make sense to me in our entire plunge toward war: I can understand this reason, even if I think it’s the wrong reason to strike from.