The Sad but True
I've never much cared for this weblog. It's a place for me to post when I feel like it, to spew a little bit; an outlet to keep people updated, or at least convince myself that they may care in some capacity since I left college and as a result depleted my friend network to nearly nothing. I've never been a regular poster and I have tried to get my page up and going. Tried to be interesting. Tried a lot of things. But I always feel inadequate when I read the pages of amazing webloggers and know that maybe (just maybe) I could be like them.
I've been writing for years, funny stuff, award winning stuff, semi-published stuff. I'd say my 7th grade English teacher, Phyll, put it best when she said, "I hated having you in my class; one day you'd come in and write the best work I'd ever read by any student, college or otherwise, and the next you'd have some crumpled up piece of paper with nonsense sprawled on it. I'd think you weren't better than 5th grade."
It's always comes down to the same thing...I'd rather read The Slaughterhouse Five again than write about Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry. But I would write a poem in iambic pentameter about bulimia before I would go ride my bike around the block. My first term paper my senior year was on books about Hitler between the world wars. I turned it in late and got a B. My second was on Lotte Lenya, a staple actress in Bertholt Brecht plays and the wife of Brecht's composer Kurt Weill. I poured my heart and soul into this term paper so much, I was bawling and had to have someone else turn it in for me. I couldn't bear to let it go and be judged. (It puts a lump in my throat still)
This was my problem in college. I hated my classes. "Old Testament as History 204" would take backseat to my going to the theatre to learn how to walk like a sex goddess while wearing 7 inch heels. I'd rather volunteer to fix lights than write a paper about the plausibility of the Senate accepting Socrates' fine. But I'd rather write a paper about Descartes than journal about my sexually repressed "Romantic Poetry" professor talking about what the sea represents in poems about ships.
The point is, I apologize for being a failure and disappointment in the "blogosphere"' not being like Bouncer X, who is amazingly hilarious and unbelievably cool and grotesquely talented. The title of this post is a link to his site. Get hooked on him if you want a great read. (PS-I feel the need to admit that I would really like little more than to be listed on his BlogRoller, or at least to know that every now and then he may come and check out the fro and not find it bitterly disheartening that people such as myself read and appreciate his skill)
I've been writing for years, funny stuff, award winning stuff, semi-published stuff. I'd say my 7th grade English teacher, Phyll, put it best when she said, "I hated having you in my class; one day you'd come in and write the best work I'd ever read by any student, college or otherwise, and the next you'd have some crumpled up piece of paper with nonsense sprawled on it. I'd think you weren't better than 5th grade."
It's always comes down to the same thing...I'd rather read The Slaughterhouse Five again than write about Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry. But I would write a poem in iambic pentameter about bulimia before I would go ride my bike around the block. My first term paper my senior year was on books about Hitler between the world wars. I turned it in late and got a B. My second was on Lotte Lenya, a staple actress in Bertholt Brecht plays and the wife of Brecht's composer Kurt Weill. I poured my heart and soul into this term paper so much, I was bawling and had to have someone else turn it in for me. I couldn't bear to let it go and be judged. (It puts a lump in my throat still)
This was my problem in college. I hated my classes. "Old Testament as History 204" would take backseat to my going to the theatre to learn how to walk like a sex goddess while wearing 7 inch heels. I'd rather volunteer to fix lights than write a paper about the plausibility of the Senate accepting Socrates' fine. But I'd rather write a paper about Descartes than journal about my sexually repressed "Romantic Poetry" professor talking about what the sea represents in poems about ships.
The point is, I apologize for being a failure and disappointment in the "blogosphere"' not being like Bouncer X, who is amazingly hilarious and unbelievably cool and grotesquely talented. The title of this post is a link to his site. Get hooked on him if you want a great read. (PS-I feel the need to admit that I would really like little more than to be listed on his BlogRoller, or at least to know that every now and then he may come and check out the fro and not find it bitterly disheartening that people such as myself read and appreciate his skill)
posted by SamSam at 9:34 PM
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