09/22/2003 - 11:19 a.m. | my eyes don�t show nothin�

�And the second hand's the first thing that you see when you wake up
It rolls by in slow motion, and you rub it for good luck�

Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I see a beaten man. Now, I know for a fact that I am not actually beaten; I�m actually quite capable when it comes to a lot of things. I have fair success at lots of stuff, and I tend to adapt fairly quickly to solve problems. I try to learn from my lessons even if it not always necessarily the case. I�m sharp enough. I just sometimes don�t look like I am. There�s a certain fierceness my eyes seem to lack. I don�t know if that�s a good thing or a bad thing.

Anyway, two wicked pitches today. The first came as I stepped outside to go to journalism. No bike. Not thieves, of course. Hunsinger has this policy where on certain days (today, for instance) they clear out any bike in the racks that doesn�t have a sign saying it belongs to someone in the apartment building. I forget that some people function before 10 a.m., so I kinda neglected to leave a sign or move my bike (and it was raining last night, so I figured a sign would be useless). Anyway, as I made the trek to class (on time at least!), I called and straightened the thing out� minus bike lock. So, upon purchasing a new one, that�ll be � $45 in bike locks for a bike that cost $11. This makes loads of sense. Stupid emotional attachment.

Second came after journalism lecture. We had a guest speaker today, so the whole thing was a lot more cohesive� if not particularly enjoyable. Anyway, we got the drafts of our news articles back. I got reamed. If there is one definite flaw to writing how I think (and vice versa), it�s that formality does not come immediately. I let a little too much of Nate into everything, even what is supposed to be a fairly serious news article. Anyway, I am awash in a sea of red that I think I am going to work on fixing now because it puts a knot in my stomach. So self-critical.

Update, because nothing can work out entirely well: 1) My bike seat is sort of broken... or more shock-absorbent, if you have a positive outlook on things. 2) Our rewrites don't replace the previous cruddy journalism grade; they are merely averaged in with it. Arg. At least I'm learning.