So it Goes..

Kurt Vonnegut died. What the F*ck. I got the name of my blog from his book Slaughterhouse-Five.

I was suppose to read slaughterhouse-five in high school but i didn't feel like it and instead read The Bell Jar. The thing with being in AP classes is that you don't really DO anything. For the most part i assume the teachers think you are pretty smart already so what's the point of going over things we already knew. My teacher taught us things for the most part but sometimes she let us do whatever we wanted to do, read whatever we wanted to read, and take much needed lunch breaks.

Towards the end of the semester we had about 5 more books to read from a list she had come up with at the beginning of the semester. Instead of having us all read the same 5 books which would take forever, she allowed the class to split up and read whatever English worthy book we wanted too. Splitting off into groups we separated the books we wanted to read, each group would have to then talk about the book in class, just to summarize it.

Most of the class choose to read Kurt Vonnegut because apparently reading Kurt Vonnegut in high school makes you hot shit or something. But being a dissenter i didn't want to read what every one else was reading and instead choose to read the Bell Jar, which inevitably changed my life.

But after they presented the Vonnegut book to the class i kind of wanted to read it. That was when i was 17. 2 years later during the summer my grandmother died i came across his book randomly at a vintage book store. The cover was torn, the pages worn out, and his named scrawled along the bottom. I spent the rest of the day reading the book, it was weird and funny and sad all at the same time. I usually don't like books that don't follow a proper time line, but i dug Slaughterhouse five, there was something poignant in it's craziness, and plus the damn book had pictures, not a lot but a couple.

One of the pictures was of a gravestone and on the gravestone were the words "Everything was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt". Perhaps it was because i was dealing with my first huge death, maybe it was guilt of a life not quite fulfilling, but something rang with the phrase. That it's sort of bullshit but the truth, sort of sad but honest, there was something lovely in it's facade, something not said until it's too late.

Hence the name of my blog.

So I'm very sad that Kurt died. I have him to thank or blame for all this expression of my emotions.

Anyway.

Today i had my English exam. This is the English class with the incredibly hot teacher but pretty hard material. I must admit that the reason i didn't drop this class was because well...he's really hot. He warned us it was going to be hard, asked us to drop if we weren't committed to actually learning and thinking through theory/history/philosophy but despite his warnings i stayed.

The first couple of weeks i hated it. I hated him. He seemed arrogant, he kept talking about how sucky English was,and him and his damn hotness was driving me insane. Eventually though i began to like him, my school girl crush faded away, and it was replaced by total respect. It's weird i can't have a crush on someone i look up to. If i admire you as a human being, and consider you to be a sort of mentor than i suddenly stop having a crush on you . I think growing up where i didn't really have a lot of people to look up to, i kept the relationship of mentor very strict.

So after a couple of weeks, my crush faded, and i literally began to admire him like an older smarter brother. I mean he's smart, and so sure of himself but not in cocky way. He makes you think about things, instead of assuming them, and he pushes us. So after a while i began to see him in another light, in one that i respected highly, which i rarely do.

I made on a B on the first test which was good because half of the class passed and the other half failed miserably. There were no C's. Just 15 A and B's and 15 D's and F's. So i was happy with my place in the A/B crowd. But for some reason i was absolutely nervous about this test. I mean more than i was for my math or chemistry exam. I studied for this thing so hard, writing and re-writing, having dreams of Theorists like Said and Jameson. I was in a world of simulacra and Queer Theory.

For the past two days i have been emerged in a world of theory lost in signifers and the signified, and even though i was confidant that i knew the material...I was hella nervous. My stomach hurt, my head hurt, my palms were sweating, and i was nervous. I am NEVER nervous about an exam....NEVER(except for Chem). And i realized it was because i was afraid of disappointing him. Even though i don't talk in class, or email him, or whatever...i was personally afraid of disappointing someone i admire. Of not doing as good as i know he believes we can do.

I don't think I've ever had that feeling towards Biology before. INTERESTING REVELATION.

So after all that studying, near heart attack, nervousness, and complete urge to vomit i was so worried about the exam... i think i did okay.

and as i went up to hand him my paper Hot Professor looked me dead in the eyes, laughed and said "Piece of Cake right?"

Yeah. Right. If he only knew.