Before I took this English Comp class this summer at college, i loved english to death. I thought i'd love it even more here.
But, i have come to the conclusion that i loath it. with a passion.
my teacher, Mrs. Weaver, is a cow. I'm serious. I asked her if my essay yesterday was good enough, that i'd kept with the type of style she'd asked for. she said my essay was too long and incorrect. so, i fixed it. when i came back today, she said it was still wrong, and way way too long.
There is no fucking way i can shorten it. it's just not possible.
And i wish she'd make up her fucking mind...she said she didn't say long, she'd said wrong. I'm right about what i'd heard.
I hate her. I really do.
this class i'm in is causeing me to get a B. Not good. Not good at all. I need that A. It really important that I get that A. I'm working as hard as I can, I swear it.
There's just no making that bitch happy.
Guess I'll be coming home with yet another B. then get lectured at by my parents for not working hard enough.

I'm not having a very good week so far. Even the weather is going along with my additude. Dark, cold, and rainy. No silverlining in sight.

I can't wait until this semisters over with.

I read this somewhere, but cannot find where it was...for all my searching, i never found it. Here is what I can remember of it.

A teenage girl was sitting with her mother. She must have had a sad look on her face because he mother asked what was wrong.
"Why is it, mom, that all the popular girls at school always get the cat-calls and wolf-whistles from all the really hot guys, but then, someone like me never gets looked at?" the girl asked.
Her mother looked at her and smiled. She took her baby and held her in a tight hug. It made the girl smile a bit.
"Baby girl," the mother said, "My grandma once told me this very same thing when I was your age: 'Girls are like the apples in an apple tree. The most beautiful of all the rest is at the very top of that tree. While the lesser of the fruit are at the bottom. They may look good, but they aren't.
'You see, guys want the ones at the top, but are afraid to climb that high to get to them. They are afraid they'll fall. So, they go for the lower branches.
'And the most beautiful apples stay at the top until one day, a guy is brave enough to climb to the top and pick them.'
"One day soon, Baby girl, there will be a guy who will, instead of cat-call, and wolf-whistle you, hold your hand in front of his friends and family and never blush. He will love you for who you are and think you are the most beautiful girl he has ever laid eyes on. He will call you his girl, forever, and never let you go."

"FOOTPRINTS"
One night a man had a dream.
He dreamed he was walking with the LORD.
Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.
For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand;one belonged to him, and the other to the LORD.

When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand.
He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints.
He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest parts in his life.


This really bothered him and he questioned the LORD about it.
"LORD, you said that once i decided to follow you, you'd walk with me the all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when i needed you most you would leave me."


The LORD replied,
"My precious, precious child, i love you and would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you only see one set of footprints, it was then that i carried you.