03.26.08
…has since returned. Calamity with lab partner. Midterm exam in 40 minutes. Three labs, and organizing an event (flyers and adverts) for the Ethics of Genetic Technology. State of the Planet 2008 tomorrow. Julia coming tomorrow. Meeting with lab professor tomorrow. Meeting with academic advisor to talk about my Summer and Future and All That It Entails tomorrow. One internship rejection, one in limbo, and one looking not so good. Didn’t really want them anyway, since they were all science research ones, so I’m looking at ones at publishing houses and literary agencies instead. Unfortunately, I am not an English or Journalism major, nor a graphic design major, and everything I do is a hobby. I missed the deadline for Penguin’s internship program, so I guess I’ll look up smaller independent publishers sometime this weekend. We’ll see how it turns out, but right now my summer is under siege.
Meanwhile,
102 words
Speedtest
Yayes?
03.20.08
I am quite sure that my mother would be content if I were locked up all day re-reading my Microbiology textbook, since she told me so yesterday after I had come back from the library with an armful of books.
The point she and my father make is that I can do whatever I want, as long as I do it with passion. So as long as I am stuck in this major for a few more months, I may as well try as hard as I can. But it’s very difficult putting your efforts into something your heart’s not in—well, no. That’s not quite true. I don’t hate microbiology, there’s just other things I’d rather be reading. I told my father that I only had three more chapters to go, only to be met with, “Well, you can always read them again.”
Speaking of the library, I dug out the endless list of books I’ve been wanting to read, and after confirming they were all checked in, begged my father to take me there. I would have walked were it not raining buckets outside. I only brought home one pair of shoes for spring break, and they were my black ballet flats, not at all the fun Kamik rainboots Katie bought me for Christmas.
What happened was this: I ran inside, my hair getting soaked despite my careful machinations. I hadn’t been inside this library for nearly a year, a result of two things: 1) not having any time to read, 2) using the New York Public Library that’s right across the street from my college dorm. As my father hunted for tax forms, I asked the person at the help desk where the YA section was; the building had undergone several renovations and all the shelves were rearranged.
I grabbed Sorcery and Cecelia, as well as the Attolia trilogy by Megan Whalen Turner—all three, and it was still confusing, since The Thief was shelved in Juvenile Fiction. Then, I saw three of Shannon Hale’s books, the ones people have been praising left and right. Which one should I pick? Did I have time to read them all before Sunday? The Goose Girl? Princess Academy? I’d also heard good things about River Secrets. In a flash of resolve, I grabbed all three.
My father was standing right by the checkout, having gotten his forms, occupied by a magazine. As I walked towards him, I tried so hard not to laugh, twisting my lips into a neutral line. Failed, of course. I tried to sneak by him, but no sooner did I reach the checkout, he looked at my spilling armful accusingly and went,
“So many books!”
The bespectacled librarian with grey curls smiled as the computer printed out a long list of due dates. Her eyes turned toward short little me with my hair in pigtails and looking much younger than I really was, and said, “She’s a smart girl. A very smart girl.”
I swear, she probably mistook me for a high school freshman, but I absolutely could not stop smirking at my father’s resigned expression. Like a “Blah, that’s why you phail at bio.” He caught me up at 7 am this morning finishing Sorcery and Cecelia, and said, “If you put this kind of effort towards your engineering studies, you’d be getting A’s!”
I know, I wanted to say flippantly. What does that tell you?
By the way, Sorcery and Cecelia is teh awesome. Mannerpunk, live on!