I just wanted to drop in and let everyone know I'm still here.
But wait. Isn't that strange that I feel obligated to drop in here for the convenience of my readers? I ask because a few people have told me that my blog sounds like I cater to an audience. Like I write for an audience, and not for myself.
I suppose they're right; but everyone else's blog has taken the same route. Now, we use blogs more as a means of correspondence. If not for the blogs, I would have no clue of what some people have done this summer or how they feel about leaving home.
And anyway, as much as I love to hear myself talk, I have a surprising distaste for my own self-indulgent writing. Which reminds me.
I told Jason's new GF I was to be an English major, and she asked me if I wanted to be a writer. Caught off guard, I said yes. Immediately, I blushed. It sounds so ridiculous when you say, "I want to be a writer," as if your eyes should dilate and tear up, gazing at an imaginary dancing stack of all the "books" that you, a writer, will one day publish. Tell that to one of the Tenure n' Tweed Profs on campus this fall, and they'll tell you another one.
In fact, I've adopted a number of responses to "career choice" questions. Print them out and paste them on color-coded notecards, and you'll have a sure-fire conversation dodger for any adult confidence usurper.
"So, what are you going to do with that high school diploma, eager young man?"
"Well, sir/madam/sweet child, I'm going to..."
1. "...become a writer! Like, a book one!"
2. "...probably major in English. Maybe I'll try to write, but I wouldn't mind teaching."
3. "...well, right now, maybe study English, but I fully expect to change my mind."
4. "...oh, the default is English, but of course, I'll probably change my mind a few times."
5. "I'm not sure. Maybe English, maybe History, um... something in the Humanities, y'know?"
6. "...be pre-law."
They go in ascending order of untruthfulness, and, of course, I never use the first one. I might be spineless, but I am sick and tired of seeing that little smirk on all of my parents' friends' faces. And truthfully, I really don't know what I want to do. I've never felt a calling for anything. Hell, there's even a chance I might fall back on Art, in which I case I'll have to transfer because an art degree from UC is as good as a toilet paper square with "B.A. in Art" scribbled on it. That number six answer, I actually used on this family I'd met to paint their wall, part because I was tired of the English major track, and part because I've thought often, "hey, Law might be fun."
One more gripe before I finish: nobody has heard of my school. Kristen feels the same way about WashU, and we trade stories. The responses we get from people when we tell them where we're going. In the University of Chicago's (UC's) case, everybody assumes it's a state school. Even Midwesterners think you're referring to University of Illinois-Urbana, Champaign (UIC) or University of Illinois at Chicago (which is a campus-less city college). People never know what to say, except "So... what made you choose that school?" and I usually just give the big spiel on how my family's from the area, and how I love the city of Chicago. It sounds a little braggadaccio to say "Well, it has one of the most challenging liberal arts curricula in the country, the Ivy Leagues are always trying to steal our faculty, and it has produced more Nobel Prize winners (75, to be exact) than any other national university. It was also the place where REM sleep was discovered and the site of the first self-sustaining nuclear reaction, BITCH." Of course, because our alumni aren't rich, we don't get a strong ranking in the US News report (of course, I always like to show people this ALTERNATIVE ranking.
They tell us that "the people who matter" will have heard of UofC (reverse-elitism), but it would be nice if my parents got a little recognition for all that money they're forking over, right?
But wait. Isn't that strange that I feel obligated to drop in here for the convenience of my readers? I ask because a few people have told me that my blog sounds like I cater to an audience. Like I write for an audience, and not for myself.
I suppose they're right; but everyone else's blog has taken the same route. Now, we use blogs more as a means of correspondence. If not for the blogs, I would have no clue of what some people have done this summer or how they feel about leaving home.
And anyway, as much as I love to hear myself talk, I have a surprising distaste for my own self-indulgent writing. Which reminds me.
I told Jason's new GF I was to be an English major, and she asked me if I wanted to be a writer. Caught off guard, I said yes. Immediately, I blushed. It sounds so ridiculous when you say, "I want to be a writer," as if your eyes should dilate and tear up, gazing at an imaginary dancing stack of all the "books" that you, a writer, will one day publish. Tell that to one of the Tenure n' Tweed Profs on campus this fall, and they'll tell you another one.
In fact, I've adopted a number of responses to "career choice" questions. Print them out and paste them on color-coded notecards, and you'll have a sure-fire conversation dodger for any adult confidence usurper.
"So, what are you going to do with that high school diploma, eager young man?"
"Well, sir/madam/sweet child, I'm going to..."
1. "...become a writer! Like, a book one!"
2. "...probably major in English. Maybe I'll try to write, but I wouldn't mind teaching."
3. "...well, right now, maybe study English, but I fully expect to change my mind."
4. "...oh, the default is English, but of course, I'll probably change my mind a few times."
5. "I'm not sure. Maybe English, maybe History, um... something in the Humanities, y'know?"
6. "...be pre-law."
They go in ascending order of untruthfulness, and, of course, I never use the first one. I might be spineless, but I am sick and tired of seeing that little smirk on all of my parents' friends' faces. And truthfully, I really don't know what I want to do. I've never felt a calling for anything. Hell, there's even a chance I might fall back on Art, in which I case I'll have to transfer because an art degree from UC is as good as a toilet paper square with "B.A. in Art" scribbled on it. That number six answer, I actually used on this family I'd met to paint their wall, part because I was tired of the English major track, and part because I've thought often, "hey, Law might be fun."
One more gripe before I finish: nobody has heard of my school. Kristen feels the same way about WashU, and we trade stories. The responses we get from people when we tell them where we're going. In the University of Chicago's (UC's) case, everybody assumes it's a state school. Even Midwesterners think you're referring to University of Illinois-Urbana, Champaign (UIC) or University of Illinois at Chicago (which is a campus-less city college). People never know what to say, except "So... what made you choose that school?" and I usually just give the big spiel on how my family's from the area, and how I love the city of Chicago. It sounds a little braggadaccio to say "Well, it has one of the most challenging liberal arts curricula in the country, the Ivy Leagues are always trying to steal our faculty, and it has produced more Nobel Prize winners (75, to be exact) than any other national university. It was also the place where REM sleep was discovered and the site of the first self-sustaining nuclear reaction, BITCH." Of course, because our alumni aren't rich, we don't get a strong ranking in the US News report (of course, I always like to show people this ALTERNATIVE ranking.
They tell us that "the people who matter" will have heard of UofC (reverse-elitism), but it would be nice if my parents got a little recognition for all that money they're forking over, right?
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