So, my lit class is themed, and the theme is...you guessed it, memory! haha. My lit teacher is pretty cool- she's like a famous poet or something like that. Not as cool as Minor or Puterbaugh, though...at least not yet.

My assignment for the first class is to write the first page of my autobiography and read 45 pages of Proust's "Swann's Way". The reading was easy enough, but the autobiography thing is making me cringe. Mostly because it has to include a memory from our childhood, and all my memories are crappy ones- like wetting the bed, or throwing up, or freaking out about a dinosaur report because I didn't know how to write it. I have some other odd memories of reading in bed with a flashlight, and playing in the spinklers and the snow and other stuff like that, but nothing seems like characteristic of me. hahaha.

Blah, memory sucks.

Did you giggle as a child? :P

no, not until sophomore year.

memories of childhood?

repression.

WHAT A DEPRIVED CHILD, EVEN I GIGGLED.

When you went to your Grandma's house to bake cookies/other fun stuff.

Well, I giggled a little. But not very much. I started actually giggling sophomore year.

and I ended up writing about this time I hid cough drops in my room and all these ants came in the middle of the night. It wasn't very good, but then again she's only checking it off to see if we completed the assignment, not if we actually know how to write.

I want to get into Chinese Politics, except that there might not be room. Ick. And then I have to take Women and the Law instead with a mean professor. I hate mean profs. Sigh.