Five minute break

The author of my biology textbook may know science... but he's a pathetic writer.

I'm also horrible at staying focused, and I'm almost as bad at taking tests. I'm smart enough that I could easily be a straight A student if it weren't for my darned attention span. I can focus fine... for about fifteen minutes. People say it helps if you student for fifteen minutes, then take a five-minute break, then study for fifteen minutes, then take a five-minute break. They say you "retain the information better." I assume it works for them--otherwise, they wouldn't claim it's true. But I can't do that. First of all, what are you supposed to do in this five-minute break? Stand up, get a drink of water, and stare at a spot on the wall while counting to 300? If I try to take a five-minute break, I end up playing the piano or checking e-mail or playing a game, and I don't even notice when the "five-minute" break turns into a two-hour break. I try taking notes. I try doing the chapter review. I try highlighting important concepts as I read. And I still end up being a B-average student, and I can't say the quizzes aren't fair, because I go back to the questions I missed, and I find the answer in the text, matching the question almost word for word.

Yes, I am freaking out over an 80%. That's because that's normal for me, and I don't think it should be that way. Especially since this is an introductory-level biology course, reviewing things I remember learning in high school. Actually, I learned it pretty well in high school.... Coach Butcher was an amazing teacher.

Now I'm babbling. Ignore me.

Hey, I got my room clean yesterday. I even rearranged a little bit by moving the top mattress between the bed and the wall. Now I don't have to jump to get on my bed anymore.

Okay, speaking of intelligence, which we were, but then weren't, but now are again... And this paragraph is going to be a little sappy, so you can skip it if you want... Sometimes I really miss talking to my mom. She's busy a lot of the time now, so even when I do call, I can't talk for very long. I miss talking to her in the car on the way to and from school, or finding time to talk to her just before bedtime. What I miss most is telling her about things I'd noticed or discovered or been thinking about. It seems that lately anytime I try to start an intelligent conversation, people either blow me off or say "Uh, yeah, duh, didn't you know that already?" or complain that I'm getting too technical on them. And when I think back to the times I talked with my mom, she always listened, always added more information, always encouraged me to keep thinking. Very rarely did I talk about something she didn't understand, and when I did, she would patiently listen while I explained it to her so she could. Isn't it funny that you never notice how much things like that meant to you till they're gone?

Yeah, yeah, I know, I should've saved that spiel for Mother's Day, right? Meh. Hey, "spiel" is taken straight from the German word for "game." Funny, that.

It's been steadily snowing for the last few days, but it's warm enough that I can go outside without a jacket, long sleeves rolled up, and be comfortable. Well, obviously I wouldn't want to stay like that for hours, but you know what I mean.

The moose is still hanging around the resort. Haven't had guests trying to chase after it with cameras, at least.

Dawnee taught me how to play a song called Greatest Story Ever Told on guitar last summer. I haven't played it since maybe September, but for some reason, out of the blue, it got stuck in my head a few days ago. Problem is, I can't seem to keep Dawnee's half-sized, nylon-stringed guitar in tune. Rawr, I miss Flash! (Flash is my guitar. Beautiful, full-size, steel-stringed Dean. It's in Utah. Woe!)

Anywho, I guess I'll go start my history course now. Blarg!

Toodles!