(no subject)
well, it's been quite a day. i have like thirty-five letters to the editor this week, because everyone is pissed off about something that's been printed in the last few issues. plus, i get this year's first retraction! couldn't be more proud, really. i have big plans to write something for next week on discussion-based classes and group work. it's gonna be scathing, and all of my profs will hate me, but it's time someone spoke up about this insanity. i'm sick of "learning" from my dumbass peers while a doctorate just goes to waste in the corner of the room. it's the equivalent of having undergraduate tas.
today, for the first time ever, i forgot to turn off my cell phone before class. and it went off. in fucking poetry. while the fucking visiting poet was speaking. and we all know the ringer is the ren and stimpy theme, because i'm just that annoying. poets hate cell phones. poets like to look at the world slowly, fixating on detail and finding meaning in things that don't really matter. to them, cell phones represent a world in which there is no time for detail, and in which things that don't matter really don't matter. emerson delivers diatribes on cell phones daily, so it would have been bad enough on any given day. but this was in front of fucking debora greger. honestly, i could have just burst into tears right then and there. so emerson gave me this tight-lipped smile that said, "katy, you asshole, what the HELL is wrong with you? you have just placed a blemish on our classroom and debora greger will never come back, ever, thanks to your ridiculous antics. i will tell this story to my classes for years to come, and use you as an example of why cell phones suck." so i murmured "shit" and slammed the thing shut.
emerson: *must. kill. katy. nicholson. stat.*
greger: "thank you."
katy: "i'm really sorry."
i'm a firm believer in overcompensation. i commented on poems. i ran into debora greger in the bathroom and apologized again. i went to her poetry reading after class and was 10 minutes early (note to self: never be early for anything again. it really sucks). i stayed awake during the whole thing (can't say the same for the head of the english department). i spent $15.70 on greger's book (that's like a bottle of rum, damn it). i asked her to sign it (talk about kissing ass). i indulged in refreshments and socialized with my peers and emerson (awkward! but the guacamole was superb). and i still kind of want to kill myself.
today, for the first time ever, i forgot to turn off my cell phone before class. and it went off. in fucking poetry. while the fucking visiting poet was speaking. and we all know the ringer is the ren and stimpy theme, because i'm just that annoying. poets hate cell phones. poets like to look at the world slowly, fixating on detail and finding meaning in things that don't really matter. to them, cell phones represent a world in which there is no time for detail, and in which things that don't matter really don't matter. emerson delivers diatribes on cell phones daily, so it would have been bad enough on any given day. but this was in front of fucking debora greger. honestly, i could have just burst into tears right then and there. so emerson gave me this tight-lipped smile that said, "katy, you asshole, what the HELL is wrong with you? you have just placed a blemish on our classroom and debora greger will never come back, ever, thanks to your ridiculous antics. i will tell this story to my classes for years to come, and use you as an example of why cell phones suck." so i murmured "shit" and slammed the thing shut.
emerson: *must. kill. katy. nicholson. stat.*
greger: "thank you."
katy: "i'm really sorry."
i'm a firm believer in overcompensation. i commented on poems. i ran into debora greger in the bathroom and apologized again. i went to her poetry reading after class and was 10 minutes early (note to self: never be early for anything again. it really sucks). i stayed awake during the whole thing (can't say the same for the head of the english department). i spent $15.70 on greger's book (that's like a bottle of rum, damn it). i asked her to sign it (talk about kissing ass). i indulged in refreshments and socialized with my peers and emerson (awkward! but the guacamole was superb). and i still kind of want to kill myself.