![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xaara"Colleging" is now an official word within my group of friends. We're all unwilling to call it "college searching" because none of us wants to search for a college, so colleging it is. And what a word! From it, we can assume there is an infinitive (to college) and all sorts of variations of the past tense (I colleged, you colleged, he/she colleged), present tense (I college, you college, he/she colleges), and future tense (I will college, you will college, he/she will college). Then we can go into even further variations, like I'm all colleged out. Personally, I think we have too much time on our hands.
Other than the invention of a new verb to fit a need that all high school students have, nothing of interest really happened today. I had a less-than-stellar softball practice, mostly because I played center field, where I *ahem* suck. I can't catch fly balls for the life of me. Short pops to the infield, sure. Line drives, sure. But give me one of those big curving loopy drives that floats out to center and I'm utterly lost. I look like I've never played before.
I need more time to write. I can't seem to find time to do what I want to do. Writing here has helped tremendously, but I still feel constantly rushed, like there's someone pushing me thought each activity to prevent my investing any quality time or emotion. Maybe everyone's like that - I don't know. What I do know is that I have a test to study for and a softball game approaching and a paper to write. Sometimes work is the only certainty in life. Shouldn't there be something bigger, more overreaching?
On the metro the other day a poem started itself in my head, and though I'm not much of a poet, I wrote it down:
Other than the invention of a new verb to fit a need that all high school students have, nothing of interest really happened today. I had a less-than-stellar softball practice, mostly because I played center field, where I *ahem* suck. I can't catch fly balls for the life of me. Short pops to the infield, sure. Line drives, sure. But give me one of those big curving loopy drives that floats out to center and I'm utterly lost. I look like I've never played before.
I need more time to write. I can't seem to find time to do what I want to do. Writing here has helped tremendously, but I still feel constantly rushed, like there's someone pushing me thought each activity to prevent my investing any quality time or emotion. Maybe everyone's like that - I don't know. What I do know is that I have a test to study for and a softball game approaching and a paper to write. Sometimes work is the only certainty in life. Shouldn't there be something bigger, more overreaching?
On the metro the other day a poem started itself in my head, and though I'm not much of a poet, I wrote it down:
Metro
Surreptitiously, someone stares
Dark eyes flitting above a newspaper, a slightly raised eyebrow
Pretending for all the world not to care
Our eyes meet - strangers in a familiar land -
And quickly shift on.
