Hello! Long time, no see! Tomorrow is my last day of finals and my head hurts so badly. My brain is on the verge of rejecting anymore information. Yesterday, I "refreshed" my memory with 150 vocab words (haha, do you mean learn again?). That was fun... but on the bright side I feel like I did pretty well on the vocabulary section of the English final. Right now, I'm trying to learn Euler's Method... ew.
Well enough about my current situation. After the English final, my teacher handed out the book
Red Badge of Courage to our class for a weekend assignment. My book is really old and in fairly good condition considering its age. I love the smell of old books. There's something about that dusty, antique smell that intrigues me. I think it's because I visited so many old bookstores when I was a child with my dad. I closed my eyes for a second and I imagined a place that I haven't been in since I was in fourth grade. I didn't even know that memory was stored in my brain all this time. At the corner of the university, there was a second hand bookstore. It was a small building, the type that's bound to be overlooked on a large college campus; but there were always so many people there. There was always a nice lady who worked at the front desk and she smiled all the time. The wooden floor was creaky and books would be everywhere. There would be books on the shelves and books on those steel gray carts. I would always flip through the children's books and one time I even found one about a prince who had been asleep for more than a 1000 years. It's funny what kind of memories simple objects can provoke.
Well enough about my current situation. After the English final, my teacher handed out the book Red Badge of Courage to our class for a weekend assignment. My book is really old and in fairly good condition considering its age. I love the smell of old books. There's something about that dusty, antique smell that intrigues me. I think it's because I visited so many old bookstores when I was a child with my dad. I closed my eyes for a second and I imagined a place that I haven't been in since I was in fourth grade. I didn't even know that memory was stored in my brain all this time. At the corner of the university, there was a second hand bookstore. It was a small building, the type that's bound to be overlooked on a large college campus; but there were always so many people there. There was always a nice lady who worked at the front desk and she smiled all the time. The wooden floor was creaky and books would be everywhere. There would be books on the shelves and books on those steel gray carts. I would always flip through the children's books and one time I even found one about a prince who had been asleep for more than a 1000 years. It's funny what kind of memories simple objects can provoke.
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