E.B White once said, and I know this because it was on an admissions application essay:

"Where I would like to discover facts, I find fancy. Where I would like to learn what I did, I learn only what I was thinking. They are loaded with opinion, moral thoughts, quick evaluations, youthful hopes and cares and sorrows. Occasionally, they manage to report something in exquisite honesty and accuracy. That is why I have refrained from burning them."

He was talking about his journals, and though I've often thought the same way about my own journals, tonight I'm applying this to my blogs. I want to delete them, and by them I mean a great many of my old entries.

Last night's is a prime example. Who cares? It's sort of funny, but it's obviously a rant that I only posted to amuse others; I really don't hate smileys enough to have that be all I was thinking about that night, I guess I just felt like I needed to post something.

That happens a lot, and I'm sorry, but, well, that apology is more to myself than to anyone else, because I'm the only person who needs to read this. And while I'm apologizing, I had to find that quote again; I didn't remember exactly how it went, and I certainly didn't recall who wrote it.

There are, however, the accurate moments, when I'm spewing emotions like a raging volcano or waxing philosophical about Legos and Weeble-Wobbles. The kind of stuff I can only write at night, when I'm tired and I just don't care anymore, in the less important ways at least.

Still, most of what I blog is crap, and I'm sick of it. I make a lot of promises to myself, and a lot of ultimatums about each new promise, but this time, this time it's for real. Well, all I can do is try, and I'm going to try to avoid stuff like last night.

Enough metablogging, time for some self-obsessed ranting.

I revised my paper today, the Freshman Studies paper that made me realize how conceited I'd'bn being about my writing, and while the writing is admittedly below par, I've lost a great deal of respect for my professor.

He's biased, you see. The corrections he'd said were self-explanatory were not helpful writing tips, but rather refutations, and unsubstantiated ones at that, against the points I was proving. At one point, after I gave evidence of Frankenstein's inability to beautify his monster despite "infinite pains and care", then explained that subsequent monsters would therefore be just as ugly as the original, he circled my analysis and wrote simply "No!".

I'm not upset, if I'm coming off as upset. I am, after all, an asteroid, cruising through space oblivious to thrust-ships or other asteriods or well-intentioned-yet-nonetheless-narrowminded Economics professors. It's just not a big deal, this paper, but it's been in my mind all day.

I just think it's odd, not even inexplicable-odd but simply interesting-odd, I can't explain why, really, but it's cool to mull over, it feels like a poppyseed muffin that I can play with inside my head. Well, it does.

I had a good weekend, by the way; I relied too much on my roomate and neighbors for enterainment, which is a bad and easy trap to fall into, but now the week is coming so I can figure out what to do.

That's what Monday and Tuesday are always big on; if Sunday is my day to make vows, then on Monday and Tuesday I'm always trying to get my bearings in a new world.

I smoked a clove cigar this weekend and played some racketball, again with Greg and Nick-From-Next-Door, but while it was fun, it's just not at all what I saw myself doing in college on weekends.

I should be sitting in a coffeehouse or something discussing great novels and bad movies with some cynical post-ironic intellectuals, or at least, I don't know, something to that effect.

I guess I was naive. It certainly sounds naive, given the horrible horrible poetry our pseudo-intellectuals write.

Life is better, I guess, when it's different and suprising, but I can't keep doing this forever. Then again, I can't be sure of that; it was fun, and it's sure to grow on me. I just don't know what I want to do. Something, and I guess I'm doing that already.

Later everyone.