Alright everyone, firstly, I really hope this worked. I’ve
been fighting with blogger for the past 30 minutes, after having completely
given up on it a couple days ago, and am now posting this from my roomie’s
laptop. If anyone ever runs into a tiny chemistry Northeastern major named
Diana Le—please respect her as the lifesaver she is. Great, onto the actual blog.
I’m going to be super honest with you all, I’m usually pretty good at following prompts, but my brain really isn’t having it today. I was up until a very alarming hour last night working on the final edits for a student-written play my theatre group is performing this semester. (Cam, anyone else who knows my theatre group, that’s top secret info-- obviously any edits to the script were completely finished weeks ago. We would never be polishing up a script this late in the semester. Never. ) Point being, I woke up this morning and the very last thing I wanted to do was stare at words on a laptop screen, or honestly even think overly much. I hope anyone reading this is alright getting a ramble, and not anything at all eloquent. Sebastian, I promise to write something more in-line with class discussions and readings next week.
In the continued vein of rambling about what happens to come to mind, it’s a little terrifying that the month of January is essentially already over. This has been one of those months that simultaneously vanishes in what feels like the blink of an eye and also feels like it’s may have actually spanned over decades. On one hand, the semester is almost a third of the way over, which is a shocking realization that I seem to have a third of the way through every semester, and one would think that I’d be used to, by now but somehow I’m not.
In a slightly abrupt change of conversation topic, I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how old I am. It’s a little silly because I’m not that old, not even a senior yet, and still in college. When I was younger, I told myself I’d have so much done by this age. Perhaps I had unrealistic plans-- I certainly couldn’t have expected half of what life ended up throwing at me, but I feel like I’m playing catchup with my own life sometimes. Or maybe I’m just feeling old because I’m in a class with almost exclusively freshman and half of my sophomore theatre kids call me “mom”, and won’t stop on matter what I do about it. I managed to convince one of them that I was totally the groups’ Dad, if anything, and all I got from my troubles was a “world’s best dad” mug. Not exactly what I was going for at the time, but the mug’s kinda cute, so I guess I’ll take it.
I’m going to be super honest with you all, I’m usually pretty good at following prompts, but my brain really isn’t having it today. I was up until a very alarming hour last night working on the final edits for a student-written play my theatre group is performing this semester. (Cam, anyone else who knows my theatre group, that’s top secret info-- obviously any edits to the script were completely finished weeks ago. We would never be polishing up a script this late in the semester. Never. ) Point being, I woke up this morning and the very last thing I wanted to do was stare at words on a laptop screen, or honestly even think overly much. I hope anyone reading this is alright getting a ramble, and not anything at all eloquent. Sebastian, I promise to write something more in-line with class discussions and readings next week.
In the continued vein of rambling about what happens to come to mind, it’s a little terrifying that the month of January is essentially already over. This has been one of those months that simultaneously vanishes in what feels like the blink of an eye and also feels like it’s may have actually spanned over decades. On one hand, the semester is almost a third of the way over, which is a shocking realization that I seem to have a third of the way through every semester, and one would think that I’d be used to, by now but somehow I’m not.
In a slightly abrupt change of conversation topic, I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how old I am. It’s a little silly because I’m not that old, not even a senior yet, and still in college. When I was younger, I told myself I’d have so much done by this age. Perhaps I had unrealistic plans-- I certainly couldn’t have expected half of what life ended up throwing at me, but I feel like I’m playing catchup with my own life sometimes. Or maybe I’m just feeling old because I’m in a class with almost exclusively freshman and half of my sophomore theatre kids call me “mom”, and won’t stop on matter what I do about it. I managed to convince one of them that I was totally the groups’ Dad, if anything, and all I got from my troubles was a “world’s best dad” mug. Not exactly what I was going for at the time, but the mug’s kinda cute, so I guess I’ll take it.
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