Okay, so the news. Hmmm. Blank.
Wait! I know! Guess what I got on my first English paper?
No, just guess.
Whatever you just said? Wrong.
I got a 60. As one friend said when I told her that,
"You mean...out of sixty?"
No, no I do not.
I mean out of ONE HUNDRED.
Naturally, my first reaction was that all that stuff in my head like my brain and cerebral cortex and sinuses and even that tiny, sweaty exhausted hamster up there wearing a pink tiara and racing endlessly on a rhinestone studded exercise wheel? All that immediately melted into what felt like a big vat of boiling MacDonald's french fry grease. (And I know of whence I speak. MacD's grease is HOT.) It boiled around up there for, oh I don't know, about a minute or two. Until tiny wisps of smoke began to leak out each ear, certainly.
But then? Come to think of it, all of a sudden, then I realized the whole situation was actually sort of funny. (Refer to the "this blog is written on a college level" button at the bottom left of this page for additional yuks.)
Ironically, earlier on the very same day I learned of my "60%" fate, I had spoken to, let's just call it a kind of major publication in the area about their interest in me for a possible regular writing assignment. Yesterday, I learned a grant application I had written on behalf of my employer to the National Parks Service had been funded. As you may or may not know, I write a short piece for the local newspaper each week. My work sometimes appears here.
Clearly? These people should be notified of my inability to write.
Ahem.
Anyway, the good news is that no paper is ever final in my English class. You can keep doing paper(s) over until they are finally met with approval. Much like life. My own offending paper was quickly re-written and resubmitted.
We'll see what happens. Maybe, somehow, I can ultimately rise to a "C"-level.
A girl can dream.
6 comments:
Screw 'em -- and I'm glad you can have a sense of humor about such things. One needs one at times.
My best English professor gave Cs, sometimes Ds, on all of my papers throughout the year. I kept at it with re-writes to get repeated Cs and Ds. At the end of the year he gave me an A for the course.
I learned more from that than anything else.
I hated him by the way.
That reminds me of the story of Fitzgerald who had 125 or so rejection slips before selling his first story. Just remember...those who can, do. Those who can't, teach.
Oh...and those who can't teach, teach gym (so saith sage Woody Allen).
HA...Love that Woody Allen quote!!
I have a present for you if I can find it. How exciting about your REAL writing assignment. Keep us informed.
oh. my. god! are you serious? you are cracking me up. I seriously expect a novel from you when you have time!
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