how to write a ten page paper.

how to write a perfect ten page paper, as told from the eyes of emily, our intrepid college blogger, whose life generally consists of cereal and awkward moments.

step one. open a microsoft word document and get ready.

so. i hauled my laptop to my carrel. i took a vintage picture of simba next to it with instagram, and of course, spent ten minutes finding the perfect new desktop background. although i love having matthew gray gubler smiling at me every time i use my computer, i could not help but feel resentment from my loving boyfriend. so i managed to find a small storm trooper that was willing to help build a battle station for food.

he didn't find the droids he was
looking for.

i opened my microsoft word, ready to prepare myself to write all about lolita. i saved the blank document, titled it LOOOOLEEEEETAAAAA, and then...

got on tumblr.

oh the things you can reblog! oh the things, the things, the things! and to mollify myself, just a little bit, i even checked the lolita tag.

i do not believe that it is okay that there is a lolita fashion line. which brings about one of my sources, who wrote a book called chasing lolita: how popular culture corrupted nabokov's little girl all over again.


step two. get out all the stuff you need to write your paper.


before i move onto this step, i should probably tell you exactly what i'm writing my paper about. for those of you who haven't read lolita, you should. it's about a french man named humbert humbert who is a pedophile, falls madly in love with his step daughter dolores haze, and he kidnaps her and they go on a road trip in which they engage in what we like to call, in this society, rape.

LOOOO
LEEEE
TAAAAA

but i'm not joking, it's one of the greatest novels ever. go read it.

my thesis is as follows: through the one-sidedness of his narration, humbert humbert is two people, an artist and a monster, with the artist trying desperately to cover up that monstrosity that lurks within himself.  in a desperate attempt to destroy the monster part of himself, the artist humbert constructs the character of clare quilty, and ultimately murders him.

BASICALLY...

1. humbert narrates as two people.
2. clare quilty is not actually real.
3. even though in the novel he's presented as a real breathing person that humbert shoots like, eighty times. it's hilarious.

moving on. in gathering everything that i needed to write my paper, i printed off my annotated bibliography, because i needed all eight of my sources, not including the text. i wrote them on a sticky pad and crossed them off every time i used them. i printed off the shorter, more stupid paper that i'd written last year as a mere freshman in college on the same subject to reference. i printed off my presentation notes, because i talked about my thesis for twelve minutes to my class last week.

that is not my email.
i swiped this from google.

then i got on tumblr.

oh the things you can reblog! oh the things, things, things, things!

step three. write the paper.


for me to sufficiently write the paper, i need to disconnect my internet. with eight sources, this was going to be difficult, so what did i do?

yep, i used only the quotes that i put in my annotated bibliography. i put them in my bib for a reason. now i could use them.

the most painful part of the paper is the introduction. lolita is a good book, blah blah. humbert is an unreliable narrator, ahem ahem. oh, he's two people, and by the way, quilty isn't real. let's talk about what this guy says about unreliable narration, and then we're under way.

four hours later, with my hair significantly flatter and my dress not as cute as it was when i put it on, i had eight out of my ten pages. i wanted to cry and kick and scream. i had two pages left and i didn't know what to do with them.

so i went to sleep.

step four. finish the paper.


we can assume that by now, i've been on tumblr for hours and hours in between sentences. before i even THOUGHT about concluding my paper and figuring out how to finish it, i tumbled. and then i decided that listening to gramercy arms (which was wonderful), wasn't going to cut it.

i would appreciate being
this ripped.

P.I.M.P by 50 cent was gonna do the trick, mhm.

so, while listening to steel drums and 50 cent assert his pimpness upon my ears about a hundred times, i struggled to conclude my paper. then i printed off the little sucker and ran it over to SAC to have dr. aspinall look at it. he was giving an exam until four, so i got there at precisely 3:56 and took a seat awkwardly in the english bay.

he didn't come back. dr. chen alerted me that he was going to a senior thesis presentation.

don't get me wrong. that's really important and really cool. but i'm selfish and right then, i wanted him to look at my paper.

so i went to dinner and then remembered that i had an ed psych final and that i was really supposed to study for it. i remembered this at six. how i did on that final is an entirely different post.

step five. go consult your professor.


this morning, i got up bright and early (ha. yeah right.) and ran my paper over to dr. aspinall's office. his door was closed, which is a first. it's never closed, even when he's gone. i waited for a while, and was about to text my boyfriend when suddenly his door flew open, he zoomed out, paused and said, "oh hi emily" and then ran out of the room.

