(no subject)
Any fears I had about it being filled with scary intense music and/or gender studies grad students who would knock me out of my tottery fold-out desk when they found out I hadn't the slightest idea what I was talking about were, of course, completely unfounded. It's a bunch of undergraduates, of many many backgrounds, most with little/no training in the subject area. Three papers, four pages each, a couple of essay-based exams, an easy reading list which I've done a quarter of already just from researching potential theses this summer. Walk through the daisies, darling. Normally I'd be disappointed, but I'm already killing myself with other projects this summer, and am therefore not inclined to turn up my nose at an easy A.
And I don't think Stephan and I will kill each other after all. (Actually, I was mostly worried about me wanting to kill him, because that's the direction all of the violence travels in this friendship, I'm afraid. "I only hit you cuz I love you, baby. And because that was REALLY UNNECCESSARILY WORDY. ... Oh, come on. It's for your own good, really. Look, here's a clean tissue.")
Other students may decide to kill us if we talk too much, since I expect we're both by far the most trained in academic music of the bunch. There's the potential for both of us to make ourselves very, very obnoxious here. I'm setting up guidelines for myself -- essentially, I WILL NOT SPEAK if I know for sure I know more about the subject than the other students. (i.e., opera, I'm guessing.) And I will phrase all my remarks so simply and unpretentiously that Judith Butler would gaze down her nose at me in disdain and make me write the words 'performativity' and 'genderization' fifty times.
... Wish me luck. Because I tend to be a pretentious ass when I get bored.
Anyway. Ari and Stephan and Sean descended, somewhat improptu-ly, upon my house tonight. I made dinner: phyllo tomato-and-parmesan-and-herb tart thingy, shrimp in lemon and garlic and ginger marinade, a salad with yogurt mustard dressing, and strawberry and chocolate fondue for dessert. Last night we dined at Ari's house, where she made us an unbelieveable Szechuan Chinese feast, replete with cucumber salad and fried tofu and peanuty-eggplant and two whole fish in the most amazing garlicy sauce ever. We do seem eat rather well, under this rotating-households scheme of dining. Parents have yet to complain. I think we keep their mouths too full. Hehehe.
Morroccan bastilla sometime this weekend. Or possibly apple strudel. Gotta use up that phyllo dough, after all.
Um... in more music nerdity, I kind of want this. It's the sort of shirt that might start a fun conversation, or win you a new friend at a bus stop.
... Wonder how see-through it is. Being white and all. *ponders*
NOT that I need to spend money on clothing when I have a WHOLE NEW LAPTOP TO BUY. Good god.
Wow, this is extremely inane and un-post-worthy. All right, I'm closing the browser window now and going to bed. GOODNIGHT.
And I don't think Stephan and I will kill each other after all. (Actually, I was mostly worried about me wanting to kill him, because that's the direction all of the violence travels in this friendship, I'm afraid. "I only hit you cuz I love you, baby. And because that was REALLY UNNECCESSARILY WORDY. ... Oh, come on. It's for your own good, really. Look, here's a clean tissue.")
Other students may decide to kill us if we talk too much, since I expect we're both by far the most trained in academic music of the bunch. There's the potential for both of us to make ourselves very, very obnoxious here. I'm setting up guidelines for myself -- essentially, I WILL NOT SPEAK if I know for sure I know more about the subject than the other students. (i.e., opera, I'm guessing.) And I will phrase all my remarks so simply and unpretentiously that Judith Butler would gaze down her nose at me in disdain and make me write the words 'performativity' and 'genderization' fifty times.
... Wish me luck. Because I tend to be a pretentious ass when I get bored.
Anyway. Ari and Stephan and Sean descended, somewhat improptu-ly, upon my house tonight. I made dinner: phyllo tomato-and-parmesan-and-herb tart thingy, shrimp in lemon and garlic and ginger marinade, a salad with yogurt mustard dressing, and strawberry and chocolate fondue for dessert. Last night we dined at Ari's house, where she made us an unbelieveable Szechuan Chinese feast, replete with cucumber salad and fried tofu and peanuty-eggplant and two whole fish in the most amazing garlicy sauce ever. We do seem eat rather well, under this rotating-households scheme of dining. Parents have yet to complain. I think we keep their mouths too full. Hehehe.
Morroccan bastilla sometime this weekend. Or possibly apple strudel. Gotta use up that phyllo dough, after all.
Um... in more music nerdity, I kind of want this. It's the sort of shirt that might start a fun conversation, or win you a new friend at a bus stop.
... Wonder how see-through it is. Being white and all. *ponders*
NOT that I need to spend money on clothing when I have a WHOLE NEW LAPTOP TO BUY. Good god.
Wow, this is extremely inane and un-post-worthy. All right, I'm closing the browser window now and going to bed. GOODNIGHT.