Transition, what's that?

I had my speech class tonight and delivered a 12 paged doo dad on the works of Maya Angelou and Langston Hughes.

I may begin a career in the field of public speaking. It isn't so bad after all. Although, I must say, my heart felt like it was going to explode by page 9. I was shaking, but hid it much better this time. My eye contact deserves a Pulitzer Prize, or at least a low grade tee-ball trophy if anything.

I began reading a book from my childhood today. I found it in my mother's closet and thought the timing was impeccable. "The Lives of the Presidents" it's titled, and obviously, that's what it's about. It only includes up until Clinton (who cares about good ol' dubya anyway?) and I read up on some interesting tidbits of good ol' RR. He seemed like a really swell guy.

Spoke with a boy last night, the one who commented in the entry below, and as you guessed it, that would be the infamous him I speak of. There's not much to say. I think our time has passed.

I'm jittery, probably reprecussions from the speech. So many of my classmates were just amazing. I mean, the literature they chose was brilliant in itself, but the delivery was terrific. (Oh my Gad, I just said "terrific")

At any rate, that is all for now, folks. *Bows* Thank you, thank you.