A few days ago, during another useless English class, Anthony implored us to write in a journal everyday. I struggled to stifle a chuckle (and half a sneer) as Nina quite earnestly asked, "Does xanga count?" But following my esteemed pedagogue's advice, I am here writing--on a blog no less.
I also spent another hour aimlessly browsing the social network of various friends, acquaintances, and nonacquaintances. There is something simultaneously depressing and amusing when someone starts every xanga entry with a variation of "Wow, I haven't posted for a long time." Then why do you bother? I am wary of the measure of dishonesty that arises when a personal blog becomes just another mask we present to the world.
I also think I am an idiot for being so scared to ask for recommendations. Any steely resolve just melts into a puddle of goo when the minute comes to actually asking. Unless I want to feel like an idiot for the rest of my life, I will do it tomorrow. No more idiotic cowardice. Okay.
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