There are two kinds of people in this world: good writers and bad writers. And I'm not saying that I was the good writer in this scenario, but I was certainly the better one. My roommate asked me to edit her English paper this evening. I could not stop cringing at some of the major mistakes and I have a whole new found respect for English teachers.
I thought bad writing automatically ended with high school graduation...it doesn't. My hot pink pen seemed to have a mind of its own as I crossed out awkward phrasing and tried to ignore the fact that she had forgotten third person even existed (I thought it was common sense to avoid informality, but there was a generous sprinkling of "I"'s and "you"'s throughout the paper).
But I found the ultra mistake on page five. She actually used the words "freak out" in a formal paper. I'm certain that I actually paused my pink ink rampage in disbelief.
The entire experience left me with a regained appreciation for my high school education. My English teachers consistently guided me in the right direction concerning diction, citations, and transitions, molding me into a A Very Lucky (and decently written) Girl.