A WHAT Kind of Journal?

It was one of those days in English class when you just kind of do a double-take at the assignment projected on the screen. This assignment is due on the 10th of March and it has something to do with Beloved and writing, and it's something called a Dialectic Journal. I have earthly idea what the construction of a "Dialectic Journal" entails. Probably reading the book, and writing something about what I read in the book, and something to do with analysis and response. It doesn't seem that hard...right? Famous last words. There is only so much crap you can pull out of your butt. (But if it's organized crap it's okay!) So here I sit, slaving away (again) on something I have no idea about. Wish me luck.

P.S.
-Why do they always give the weird books the Nobel Prizes. Why not Anne of Green Gables, or The Lord of the Rings? Why the boring and confusing ones?

So you have a problem? Well, so do I, and so does everyone else on this planet. But to tell you the truth. At this point in time I really don't care. I'm serious. I don't. Today is a Wednesday. Usually I would have attended my church's youth group, Thirst. On this particular Wednesday I did not, I had homework, but c'est la vie. My good friend informed me that we had student testimony night, and instead of having one or two people talk a whole bunch of random people got up and talked. Now, no offence to any of these people, but really I don't care about their lives and about their problems (which is what those kind of things always turn out to be, especially in my youth group). Everyone gets up there and groans and complains about their own petty problems (don't get me wrong, I do it too, in fact, I'm know as one of the biggest whiners in my (rather limited) circle of friends) and struggles to find some hidden meaning in it all. But we all do it, there must be a release for all of the pent up nonsense that floats in the human brain. So, here's to venting (even if it is into a microphone in front of 50 people you don't know).