Merry Christmas!

Physics

Dear Physics,

I hope you're satisfied that you are the lowest overall grade I have ever received throughout my high school career.
Does this make me feel a bit like a failure? Perhaps.
Does this do wonders to my self confidence? In the wrong direction, yes.
I experienced nothing but frustration throughout my acquaintance with yourself, and I do not regret that this class will be ending soon.
It's not you, it's the class itself. The teacher, the lack of organization, the typos that caused me to feel confusion and vexation. I'm sorry I can't help but associate you with the class; do forgive me.
I wish future students a better experience than my own.

Yours etc.,

Me

Spiraling Downward

Have you ever felt like you were losing grip, not with life or reality or sanity, but with someone close to you? Sometimes I don't know what to say, and then I worry too much about what I should say, and pretty soon having a conversation with someone becomes a nightmare, this frightening task I dread and avoid.

Lately I don't know what to say to this one person. I try to say things, but I get the feeling they're not entirely....there. Most of the time my life isn't wildly exciting, hence I don't have anything outrageous to tell. I know that they have a life and they don't always have time to sit down and just talk to me. I'm sure they're busy with important things, I can take that. But at the same time, I'm saddened that it's been too long: too long since I saw you, too long since I actually talked to you.

Slowly, despite my feeble attempts, I feel as if I'm drifting away in a lonely raft built for one, and I can't seem to prevent it.

The Battle in My Head

I've been thinking a lot lately about anthropology. Once upon a time, when I was younger, I wanted to be an anthropologist. An even longer time ago, during my brief stint as a child, I wanted to be a horse trainer. Well, I grew up and realized that I had other interests than simply horses, and discovered anthropology. Actually I'm pretty sure quiz bowl came first, but anyway.

What happened? When did I decide anthropology wasn't the right field for me? When did I set that aside and let this concept of curatorial work consume my future career goals?

...I don't know.

It seems as if moving back to the South has sparked this inner anthropologist within. I frequently note trends that differ from the North and I'm constantly thinking "why?" (Mrs. APEuro would be proud.)
Why does school seem to not be as big a factor?
Why do so many people love football?
Why are boyfriend/girlfriend relationships so rampant down here, like the plague in Florence during the fourteenth century?
Why are there so many churches?
Why does there seem to be almost no separation between church and state?
Why does my school tell me to stand and say the pledge of allegiance every morning?
Why is everything so laid back? 

Most of these questions are easily answered. (Such as, you're in the Bible Belt, Emmeline, of course the boundary between church and state is hazy.) But I keep asking why, why, why. I can't seem to trace the genesis of many of my questions; the list of whys seem to continue infinitely.

And then I start thinking. Do I really want to major in art history? Why not anthropology?
And then I shove that creeping whisper of doubt into the back of my mind, hoping I'll just forget about it.