Me, Truth, Marshmallow and Satan
Woa, sorry guys. I dropped off the face of the planet there for a little while. I was busy investigating the meaning of truth. But, now I'm back and I am here to tell of my adventures into the depths of good, evil and man's purpose in the universe.
Or not really. If, over the past week, I came across absolute truth, it was in the tiny little footnotes at the bottom of my gazillion page religion book and I missed it. Who has time for the mysteries of the universe when they're trying to write an English paper worthy of a check-plus, and study for a religion test that can't be studied for? Who has time for footnotes? Not I.
On Friday I took the first test of my collge carreer. The first part was a five-to-six page essay we were given two nights to complete. The second part, administered in a sixty minute class, consisted of ten essay questions. I looked at the test and figured, after doing some quick calculations in my math friendly brain, that I had ten minutes for each question. Because sixty divided by ten equals...um...ten. (Seriously guys. In high school did you ever look at me and wonder how I, with so many obvious mental handicaps, could autonamously accomplish simple tasks like getting dressed in the morning? and being literate?) Needless to say, I was mistaken. Not that it really mattered because I spent fifteen minutes on the first question anyway. As the test continued and sixty minutes flew by, the answers to my questions got progressively worse. The answer to number one began something like: "Well, in order to discuss what relevance Adam and Eve have to our daily lives, I must first discuss the nature of truth. I shall address this subject in three parts..." My answer to question number ten went something like: "Well, Babel is like, humans keep trying to build a tower to heaven. By themselves. But they can't." Somehow, I don't think my professor's comments will include: "The depth of the simplicity here astounds me on many levels. A+ for you!"
Maybe I would have been better off at some hippy school where the administration doesn't believe in tests because its mission is to teach students how to have A+ souls. Or not. If anyone could fail at a mission like that, It'd be me.
Oh well, that's life I guess. Coincidentaly, my test ends with those very words. In other news, I was home this weekend and my dog has hair! Yeah, I know. It's a medical miriacle. Either that, or Marshmallow sold his soul to Satan in exchange for beauty in his old age. Either way, he's lookin' good.
Or not really. If, over the past week, I came across absolute truth, it was in the tiny little footnotes at the bottom of my gazillion page religion book and I missed it. Who has time for the mysteries of the universe when they're trying to write an English paper worthy of a check-plus, and study for a religion test that can't be studied for? Who has time for footnotes? Not I.
On Friday I took the first test of my collge carreer. The first part was a five-to-six page essay we were given two nights to complete. The second part, administered in a sixty minute class, consisted of ten essay questions. I looked at the test and figured, after doing some quick calculations in my math friendly brain, that I had ten minutes for each question. Because sixty divided by ten equals...um...ten. (Seriously guys. In high school did you ever look at me and wonder how I, with so many obvious mental handicaps, could autonamously accomplish simple tasks like getting dressed in the morning? and being literate?) Needless to say, I was mistaken. Not that it really mattered because I spent fifteen minutes on the first question anyway. As the test continued and sixty minutes flew by, the answers to my questions got progressively worse. The answer to number one began something like: "Well, in order to discuss what relevance Adam and Eve have to our daily lives, I must first discuss the nature of truth. I shall address this subject in three parts..." My answer to question number ten went something like: "Well, Babel is like, humans keep trying to build a tower to heaven. By themselves. But they can't." Somehow, I don't think my professor's comments will include: "The depth of the simplicity here astounds me on many levels. A+ for you!"
Maybe I would have been better off at some hippy school where the administration doesn't believe in tests because its mission is to teach students how to have A+ souls. Or not. If anyone could fail at a mission like that, It'd be me.
Oh well, that's life I guess. Coincidentaly, my test ends with those very words. In other news, I was home this weekend and my dog has hair! Yeah, I know. It's a medical miriacle. Either that, or Marshmallow sold his soul to Satan in exchange for beauty in his old age. Either way, he's lookin' good.
posted by Caitlin at 7:00 AM
4 Comments:
First of all, 7am is an ungodly hour to be awake, no matter how much religion you're getting.
Secondly, MARSHMALLOW HAS HAIR? This calls for an explanation! I feel the foundation of my entire high school career sinking beneath me!!!!!!
i agree with kristina! marshmallow must be involved in some devilish dealings.
i have my first chemistry midterm in about 60 minutes. pray for my A+ soul.
Hahah, college tests. Hahah, Marshmallow has hair. Hahah, your soul.
yay for religion class!
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