Tag Archives: english

And I took the One Less Traveled by/ And That Has Made All the Difference.

Oh Internet. We haven’t talked in a while, and that is entirely my fault. I mean, I AM the one who writes this thing, but whatever, go with it. Can I complain for  a moment? I know, I know. I’m here for witty stories and insane exaggerations that make you smile, but you have no idea how hellish this semester has been for me. I am someone who LOVES, LOVES, LOVES school and I wake up every morning and ask myself, why? Why did I pick this stupid career choice, why did I choose this British Lit class? Why did I choose to take French?

I chose to be an English teacher because I was so influenced by my high school English teacher. I can only hope to be as half as amazing and influential as she was. I chose that particular British Lit class because it was taught by a man named James Dean. That is the LAST time I ever choose a class based on a professor’s name. NEVER AGAIN. And yes, I wanted to learn French.

Yes, I am technically bilingual now (side note: how exciting is that?!?!?) but French this year has been one humiliating event right after the other. And when I say humiliating, I am not exaggerating in the slightest bit. My professor has made me cry in class, and I’ve had various people come up to me and tell me they don’t think the professor likes me. At all. And he doesn’t! I may call him a douche and complain about him, but in class, for those fifty minutes every Monday through Thursday I am respectful. I (attempt to) answer every question, I (sometimes) volunteer to read from the text book, and I am very… cordial. I’m not going to go out of my way to be extremely nice to a man who when I asked him a question about future tense conjugations he looked at me and said, “Come on. This isn’t that difficult.” Maybe not when FRENCH IS YOUR F***ING NATIVE LANGUAGE YOU PRICK!

Let’s all take a deep, calming breath. Onto psychology. Now, overall I don’t mind that class. The subject is interesting, my professor is nice, it is all well and good. At the beginning of the semester we were placed in groups, at random. My group is very, very nice. I like them! We sit at the same round table every day, in the same seats, and I just so happen to sit across from a guy with perfect teeth. (In case you don’t know this about me, I have this thing about perfect teeth. Yes, I do get told on a daily basis how weird I am. I’m okay with that.) Anyway, at the end of the semester my group has to do a microteaching. For non-education majors, a microteaching is a forty minute lesson taught to the rest of our psychology class. The topic was ours to choose. At our particular table we have three history majors, a science major, and an English major (me!). We are all education majors, hence the microteaching. SO we decided to do a lesson on “Losers in History” and we would talk about the losers of major wars, what they did wrong, etc. We presented the lesson to our professor and she told us we had to incorporate EVERYONE’S majors into the lesson. So we changed our topic to Harry Potter. I would teach the literature part, the history people would teach about witch hunting and the science person would teach about chemistry and potions. SOUNDS BRILLIANT HUH?

Well last night I got violently ill. I got out of bed this morning, stood up, and fell down. I couldn’t talk, swallow, and my throat felt three times the normal size. I couldn’t think and my head was hurting so badly; basically I thought I was dying. So I skipped my first class. I set my alarm to wake up for my next class and felt SO FREAKING HORRIBLE that I skipped all of my classes, except for French. Why not French? I had an in class writing assignment that I didn’t think my professor would let me make up at a later date because remember, he hates me. So this means I missed psychology.

I get an email about an hour or so ago. Today my group changed our entire lesson plan. And now we are doing the Age of Enlightenment! Ya-freaking-hoo. I’ve not studied the AoE. Sure, I’ve read some texts here and there, but do I actually remember any of this stuff? No. So I am going to have to pour hours of research into this stupid effing project because my group decided to change everything up.

In case I haven’t said it before, I HATE HATE HATE this semester. I don’t think I’m a good writer anymore, I know I’m not good at French, and I know nothing about the AoE. This semester has officially killed my spirit.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

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Homer would be so proud. Maybe.

For my British Lit class we have this thing called a “creative project” which is designed to torture us to get us to fully understand how Chaucer and various other authors wrote such great works like The Canterbury Tales, or Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. My professor gave us four options, and I had no idea what to do for any except number three. So number three it was.

As Chaucer is known for taking previous stories and telling them himself, with a moral attached (basically the ENTIRE Canterbury Tales) I had to take a pre-existing story and put it into metered lines. I also needed a rhyme scheme. The pre-existing story I chose was the excerpt from The Odyssey in which Odysseus must pass the Singing Sirens. The “moral” of my story would be that it isn’t a good idea for anyone to tempt fate as Odysseus does. I would appriciate all comments letting me know what you think; I’m still a little unsure of it.

—————-

And now it is time to tell the tale

Of a single man and his fight so great,

Our hero Odysseus without fail

Struggled and tried, we find, to tempt fate.

By way of the open sea, traveling home

There was the island of Aiaia just offshore,

Odysseus spotted a land shaped dome

Where he must bring the body of Elpenor.

So soon Circê learned of his arrival

That she met Odysseus at her door,

And told him of the many things fatal

That his future journey had in store.

She spoke at length of beautiful girls

Detailing the charm in their haunting cries,

She told his men the power they unfurl

And to plug their ears with wax, looking to

the skies.

If Odysseus must look upon their face

He will surely be bewitched, and so to

A mast on the ship must he be put in place

And bound where he cannot break through.

Odysseus and his men they listened

And began on their long journey back,

When they came upon the Sirens’ island

The men quickly came under attack.

Calm took over as the water became still

The wind suddenly became obsolete,

As Circê’s prophecy began to fulfill

The crew found paddling away no easy feat.

The men tied their leader to the ship’s mast

Plugging the wax in their ears so bravely,

When Odysseus cried to be set free fast

His crew tied him tighter for his own safety.

The beautiful women opened their mouths

Their haunting song ringing loud and clear,

The crew paddled faster towards the South

Careful not to let her words reach their ears.

The women taunted and beckoned and called

Odysseus wanted nothing more than to stay,

The crew tightened their grip and were appalled

Reminding him of family not so far away.

Odysseus screamed and yelled and pleaded

But his crew simply would not oblige,

He roared until he thought himself defeated

He could see the resistance in their eyes.

Finally the Sirens’ island they passed

Odysseus happily headed home,

The crew was sorry they ever trespassed

But glad they did not do so alone.

And so, you see, Odysseus did try

To tempt fate by hearing the Sirens’ song,

But at the end of the tale fortune is sly

For fate was in control all along.

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