Weak thesis post

Ten minutes to go. I thought I’d get through this class– I was really trying to behave. No matter how much I attempt to distract myself or focus in here, though, it’s impossible.

Since class started, I have:
– been on facebook
– (twice)
– tweeted about how much I don’t want to be here
– read a nifty blog
– kind of paid attention
– typed out a half-page of half-developed notes
– saw that David was also on facebook and mentally applauded him
– learned that my professor really does hold true to the belief that musicians can’t write coherent essays
– pretended that me, blogging, is actually me, taking notes
– checked wordpress stats
– learned that Lalime is signed with the Sabres for one more year (courtesy of Sabres.com)
– talked to Julie about taking a nap in the piano
– wished fervently for caffeine.

It’s ironic that we’re (she’s) discussing brevity right now. “If it’s not concise, it can be distracting.” What an outlandish concept.

Uhg. I honestly don’t even have the energy anymore to bitch about this class. It’s just tiring/not worth it.

And so instead of ranting angrily about the review of the my essay that was just returned, I have this to say.

I’m grateful for brutal feedback. I’m grateful for three hours a week I spend wasting in that dull room surfing the web and pretending to pay attention. I’m grateful for the fact I can relax and sit and take a little time away from the constant motion.

I’m most grateful for the happiness I’ll feel once this semester wraps up.

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I’ll give you a statement

I hate this class.

I’m sitting here with my head spinning from lack of caffeine and wondering why anyone would want to read an academic paper in the first place, especially when the action is supported by an FML-laden, “I’m going to read your essays whether they’re brilliant… or total pieces of garbage, because I’m paid to do that.” Thanks, Professor. Now go get a job you actually want to do so I don’t have to sit here listening to you. Every word chafes, acidic little scrapes that say to me, “Just because you’re musicians, you’re not above manipulating the English language… but because you are musicians, I’m going to assume you don’t know anything about language, as well.”

Clearly we’re just stupid music geeks with superiority complexes. And obviously the reason I hate this class is my predilection to assume I’m too good to write, especially because I think I know everything but REALLY lack all knowledge whatsoever about essay composition and/or snagging myself an audience that actively reads.

Maybe I’m just a bitch this morning, maybe… maybe… shit, I don’t know. This is just so pointless. “You need to make your reader interested.” Check. Readers usually engage because in anything I write, I usually make sure I know what the hell I’m talking about first.

“Your thesis is your point.” Okay. We all know this. If anyone was not aware, they can take this hellish course instead.  I’m sick of this. I’m sick of sitting here having the theses of each classmate ripped apart in front of me. I’d rather not destroy others’ writing. I like writing. I don’t like critiquing my classmates’. It makes me uncomfortable. And According to Azzara, a classroom setting should not be threatening or intimidating. My thesis was just up on the screen, and although it’s anonymous, it’s like, come on. My tone was addressed, and apparently theses need a great deal of specificity. Whatever. It obviously doesn’t matter what I think or how I write, because I’m not educated and need the topic of thesis statements plowed into the ground until it’s just a slimy pathetic puddle whimpering on the pavement.

“You need to set up and explain the problem and then provide a resolution.” Here’s a resolution, then, or we might call it a revelation. Perhaps one should be able to notice when the majority of one’s class is b0red to tears (this ten person class is 40% Asian,  50% female, and the other boys are clever, despite always being late). One should also be able to engage the class in a pleasant manner. Also, it’s freakin’ critical that one have the ability to note and somehow proactively address significant lack of interest. Here’s a headline: NO ONE CARES, Because Everyone in this Class Already Knows About and/or Can Do What is Being Discussed.

“How does this help you with your paper?”

Well, it doesn’t. I’m not writing a paper right now. I’m blogging, and I’m pissed that an hour of my day is glommed away by this utterly pointless course. If we’re required to take a mandatory writing course, can’t we at least be offered courses that aren’t booby-trapped? Like, you should pick this one, it looks vaguely interesting, but you’ll really spend your first semester wanting to beat your head against the desk in front of you in the fruitless hope that you’ll forget the hours of torture incurred three times a week at 8:30 in the morning.

So, yeah. Just in case it wasn’t clearly outlined, I’ll reiterate: I freakin’ hate this class.

Yeah. No thanks.