I read Catcher in the Rye for several hours today.
I then sat down to write an essay for an Ithaca scholarship. The question: describe yourself.
This is what happened.
I'm rather frightened.
I've often been asked what I'm interested in. I usually respond with a few random interests: music, history, politics, literature. The truth is, I'm interested in almost everything. I really am. I love to learn. It sounds somewhat cliché, but it's true. You should see me in Latin class, you really should. Magistra Olsen will mention Spartacus, and I can't even focus until she's told the whole goddam story about him, about all the dead slaves hanging from trees on the highway, the whole goddam gruesome deal. Or in calculus, I hate calculus, but I get so into it. I hate it when people try to talk to me when I'm in the middle of a calculus problem. I mean, when I'm sitting there, working on a problem, I really hate when people try to butt in and talk to me. It's awful. I end up going off on them, like they were trying to distract me on purpose, when all they really wanted was a pencil or something. It just makes me feel so goddman awful when I do that. It really does.
ramblings of a semester untold, III
6 years ago