So, I totally just realized that I used the word pursue instead of pursuit in my last post. WHO GOT KICKED OUT OF THE U of U ENGLISH PROGRAM? That's right. This girl! Now, it wasn't due to bad grammar, horrific writing or appalling spelling. Nope. I may or may not have written an essay that may or may not have angered my professor. Ok, yes I did.
Back in 2003, I was, temporarily, an English major at the U. I was in one of my many English classes and we were supposed to analyze several poems. I have several pet peeves in this world, and one of the big ones is analyzing poetry. How dare you take a poem, written many years ago, or maybe more recently, analyze it and decide that the author meant by this expression of their soul. YOU DON'T KNOW! Don't tell me to analyze something and expect me to regurgitate your thoughts. My favorite story about this sort of thing comes from the diary of Walt Whitman. One day, he read in the local newspaper that a renowned professor was going to be giving a lecture on Walt's poetry at the local university. Interested to see what this man had to say, he decided to attend the lecture.
He sat in the back of the room and listened while this scholar proceeded to give his take on what he thought the author meant by these poems. At one point in the evening, Walt could not take it any longer. This professor was telling the audience that a certain poem had a certain meaning and that this is what the author was thinking at the time he wrote it. Walt rose his hand and said "I don't think you have this meaning correct, sir." But the professor again tried to convince the poet that this is definitely what the author meant. Once again, the poet said out loud "No sir, I think you are mistaken. I can tell you that this is not what the poet meant by this poem." Being agitated, the professor said "Then sir? Why don't you tell the audience what the poem means?" The poet stood and gave a very detailed and beautiful explanation of the certain piece of literature. When he was done, the professor, feeling that he had been slightly defeated, asked "How would you know what this means? Have you studied the works of this poet? Do you have any sort of real education? What makes you so sure that this was the meaning behind the poet's work?" And with a grin, Walt Whitman came forward and introduced himself to the professor. The lecture ended and the professor never came back to the college.
So, I used this example in an essay we were supposed to write about the meaning of certain poems. My professor didn't want to know my thoughts. All she wanted was for me to repeat what she had told us. So instead of proceeding to spit her words back at her, I wrote an essay about why I felt that analyzing poetry was useless and a waste of time. I gave strong points, the main one being that unless the poet themselves have said what the poem meant, we had no business in criticizing their work. About a week later, I was asked to stay after class. My professor told me that my writing was adequate and my formatting was good, but that my topic was not was assigned. At that point, I will neither confirm nor deny that I may have told her, in so many words, to shove it where the sun wouldn't be able to shine. The next week I got called in the the department head's office. Little did I know that the department head was also my professor's husband. (They didn't have the same last name.) I was told to find another program and to not come back. And I didn't.
Over the last few weeks, I have learned that there are certain people out there who don't like me. And there are many reasons why they don't like me, but the main one is that they feel threatened by me. I have had some incidences at work this past week where this was the case. So let me just say I DON'T WANT YOUR JOB! I AM NOT GOING TO TAKE IT. BACK OFF!!! Yeah... and these are grown women, mind you, who are going to HR and complaining that I am gossiping about them behind their backs. YEAH...I KNOW...last I checked, I left high school and even graduated from college. I don't have time to talk about people or to spread rumors. I actually go to work...and work. I know, it's a crazy idea, but it does happen. It just irks me because people won't grow up and ask me if anything they hear is true. Which it isn't. But whatever. What a joke. But I will move on...and if I get disrupted from doing my job again because someone is tattle-tailing on something that they assume must have happened, I will get that much more upset and start stabbing jaws. I know, I was just getting pass that phase.
Anyway...moving one. I guess the point is, not everyone is going to like you all the time. But as long as you can look back at the end of the day and feel like you are square with God and that you have done your best, than those haters can go to Hell. Just saying.
So I don't have a new purse photo to post...I've been too busy and too poor to go shopping. But no worries, I will have some more pictures soon. We'll see what the budget will allow. But I would like to end this post with a little prayer that my Facebook buddies are used to seeing. It is one in the series known as "Dear Lord":
Dear Lord,
We are thankful that we have survived another day. We are thankful for the little miracles that present themselves in our lives on a daily basis. We are also thankful for ibuprofen, pop corn and, as always, Diet Coke. Please help us to continue through the week with patience and love for your other children, for we do not want to end up in jail like Lindsay Lohan for harming another. And please let the diet coke machine be full tomorrow. Amen.
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