(no subject)
Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity.
- T. S. Eliot
After next Monday everything will be fine.
After next Monday I will be done with this paper.
I just finished my Exercise log for HEPE - all I have to do is take the final tomorrow and I will be done with that silly class.
I talked with my Romantic Literature professor today about my paper and he helped me realize that I need to turn in a little bit of a different direction with my paper - it will be much improved.
Didacticism is what I want to talk about.
Yeah. Yeah, Didacticism.
yeah.
I'm very excited that my writing seems to have improved so greatly - along with the quality of my "original ideas."
Talking with Dr. Mason helped me remember how much I want to be a professor. He paid me some very sincere and uplifting compliments - noting my genuine interest in the literature as one of his favorite things about me. He also said he liked that I'm not the "typical Provo" student - which is possibly the best compliment I've received all semester. He said he wasn't surprised to find I get carted around on a scooter, that I'm from Seattle, and that I know how to order at Starbucks.
He also recommended me for the pre-graduate program they have here for undergrads. He said I was "just the type of person" who would get accepted and really learn a lot from it. He's at the head of the program - I'm confident about the whole idea. It sounds brilliant.
Last night Jessie and I made a Mediterranean Chicken Pasta Salad. We bought fresh peppers, zucchini, cucumbers, and tomatoes. We made the twirly noodles and tossed it all up with some feta, some parmesan, and a bunch of spices. It's absolutely delicious and so very colorful.
We also bought some peanuts and I thought of going home and going to a Mariner's game.
And I realized
two weeks!
I will be home in two weeks from today.
Seattle makes me want to do this:
you don't even know what I just did.
Because I can't show you until two weeks from now when I see you when I come home.
We'll go to the pier and get fresh seafood. Then we'll go to B&Os and get chocolate beehives. Then maybe we'll drive back and forth across the bridges and try to hold our breath every time.
In Provo the sun shines hot and stuffy but today there is a small breeze. It reminds me of the ocean breeze in California and I want to get in line for Splash Mountain every time I walk across campus.
I am listening to Italian songs on my earphones and wishing I were wearing that green dress that is sitting in Jessie's apartment. I want to sit by the river and sip iced tea from a pink glass. I want to lay a book of poetry on my stomach and run my fingers along its spine - knowing I could read if I wanted to, but I don't have to for class or anything.
I want spring to last.
"Tutto quanto si confonde nella mente
la mia ombra si è stancata di seguirmi
il giorno muore lentamente.
Non mi resta che tornare a casa mia
alla mia triste vita
questa vita che volevo dare a te
l' hai sbriciolata tra le dita.
Amore perdono ma non resisto...
adesso per sempre non esisto
non esisto, non esisto..."