#umexcusemewhat.

he came back and i tentatively asked if he could look at my paper. he ushered me inside, told me he had a lot of things to do but of course he'd read my paper, and then took it and immediately began scribbling all over my first page. i contented to look at all the cool shakespeare stuff he had in his office. i hate it when people read things that i've written while i'm around. i can't even have my boyfriend read my own blog when i'm in the room, it freaks me out.

the gist of what went down: my thesis wasn't strong enough (i gave you the strengthened version), i meandered around until page three, and after that, i was golden.

so. what was i supposed to do with the first three pages?

step six. revise the eff outta that paper.


instead of directly revising my paper, i went to the library, where a large and scary spider ran across my keyboard while i was tumbling. i did not scream, but pushed my chair away from my carrel, breathed very heavily, and spouted gibberish. after posting about this incident on various forms of social media and reblogging fun things from fun people, i went to lunch.

i then strengthened my thesis, added a little bit of tie-in stuff to hopefully make my first three pages relevant and passable, and then tried to make sure that it flowed and was grammatically fantastic. one can never do this on their own. as i type, my boyfriend is revising my paper.

step seven. turn that sucka in.


step seven, for me, will not occur until tomorrow morning. after jacob is finished revising, i'll look at his changes, decide if i like them, and employ them. (i just used employ. i am so sorry. i might still be in paper writing mode.)

then i'm going out with my RA staff to eat giant sundaes and i'm not going to give a care.

while printing off my ten page monstrosity (ha! i made a pun!) i ran into heidi. i told her all about my paper, and then noticed that she was printing off her 44 page thesis in french.

i no longer feel that i can viably complain about writing a ten page paper on a pedophile. i did, however, tell her to read lolita, since the pedophile in question is french, and often interjects in french, and expects us to understand exactly what he's saying. i am too lazy to find all the footnotes at the back of the novel.

remember the steps to writing your paper. when you write your paper, make sure that you do not get on tumblr. make sure that you use all of your required sources, because i'm still missing one, and at this point, i do not care. take time to eat, and remember, if your professor isn't there, just obsessively stalk them until you find them.

i leave you with barney stinson's steps on how to run a marathon.

1. start running.
2. there is no step two.

how to write a paper.

1. don't refer to this blog.
2. write.
3. there is no step three.

on finals, lions, and toilets.

finals week is upon us yet again.

i remember finals week last semester. the list from that blog post still stands.

here's a refresher.


1. grab all of the books and notes you own.
2. spend an hour trying to find a place to camp out in the library, buy something with caffeine from highland java, and praise the extended hours.
3. spend a ridiculous amount of time on facebook, tumblr, youtube, or whatever you're into.
4. actually do your homework when you realize it's midnight and the library closes at two.


the last time i blogged about finals and exams, it was actually during finals week. this week is hell week, the last week of classes. i have two classes left in my career as a sophomore in college, and that scares me.


i feel that this week, and this finals week, is a bit different than last semester. for a number of reasons.


1. PAPERS. NOTHING BUT PAPERS.
2. oh, i have one actual final?
3. what do you mean, there's a portfolio party?
4. oh. i have to write a sonnet. okay.
5. is there food at the portfolio party?
6. what TIME is the portfolio party?
7. no matter how times i look at the sticky note that says "WRITE YOUR DAMN PAPER!", i just can't do it.
8. assigned reading? nahhhh.


the finals are currently standing like this. 


1. two four-page essays for american lit due next tuesday. ACCOMPLISHED.
2. one ten page research paper on lolita. NOT HAPPENING.
3. one education portfolio. ACCOMPLISHED.
4. one classroom management plan. ACCOMPLISHED. with the help of my mother and some tears.
5. one poetry portfolio. GETTING ACCOMPLISHED. this afternoon.
6. one sit-down ed psych final. LAUGHABLE.
7. one blog about finals week. IN PROGRESS.


number one on my list is making really happy. here's how this went down.


without my teacher placement, i don't have anything going on tuesdays and thursdays until one. however, i am good responsible young adult, and i still get up at eight thirty, shower, stand around in my towel trying to figure out what to wear, and go to breakfast at nine.


i then hole up in my library carrel with my stuffed simba.

yes. i got instragram.
go follow me or something.
emilyyxh.

simba has been riding with me everywhere. he likes the art building, and really likes saga (the cafeteria) because there, people pet him. he normally sticks out of my backpack. today, my sorority sister only saw his mane and thought he was a troll.


