le printemps

It means "springtime" in French. Yeah, I used to be pretty good at it about six years ago. I took the language for a total of for years from seventh through tenth grade. It was in ninth grade that my French teacher, Mrs. Flowers, recognized my intellectual talent. I guess she became took an interest because unlike many freshman, who took the first level of foreign language, even if they had taken it previously, I decided to gamble with French II. (Props goes to an awesome student teacher, Mr. Cooper, who actually taught us, back in eighth grade. He later won a teacher-of-the-year award.)

The same cannot be said for Algebra, which I passed in eighth grade, but my teacher eighth grade teacher suggested that I take it again in high school because I only had a B. She made it seem like I was dumb or something for making a B in a high school level course. Hello? I was still in middle school. (yeah, I know, right?) But I took algebra I again, and aced it the second time around. Later I was glad for repeating it, because that meant I didn't have to take Calculus, and only stopped at Pre. I'm not horrible at math, but I'm not a fan of it either. When I got to college I was relieved to find that only one math course was required for my major, but it's been heavily compensated with drawing, art history, and graphic design courses.

But I digress. It's funny how one memory begins a change reaction to other memories.

So anyway, last week was Spring break. I had assignments that I could of and very well should have completed. Sadly, I spent most of the time lounging around, and playing The Sims 2 University Expansion Pack (a really awesome game), which I bought the Thursday before Spring Break started. I don't get the hold decadent spin that the world places on this time of year. Companies advertise to the most financially vulnerable group—college students—to save up and go on an expensive vacation to blow off the steam of university life. "What happens there stays there" is the motto, hardly ever the case though, because the main point of doing exciting, adventurous, regrettable things is that you have a story to tell your friends when you get back. You surely won't be telling your grandchildren of your exploits at Cancun.

. . .

So, I'm currently taking this class called Writing for Mass Media, where we learn how to write for, you guessed it, the mass media, i.e. newspapers, radio, TV. And what I just wrote sounds like the beginning of a pretty good article. My instructor Mrs. Dardeau has been trying to encourage me to submit my work to the newspaper, but I'm not a communication major, I'm just taking the class to fill my "writing across the curriculum" class requirement. Plus, I couldn't really think of anything to write about that people would be interested in. But we've learned that anything can be news if it interesting to you; that means it can be interesting to others, because people are by nature nosy.

Sounds like a plan to me. :)

Soccer Photos

My entire body aches from yesterday's game. But at least we won. ^_^



I'm behind the camera. =)

More photos -->>

Football

Sunday evening I played soccer at the park with a bunch of friends. I haven't physically exerted myself that much in a very long time. After running half way down the field, I was gasping for breath and my chest was burning something quite painful. I imagine it's what a heavy smoker feels like. Honestly, I though I was going to pass out. After a while, though, the drama passed and I was able to focus on the game. My team won, 4-0.

Actually, they started out playing ultimate frisbee, but I just sat on the bench and watched. I didn't play because I have a maimed finger from a scissor accident I had in the darkroom of the photo lab yesterday (You should always remember to cut away from yourself, preferably not in the dark). But after they switched to soccer, I decided to play because it doesn't require the use of your hands. I'll post pics later today.