I’m principal viola.
I’m the only viola.
Not that I really worry about being all alone, because I know that I can learn the music and then force some sound out of my instrument, but I have a feeling that they’re going to recruit from every viola teacher there and give my chair to someone who’s been playing violin for 6 years and then decided to transfer to viola because someone told them to and therefore has infinitely superior technique/sound. [wow, what a sentence.] I’m passive-self-pitying-competitive, I guess.
My GPA, as it stands, is somewhere (0, 2.5]. I’m doing mediocre (but still in the A range) in math and science, but my..liberal arts? are a different story. I have a B? in history; I take responsibility for that–it was completely my fault. I feel that I can bring it up–I like the class. However, I wrote a horrifically rambling, poorly organized essay for Dr. Liberman today. Usually, essays are difficult in that I can’t get my thoughts into words, but this time, I had no idea what to think. It was not a difficult prompt; rather, I didn’t process it well.
The essay is damning in two ways: 1. Bad impression. Indelible. 2. Dr. Liberman, good teacher as she is, is not scared of failing people. A B or B- can be raised. [I did that last year in Precalc.] An F is difficult, particularly in her class.
Dr. Liberman also says that she rewards good rewrites. Maybe that also means that she rewards improvement? Or an attempt at a spectacular take-home essay. Or maybe I’ll get a D next time, and continue linearly.
Dwee got picked for jury duty. :D That’s funny.