I FUGGIN' HATE TROLLS, OKAY.


but anyway. on tuesday, i had nothing going on but class at one (which simba particularly enjoyed). after that, it was just library time. oh yay, library time. time at my carrel. like i'm having right now. because at my carrel, i have internet. and that means... TUMBLR.


i knew that i wanted to write my ten page paper. after all, i had given my twelve minute presentation on my paper, i had all of my research, and my TERRIBLE annotated bibliography (that's a blog post all by itself). i was ready to write this paper. 


but i couldn't do it, nope nope, couldn't do it.


so i got out my prompt for dr. vivian's american lit class. i haven't read a required reading for that class in at least a month, and we just sit around and talk about life. the other day, we got into a large discussion about why men think they are better than grass. because we do, don't we? don't we think we're better than grass?


but that's not the point. the point was, i had to write two four page essays for next tuesday, the seventeenth. there was just something to tack onto my weekend, to tack onto my busy schedule, because of course, everything that ever has to do with being an RA happens during finals week.


i sat down, turned off my internet (except when i had to wikipedia to look up the death toll of september eleventh) and i wrote. here was what was accomplished.


1. two four page essays, each done in forty-five minutes.
2. two separate paper cuts, one on each hand.
3. one poem. 
4. three staples.


when i turned both of those essays in yesterday, a week before they were due, you should've seen dr. vivian's face. 


PAPERS, ACCOMPLISHED! 


i spent a decent amount of time on sunday night working on my management plan. i got so far, gave up, and then got on tumblr. i then called my mother on monday and asked her about her management plan.


when students make her upset or don't listen to her, she stands on her desk and sings.


this will be something i will do when i student teach.


management plan, accomplished. and i even drove to the high school, interviewed my placement teacher for two minutes, and had her give me back my evaluation. which was good. i love it when i get good evaluations.


so now i'm sitting here with this ten page paper looming over my head. it's not like i didn't know about it. i've known about this paper since the first day of class on january eighth or ninth or tenth, whatever day it was. i've done my works cited. i've done my annotated bibliography. i gave my twelve minute presentation. i've read the book four times.


but i cannot write that paper for the life of me. not that i've tried all that hard.


the thing about papers is, i just have to write it. i know i can write it, i know it won't take me more than six hours, i just need that six hour time chunk. i can't start it and then leave. i can't write four pages today, five pages tomorrow, and the conclude it on sunday. i just can't work like that.


and i have so much other stuff going on that's not finals that i just don't have that chunk of time.


so today i'm making my poetry portfolio.


i could be working on that right now. i have lunch in half an hour, and then my last reading writing and research class. but instead, i'm blogging, taking stupid pictures on instagram, tumbling, and of course, writing this blog.


ahhhh, finals week.


the most daunting part of my poetry portfolio, right now, is the fact that he wants me to write a sonnet. i don't want to write a sonnet. i don't rhyme. i also have to go through my poems and edit them in ways that i might not like.


i'm going name the portfolio hunting whales. my best poem is called hunting whales, and it won a poetry contest last week. i bought a guitar with my cash prize.

no, i haven't named it yet.

it's really hard to learn the guitar when your to-do list has a mind of its own and occasionally walks in and out of your bathroom. which you really need to clean.


speaking of bathrooms, last night i had this CRAZY dream that i was in the white house with michelle obama. it was one of those inception things where i realized that i didn't know how i got there, but i went with it anyway, and just accepted the fact that i was in the white house and chillin' with the first lady.


so i'm at the white house, and michelle obama has this CRAZY awesome mosaic tiled toilet, and man, do i have to pee. so i pee in this legitimate tile toilet and michelle obama is like, "i'm so glad that you like the toilets that we have here. barack and i love them so much."

i feel like this is a good spot to end my blog. because i'm not sure what just happened.


eventually, i'll write this ten page monstrosity (that's a pun. if you know my thesis.), i'll actually start working on my poetry portfolio, and who knows, i might make flashcards for my ed psych final. it's the only sit-down final that i have, so i might as well kind of prepare for it.


bless library hours, poetry cash prizes that lead to classical guitars, and michelle obama's dream toilets.


and bless finals week. we can do it.

how moustaches took over my life.

I first saw one when I was in the Newberry bathroom.

Then there was another one in the library bathroom.

Then they were on sticks in jars.

Moustaches. They were everywhere.

I went back to the Newberry moustache on the mirror, and lucky for me, there was a nice set of directions to tell me what to do with this moustache. It told me to take a fun picture and put it on the Moustache Challenge Facebook page.

Hang on a second. Moustache Challenge? What kind of a challenge is that? What was this?

I am not the type of person to just sit around while my campus got covered in orange moustaches on sticks. I had to get to the bottom of this. So what was the first thing I did?

my social media-ized
'stache picture.

I swiped a moustache on a stick from Saga, took a picture with it, and put it on Facebook. I found the 'Stash Challenge page and put that picture up where everybody could see it. It then became my profile picture on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Tumblr, and my personal blog. Like Scotty, I'd gotten my 'stache on.

