That First Amazing Grade

OH YES.

Unrelated: kitten.

Unrelated: kitten.

I love when professors recognize my genius. Seriously. It’s the best validation besides getting a high-five from your dad or your mom or an angel.

My best essays are ironically written in a hasty, half-delirious manner. Whenever I write how you’re “supposed” to write – that is, with multiple drafts and careful editing – the essay always ends up being a dud. What should be a masterpiece turns into something you’d find on the bottom of your shoe after walking around all day.

Starting is always the worst. I tend to clean everything in my room first under the pretense of “not being able to work amidst clutter”. Really, I’m hoping that my professor will be abducted by aliens and that the assignment will be canceled if I wait just a biiit longer before beginning. After I come to terms with the fact that aliens chose to fulfill some other student’s dream of professor-abduction instead of mine, I get to writing. Eventually, I get into my stride and the genius begins a-burnin’.

Not to brag or anything but my professor said my analysis of The Rainbow Fish was really ‘insightful’ and ‘subtle’. Just to remind you, I ended the essay with the words: “each fish is entitled to its own share of sparkle”. I’M SO INSIGHTFUL.

This grade was particularly special to me after my mediocre first grade.

I’m aware that grades really mean nothing. They do not measure intelligence nor do they reflect the value of who you are as a person. (Over-achieving students everywhere:  “WHAAAT?!!!”) That doesn’t mean I’m not going to dance in my socks on my hardwood floors to celebrate. Because I am entitled to my own share of sparkle. Forever and always.

- Daughter

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The Rainbow Fish was a Confederate

WordPress just up and died on me. I can’t access the main site so I have to use my phone to update today. I apologize for the brevity of the post and will serenade you with my regular ramblings tomorrow when WordPress rises like the Lazarus of the Internet.

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Today, I wrote over one thousand words about The Rainbow Fish picture book by Marcus Pfister. You know, the one with the fish with the shiny scales and a bad attitude.

I mention this only because I ended the paper with the most bizarre sentence ever that included the words: “each fish is entitled to its own share of sparkle.” I’m practically Mark Twain. Ok, it makes more sense within the context of the paper but still, what the what?! The only way I could have ended it better is if I just used various emoticons in place of words… :) :/ :( :?

It seems my blog writing habits are in the midst of a coup to wrest power from my academic writing habits who have held my authorial voice hostage for decades. It’s a civil war. And it will be a bloody, ruthless fight. Parody and humor are hacking away at academic seriousness like an ax to a tree.

I hope they can reach an armistice and just agree that we are all entitled to our own share of sparkle regardless of our relation to the Mason-Dixon Line.

- Daughter

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