A Weight Has Been Lifted

OK, I mentioned last week that I am extremely neurotic when it comes to waiting on grades. I also said that after a year and a half out of school, I was terrified that I wouldn't remember how to write a good essay. This was compounded by the fact that the first of the two essays I wrote for Monday of last week was a real struggle. The words didn't come to me the way they used to, as if by magic. I had to fight my mind for every sentence, even every word. The second essay was significantly easier, but I was still concerned.

Well, I got that first paper back, and I got an A. It is so good to know that I'm still capable of writing a decent essay, and that I am still my own worst critic. I really thought it was probably a B paper. A solid B paper, maybe a B+, but I thought an A was out of reach. Fortunately, as usual, I either undervalued my work or overestimated the harshness of my teacher's grading. Impossible to know which, but I think I'll just assume I undervalued my work. That way I can revel in the moment. Well, now I still have a quiz, another essay, and a test to wait for. If those come back with decent grades, then maybe I'll start to have an iota of confidence in my ability to succeed in my second attempt at college. Fingers crossed.

Let's see, is there anything else to talk about? Not really, I guess. Well, I could talk a little about what I've been reading in my English classes, since I am really enjoying both classes right now. In one we are currently reading some works by Jorge Luis Borges. If you haven't heard of Borges or have heard of him but never checked him out, you really should give him a shot. His "stories" (and I use that term in the loosest sense possible) are most likely very different from anything you've ever read. Very metaphorical, very metatextual, and some of the most dense reading I've ever had the pleaure of experiencing. Every sentence has layers upon layers of meaning. It seems pointless to only have one fifty minute period to discuss each story; we are missing so much of the meat of the work. Oh well, at least I'm getting to read it. In my other class, we just finished The Youngest Doll, a collection of stories by Rosario Ferré. Ferré's work is also very dense and can be difficult at first. Once I really got accustomed to her style, I fell in love with her work. It is bitingly ironic and satirical, and some of the angriest writing I have ever read. To some extent it defies description, so you'll have to take my word for it. We've just started reading stories by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. So far, I can say that his writing is absolutely beautiful prose and his stories are very interesting. I think I'm a couple of steps away from understanding any of it, but hopefully that will come. It usually does.

Alright, I've kept you too long. I can't wait for the baseball championship series to start. Can you believe there still are 12,000 seats available for game one at the BOB? Come on, people, your team is one of four left in the playoffs! Get out there and support them. If I could get there, I would so buy a ticket. But I'm in Florida, not Arizona, so I don't think it's going to happen. Although what I'm really looking forward to is the Beckett/Sabathia game one of the ALCS. And the Carmona/Schilling game two. OK, even I, the staunchest proponent of national league baseball, have to admit that all of the best teams are in the AL this year, for about the third year in a row. It pains me to say so, but it's true. Sure, the Cards won last year, but were they the best team? Or even one of the four best teams? Absolutely not.

That's it now. Really, I promise.