(no subject)
It's good to know that even at this point, I'm still able to fangirl my thesis subjects. (Apologies -- I may have posted part of this speech last spring, during finals.)
"Oh - Bosie! I have to go back to him, you know. Robbie will be furious but it can't be helped. The betrayal of one's friends is a bagatelle in the stakes of love, but the betrayal of oneself is lifelong regret. Bosie is what became of me. He is spoiled, vindictive, utterly selfish and not very talented, but these are merely the facts. The truth is he was Hyacinth when Apollo loved him, he is ivory and gold, from his red rose-leaf lips comes music that fills me with joy, he is the only one who understands me.... We would never love anybody if we could see past our invention. Bosie is my creation, my poem. In the mirror of invention, love discovered itself." -- Oscar Wilde, The Invention of Love (94-5).
Why is this play so amazing? Unfortunately, I still can't articulate exactly what makes it all so wonderful. This is problematic, as I'm trying to finish a chapter for tonight. Right-o.
(While I'm here: Aaaaaaagggghh tour groups. How the f*ck are we supposed to be able to work in the bloody library on a Sunday if there are tour groups walking through literally EVERY TWO MINUTES?! Not that I'm not happy to know that there is a student::computer ratio of 4 to 1; and 70/30 PC to Mac; and that the couches in the IC were kept because students especially requested they be saved during remodeling as they are the comfiest sofas on campus -- which is true. I have to move. Otherwise, like Barbara Bush in that one episode of The Simpsons, I'll have to start giving the goddamn tour speech every time people stop at my table.)
EDIT: Okay, we're down to less than a minute between groups. I give up. My death glares are going to start driving the prospies away.
EDITED AGAIN: Wow. That cup of coffee I had for breakfast made me really hostile. Note to self: consider switching to tea?
"Oh - Bosie! I have to go back to him, you know. Robbie will be furious but it can't be helped. The betrayal of one's friends is a bagatelle in the stakes of love, but the betrayal of oneself is lifelong regret. Bosie is what became of me. He is spoiled, vindictive, utterly selfish and not very talented, but these are merely the facts. The truth is he was Hyacinth when Apollo loved him, he is ivory and gold, from his red rose-leaf lips comes music that fills me with joy, he is the only one who understands me.... We would never love anybody if we could see past our invention. Bosie is my creation, my poem. In the mirror of invention, love discovered itself." -- Oscar Wilde, The Invention of Love (94-5).
Why is this play so amazing? Unfortunately, I still can't articulate exactly what makes it all so wonderful. This is problematic, as I'm trying to finish a chapter for tonight. Right-o.
(While I'm here: Aaaaaaagggghh tour groups. How the f*ck are we supposed to be able to work in the bloody library on a Sunday if there are tour groups walking through literally EVERY TWO MINUTES?! Not that I'm not happy to know that there is a student::computer ratio of 4 to 1; and 70/30 PC to Mac; and that the couches in the IC were kept because students especially requested they be saved during remodeling as they are the comfiest sofas on campus -- which is true. I have to move. Otherwise, like Barbara Bush in that one episode of The Simpsons, I'll have to start giving the goddamn tour speech every time people stop at my table.)
EDIT: Okay, we're down to less than a minute between groups. I give up. My death glares are going to start driving the prospies away.
EDITED AGAIN: Wow. That cup of coffee I had for breakfast made me really hostile. Note to self: consider switching to tea?