academic requirements and moral obligations

My mother yelled at me to write in my blog, so I'll be an obedient daughter. OH that's one of my new words. 'Brav' means obedient, and is one of those obnoxious words that looks like it could be the same thing in English. No, that's 'mutig'. I have become very familiar with that word because it's always being yelled at the bass section in choir about their entrances.
Anyway, I have thus far have had a productive day. I woke up at 10 to go to the AYF office and take care of some paperwork. I am now officially enrolled in classes, which makes me laugh because everyone in Ann Arbor it's already past mid-terms. Afterward, I finally bought my Semesterkarte to ride the Strassenbahn, which I have been purposely avoiding. It's been forcing me to walk/ride my bike more, but I finally caved. The fee for being a Schwarzfahrer (literally, black rider, but means you're riding without a ticket) is pretty steep, and I have been rebellious a few times already.
Then I came home, did my laundry, made lunch, read a bit, and I am now working on my third cup of coffee. I am meeting my choir at the train station at 16:50 to go up to Oberprechtal for the weekend, which I am so excited about. I'm borrowing Sonja's sleeping bag, so this will officially be my first German sleepover. Ohh boy.
Last week in sectionals I stumbled upon another American alto, Andrea, who is here for the year. After rehearsal we walked back into town together (about a half an hour walk) which I absolutely didn't mind because we were just talking about everything and absolutely bonding. She was an English/Music major at Amherst, but then switched to German/Music after realizing she was sick of people asking her how she felt after reading something. She's originally from New Jersey, also has a very musical family, is an obsessive journal writer, and actually prefers playing the piano to singing.
We were both getting overly excited about meeting each other, so I'm excited to spend all weekend with her.
Another funny thing that I suppose I should mention, is how well I can relate to her reason for not majoring in English. That's basically the same thing I thought. Also, most English majors I've met at U of M are absolutely miserable with their major. I was so excited about taking Intro. to Poetry last semester, but after asking around, I decided to run in the opposite direction. These were fellow book-lovers who warned me that I'd come out the other end hating poetry. No thank you. I also do much better with books when I'm not being forced to read them and then go along with someone elses understanding of the text. That just goes along with my personality, though.
For example, during my middle school and high school years, reading To Kill a Mockingbird was never required of me. I find this incredibly rare, considering the overwhelming majority of my peers had to. But, this was also a blessing. I got to read it (and re-read it) on my own, which I loved. Who's to know if it would be one of my favorite books today if it had been presented to me differently.
Now, things like The Scarlet Letter and Great Expectations I would have loathed either way, I think.
Also, I hate how U of M forces every freshman to take English 124: College Writing. Now, I think it's a good idea for the majority of incoming freshman, but I wish they'd take a look at AP scores. If someone did exceptionally well on AP Literature, AP Language, or, ya know BOTH, maybe they shouldn't have to take a class that would basically just be review.
I enjoy easy A's, but I do not enjoy wasting my time.
So, if anyone was curious, that's why I'm not an English major.

Last night Laura IMed me, freaking out about "everything". Poor Punky. So, I gave her some advice, and I happen to think this was damn good advice. I think I would offer this to anyone who is stressing out.
I asked her if she'd been alone in awhile and she hadn't. So I told her to put on some comfortable clothes, wash off her makeup, grab a journal and go to Starbucks. I told her to get some type of comforting drink, like hot chocolate or hot cider. No caffeine. Find a spot in the corner. The corner is essential, because it's easier to get into your own little world there, and you don't feel like you're on display. Then, just write. Doesn't matter about what. Just write about your thoughts, why you're stressed, how you feel about global warming, etc. Sometimes I'll people watch and then write about what I see. Your feelings come out in whatever you write. That's why writing without a bias is impossible.
I hope she followed my advice. The older I get, the more I value alone time. I've also found a favorite corner in my favorite cafe. The front left corner of Aspekt. A Milchkaffee and some Kartoffelsuppe and I'm set for hours. That's what I did last weekend with Franny & Zooey by J.D. Salinger. I would recommend that one, by the way.

All of my friends have run off to Barcelona for the weekend on a whim. I'm not too jealous, because I'm going to Paris next weekend to celebrate Lisa's 21st. And I get to spend this weekend singing Latin and doing yawn sighs which is one of my ideas of a perfect weekend.
The Paris thing was kind of a random decision I made after talking to Mommy. I have someplace to stay, I can live off of French cheese, bread and wine for a weekend, and I mean, SEEING PARIS RIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS???
I told Lisa not to worry about the Lourve or Versailles, because we have limited time and I feel like trying to do those two in a hurry would be foolish. But everything else I want to see, including the Sainte Chapelle, per the advice of Cindy Stuart. I also would say I'd like to practice my French, but I'm not going to kid myself. I remember about 20 words, and one of those is 'oublier'. Oh the irony.
Speaking of Versailles, I went to see Marie Antoinette the other night. There wasn't much dialogue or plot, but the film was meant more to be visual candy, I think. It was also kind of nice not being overwhelmed with rapid fire German.
After the film, my friend Monika and I were talking about why we weren't going on and on about how we'd like to live a life of luxury like that. We know too much of the history. Normally, I'd ooh and ahh all about her gorgeous shoes, but I also know all about how many people were starving. Instead, it makes it disgusting
But then, you know, I'm living the life of luxury compared to the majority of people on this planet. Am I as bad at Marie Antoinette? How obligated should I be? am I?

Thoughts like this are what I write about when I'm holed up in cafe corners.