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Great, fabulous, wonderful news! Kids, Kids!!! Pigskin, my little brother, got into the post-bac program at Howard University!! How awesome is that?!
I am so, so proud. He's worked hard, ya'll. You don't even know. I mean, he aced O-Chem of all things. I am severely impressed. He's ultimately trying to get into Dental School, he didn't make it this year, mostly, I think, because of many late elements on his app -- and this is an excellent step in that direction.
*beams*
****
I'm not sure about the fickle thing. I am easily bored and that sometimes translates to easily distracted. But fickle? I don't think I'm fickle.
****
National Poetry Month:
Ozymandias
Percy Bysshe Shelley
I MET a Traveler from an antique land,
Who said, "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is OZYMANDIAS, King of Kings."
Look on my works ye Mighty, and despair!
No thing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that Colossal Wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
I am so, so proud. He's worked hard, ya'll. You don't even know. I mean, he aced O-Chem of all things. I am severely impressed. He's ultimately trying to get into Dental School, he didn't make it this year, mostly, I think, because of many late elements on his app -- and this is an excellent step in that direction.
*beams*
I'm not sure about the fickle thing. I am easily bored and that sometimes translates to easily distracted. But fickle? I don't think I'm fickle.
National Poetry Month:
Ozymandias
Percy Bysshe Shelley
I MET a Traveler from an antique land,
Who said, "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is OZYMANDIAS, King of Kings."
Look on my works ye Mighty, and despair!
No thing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that Colossal Wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
