The Purpose of Diaries

I have recently discovered the purpose of diaries. It all began when our built-in vaccuum cleaner began to misbehave. There was (apparently) a clog somewhere between the wall by my room and the vaccuum unit (which is below my room). My dad had requested that the cubby holes along my walls be cleared out so he could get in and clear out the piping.

Perhaps some clarification regarding cubbyholes is necessary to visualize the story (which isn't even the main focus of the story, but what do you care anyway?). My room is on top of the garage, and it has a slanted roof. Imagine, if you will, the way you would draw a house as a child with a triangular roof. If you were to take that triangle and put straight lines down the left and right side, effectively making two triangles on each bottom side. Those triangles are the cubby holes. They are long, narrow passages behind my walls, that as children my brother and I used to "live in" and send "mail" back and forth.

Anyway, over the years these cubby holes have become more of storage areas. The left side is devoted to my dad's business stuff, and the vaccuum pipe. We cleared it out to find around 100 3.5 inch floppy disks containing many DOS games, original business files (from 1990), and my diary from 7th grade (1992). It was written in Xywrite. Xywrite, as some of you may know, was pre-word business document software. It was simplistic and archaic. I wondered if my diary was even on the disk.

I brought the diary disk to my computer and slipped it into the slot. The files were in there, but they didn't seem to have extensions. I decided that I would try to open it with word. It opens. I read my diary from 7th grade, and here is where we find out the purpose of diaries.

The purpose of diaries is for one to look back and realize what a fool you were. To read and remember the embarrassing moments, feelings, thoughts, and actions. They are, effectively, to show your growth, and make you wonder "who is that person, and what the hell was I thinking."

None of the romanticism you see in movies occurs. Grandma isn't going to look back at her diary, well up with tears, and say, "Wow little Jenny, I'm so glad I could share this with you." Grandma is going to grab the book, bury it in the backyard, and crawl under a rock.

Mommy, where do dentists come from?

Yesterday, while having my poor innocent jaw drilled on for the third root canal I have endured in my life, I figured out where dentists come from. (Note: my teeth, for those of you who don't know, are like marshmallows... this year, I'm under my average, and have only 3.5 cavaties per year!)

As the titanium rod was lovingly inserted into my now empty root canal, and I looked up at my dentist, it occured to me: You know all those kids who were picked on, bullied, and teased? They are now someones dentist. I don't mean the kids who took it every now and then, I'm talking the Steve Urkel's of your grad class.

They have become sadistic and partially cruel by drilling on peoples teeth with little rotary saws. They perform root canals, they pull teeth, and they drill out decay to fill with metal and other materials. They are someones dentist.

My dentist is a really nice Vietnamese guy, who I generally like. Somehow, by the end of the appointment, I always want to hurt him back. He doesn't do it to me on purpose, I know that. but why must you hurt me so?

I think this all stems from my childhood dentist, Dr. Fell. This m-effer was evil in the worst way. He wasn't gentle with the needle, he wasn't gentle with the drill, and he wasn't good with children. My soft teeth were destroyed by his cruel, fumbling hands. He was definately bullied. And whats with the name? It even sounds like a dentists name. As you can see, it is easy to pick on the dentist, because the dentist was the picked on one. Now he is picking your pocket with his fees, and causing you pain and discomfort for the years of pain they suffered... they are now sadists.

It's my birthday tomorrow. This makes me unhappy. I will be old. One quarter of a century. I remember when turning a decade was big, two decades? that was scary... but one quarter century and five years to thirty? I think I will go into hiding for a little while. I mean, I know its not old, but it sure feels that way now. Time flies when your having fun (or exponentially in proportion to age, it seems).

I hope all is well in your world.

SMARTass

As I sat down to my computer this morning to begin writing my economics paper (that is due next week), I realized I had no idea how to write an economics paper. Do you write it like an essay? Do you write it like a business plan? Should you indent your paragraphs? Questions flew through my mind at an impossible rate. My professor, of course, provided no guidance in the effort.

"15 pages maximum, 12 point font, 1" margins, double spaced, make sure you cover everything."

Hmmmm. Thank you so much for the guidance. I fly through a SMART analysis hoping that will help. SMART analysis is a tool I recently learned in my applied communications class. It stands for "Situation, Message, Audience, Response, Tools"

Situation: must apply economic principles to Inspect International. Message: I know what I'm talking about when it comes to economic principles. Audience: Professor. Response: Wow! She's smart! She gets an A! Tools: Some sort of organized paper.

Hmmm. Well, good to know the SMART analysis helped. So I google "econmics paper writing tips" thinking that maybe that would provide me with guidance. Of course two sources of information were reasonably helpful, but generally not. They say such helpfully vague things as "Be critical, arguments should be substantiated and logical..."

Yeah, sure, but how do you format? What categories do you want? What tone am I looking for?

It seems to me that this class (communications) has ruined my life. I can no longer aimlessly and thoughtlessly write my thoughts out in a paper and then make them concise (except, of course on my blog :P). I spend half the morning pondering the best way to present my information. This isn't to say that I didn't do this before - it is to say that it wasn't a cognitive decision making process prior to paper writing.

I don't know if I am miserable or thrilled. Quality of papers increase with time spent pondering them. The correlation is undeniable. My grades better increase with the quality and time spent or I'm going to be miffed. The problem is, that it's unlikely to occur that way. 80% of professors have no idea what goes into a well-designed, well-written paper consists of... they just want 12 point font, double spaced, one inch margins, no graphics.