Return of the L-Jack

It's been a long time. Welcome back. Or perhaps I should be welcoming myself back, since I'm the one who took a... 7 month hiatus. I promise I did at least look at this blog from time to time. I just felt like I was lacking in funny stories to tell. It's taken me a while to figure out that I don't necessarily have to be witty and brilliant all the time. What can I say? I'm slow on the uptake sometimes.

But the thing about being a writer (and an English major) is that there's never truly a lack of things to write about. I should technically be able to come up with something to say about anything. After all, aren't English majors the classic BSers? :P

I always try to argue against that philosophy, referring the skill it takes to construct a sound argument and the attention to detail necessary to make sure people understand where I'm going with a point. But when it comes right down to it, I write all the time about subjects I don't always believe in. How many times have I written a paper pretending to care about a book that secretly I just wanted to rip to shreds because it held no meaning whatsoever for me? Oh, too many to count. But I do anyway, because as long as my professor thinks I care, I'll do well in the class. I'm totally BS-ing.

Or am I? Somehow, no matter how much I hated or didn't get the reading material, I always found myself caring about it by the end. I always care about what I write. Sometimes too much. Example: I had a paper last semester for my British Lit class that was essentially a 4 page research paper. Easy beans, right? Hahahahaha. No. Not if you're me. I received several incredulous looks when I bemoaned the length of the paper. My complaint? It was too short. I needed more space.

Now that's just sick. Who wants more pages in their paper? Me, apparently. Remember that little ditty about being a glutton for punishment? That's what everyone else -- everyone normal -- thinks when they listen to me talk like that. But I honestly did want more space to write that paper. Research, to be done properly, requires adequate space to develop an idea. By the time I'd finished discussing the sources I needed, my paper was done. No room for thoughts of my own. And that drove me nuts.

Only something like that. Of all the things to drive me crazy, it has to be that. It's a good thing my friends and family love me, because I'm kind of nutty. And you know what? I love every minute of it.