A few posts back, I talked about how I was sure I was going to hate my English class. The impression I got was that we were going to spend the whole semester interpreting hopelessly ambiguous literature and that the goal was to pour as much esoteric meaning into it as possible. I was quite annoyed with it.
But I don't want to leave you with a bad impression of my English teacher. The class is turning out not to be nearly as bad as my first impression led me to believe. I'm still not into this sort of thing, but it isn't near the fiasco I imagined it would be.
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