But I still didn't understand exactly what I was doing.

I flocked to the masses of Alma College like a private investigator with a notebook. I had three simple questions for the people that I accosted.

1. How much do you know about the Stash Challenge?
2. What do you think about it?
3. What do you like about it?

And if anybody really felt like talking to me, a crazed student trying to figure out why moustaches had taken over my life, I asked them if they had any general comments about the challenge.

The first person I hit up was Dr. Aspinall, English professor loved by all for his extensive Shakespeare knowledge and pink pants.

He informed me that the challenge was to encourage current students to give back earlier, instead of waiting fifty years and then deciding to donate to the college. It was about school spirit and advancing the college's direction.

After our interview, I checked the 'Stash Challenge Facebook page, and lo and behold, there was a picture of the beloved English professor, rockin' his own 'stache.

But I was not done ferretting. I still had to get to the bottom of this 'Stash Challenge. I took the campus by storm. Mostly at Saga.

My good friend and sorority sister Mal Montgomery ('14) was very vocal on the subject of the 'Stash Challenge during dinner.

"You hold up that cute little stache in the mirror or the cute litle stache on the stick. That should be a thing. 'Stache on a stick. If you post it to Facebook, we get money and instantly become the 20%. Then we get ten thousand bucks. I really like that, 'stache on a stick. And of course, they're moustaches. What's not to like?"

When I asked her if she had any comments, she said, "I just want more moustaches. I have like, fifty in my room. I wish I could grow one."

I cornered Tyler Buckingham ('14) at my library carrel. When I asked him for anything on the Challenge, he said, "No! I'm not prepared! I don't even know what it is!" When I told him this was going on my blog, he ran away.

When I accosted Carrie Frame ('13) in my poetry class, she shied away from being interviewed, but at last told me her thoughts on the challenge.

"Um... people take pictures that look like Scotty. I like it, I think it's funny. It's a fun way to get campus participation, and it's advertised really well. But I don't understand; is there a winner? Do they get anything?

Connor Welsh, '14, listened into the interview and had a few things to say about it himself.

"There are advertisements everywhere for it. As far as I know, you just take a picture, put it on Facebook, embarrass yourself, and get prizes. And it was nice to know that they just weren't in the boy's bathrooms. Girls can rock 'staches too.The whole thing is pretty hilarious."

In terms of prizes, shortly after I decided I was going to go out and figure out this whole moustache phenomenon, I got an email saying that I had won something for my moustache picture. I had won a button set, and could I please pick it up in the Hood Building?

I'd never been in the Hood Building. But I won some pretty cool buttons.

stache buttons!

The last person that I went to talk to was Bobby Kaczanowski ('13), an intern at PR, a fellow RA, and the proud owner of a 'Stash Challenge shirt. If anybody knew anything about the 'Stash Challenge, it was Bobby.

"It's a challenge that's put on by the Board of Trustees for students and recent alumni. It's called the 'Stash Challenge because it's kind of like 'stache' for moustache, but it's also applying to 'stash', like a stash of money. We're really just trying to get students and recent alumni to donate to the Alma Fund. I really like it. I think it's way more effective than traditional ploys to get money, and you don't have to donate lots. It's really fun! Get involved!"

Brian McCallister, '13, listened in on the interview and concurred: "I like it!"

On the Alma College 'Stash Challenge's page, this could be found in the information section to alert students who were putting their 'staches on social media:

Utilities, scholarships, opportunities... Did you know the ALMA Fund supports all of these things? You might think that change at the bottom of your desk drawer doesn't mean much. But it does!

The Alma College Stash Challenge has two goals: 20% participation from students and young alumni and 30% overall participation. If these goals are reached, the Board of Trustees will donate $10,000 to the ALMA Fund. So grab your stash of change, pay it forward by giving back, and get your 'stache on!

Well, I had certainly gotten my 'stache on by posting pictures to Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr. I was in a constant Twitter conversation with @almacollege, who told me that I should name my library carrel 'Stache Central.

But that's ridiculous. I'm just a blogger trying to get to the bottom of Moustache Mystery.

So now only a few questions remain, and it is my duty to ask you.

1. What do YOU think about the moustache challenge?
2. Will YOU get your 'stache on?
3. Wouldn't you like more scholarships and opportunities here at Alma College?

So now, I'm daring you to get your 'stache on if you haven't already. I certainly have.

(this was written originally for the student life office at my college. so that's why it's all capitalized and is asking you to get involved. but if you go to alma and you're reading this, GO GET YOUR 'STACHE ON!)