An Honesty Overdose. And Also Communism.
I'm bored.
I feel like I've been doing this college thing so long, even my procrastinating skills are starting to wane. A month or two ago I would have at least been able to justify the creation of a new blog entry with some sort of amusing story or witty insight. But today, I can't summon the strength to put off homework with finesse. The truth is, I'm only here because I would rather watch useless babble appear on my computer screen than face Mark Twain again. There. I've told you all the straight truth. I have nothing of real value to contribute to any of your lives and I'm not pretending anymore.
And as long as we're being honest, yeah. Maybe I am jealous of Hilary Duff. And maybe I enjoyed Bring it On more than a little bit. And maybe I do have all the words to "Dancing Queen" memorized. And maybe some part of me still wishes I were Pocahontas and could paint with all the colors of the wind. And maybe I really love Dawson's Creek. Like, not just "enjoy" or "find mildly amusing". Love.
Sorry, was that too personal? I didn't mean for it to get so intense. At least now there are no secrets between us. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. If you decide to continue speaking to me knowing all you do at this point, both of us can rest assured that you are truly accepting me for who I am.
And presently, because you deserve a reward for taking that little cathartic journey with me, and because my homework is still repelling me with magnificent force, I'll regale you with a classic story of awkwardness on the Plains. ("awkwardness on the Plains" is sort of like "Little House on the Prairie" only less about hugs and happiness and more about self-loathing and terror.) Most of you have probably heard it already, but I want to commit it to writing for the sake of posterity:
Once upon a time, I was at a meeting for the Ecumenical Advocacy team here at Augustana, and we were talking about our plans to travel to Washington D.C. At the time, the Northwestern Airline strike was happening. We discussed it for a while because some were worried it might affect our flight. At one rather quiet point in the conversation I forgot a little bit that I was at Augustana College in South Dakota and said with a straight face,
"Stupid communists."
My comment was followed by an audible gasp and uncomfortable silence.
"Um...just kidding?"
I'm either really misunderstood or kind of a jerk. What do you guys think?
OK. I'm ready to be done clumsily stalling now. Bring it, Twain.
I feel like I've been doing this college thing so long, even my procrastinating skills are starting to wane. A month or two ago I would have at least been able to justify the creation of a new blog entry with some sort of amusing story or witty insight. But today, I can't summon the strength to put off homework with finesse. The truth is, I'm only here because I would rather watch useless babble appear on my computer screen than face Mark Twain again. There. I've told you all the straight truth. I have nothing of real value to contribute to any of your lives and I'm not pretending anymore.
And as long as we're being honest, yeah. Maybe I am jealous of Hilary Duff. And maybe I enjoyed Bring it On more than a little bit. And maybe I do have all the words to "Dancing Queen" memorized. And maybe some part of me still wishes I were Pocahontas and could paint with all the colors of the wind. And maybe I really love Dawson's Creek. Like, not just "enjoy" or "find mildly amusing". Love.
Sorry, was that too personal? I didn't mean for it to get so intense. At least now there are no secrets between us. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. If you decide to continue speaking to me knowing all you do at this point, both of us can rest assured that you are truly accepting me for who I am.
And presently, because you deserve a reward for taking that little cathartic journey with me, and because my homework is still repelling me with magnificent force, I'll regale you with a classic story of awkwardness on the Plains. ("awkwardness on the Plains" is sort of like "Little House on the Prairie" only less about hugs and happiness and more about self-loathing and terror.) Most of you have probably heard it already, but I want to commit it to writing for the sake of posterity:
Once upon a time, I was at a meeting for the Ecumenical Advocacy team here at Augustana, and we were talking about our plans to travel to Washington D.C. At the time, the Northwestern Airline strike was happening. We discussed it for a while because some were worried it might affect our flight. At one rather quiet point in the conversation I forgot a little bit that I was at Augustana College in South Dakota and said with a straight face,
"Stupid communists."
My comment was followed by an audible gasp and uncomfortable silence.
"Um...just kidding?"
I'm either really misunderstood or kind of a jerk. What do you guys think?
OK. I'm ready to be done clumsily stalling now. Bring it, Twain.
posted by Caitlin at 2:34 PM
5 Comments:
Oh my dear, you brighten my dark a dreary coma-inducing night... ahh, wilderness... I DO love that communist story... Tell me, to what to degree is your love of Dawson's Creek... weekly visits to the Creek or daily? This will aid in my decision whether or not to talk to you again... continue on with the awkwardness, Sellnow... it suits you.
caitlin, your honesty truly amazes me. why must we in this great blogosphere pretend to be bitterly superhuman? i'll tell you why: 'cause we're bitter superhumans who kick ASS, that's why.
can't wait to see you!
Caitlin i'll be honest in return: i find it increasingly difficult to be friends with someone of such false consciousness. break out of your mundane proletariat existance and JOIN THE REVOLUTION!!!!!!!
Remember that one time you went to DC the ONE WEEKEND I wasn't there? Hmmm?
Jerk.
You write with heart and with feeling and you write so well!
Great blog!
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