(no subject)
I am unable to concentrate on writing this LJ entry because a girl is talking into her cellphone across the table from me at the Ort library. Right now I am procrastinating my final tasks of the semester by updating here, which I procrastinated earlier today by taking forever to get to the library, which I procrastinated earlier this weekend by completely leaving town to spend time with Sean, Jeff, and see Mike Faley off at his going away party. I intended to make a toast to Mike Faley last night, but I completely forgot after I failed to make a single shot in pong and drank a half pitcher of Yuengling. It's not that I'm suddenly really terrible again: the table was up to my chest. I'm just not that pro. Anyway, the irony of this ridiculously layered procrastination with its accents of distraction is not lost on me, and on some meta-level I am deeply amused. On the surface though, I'm just desperate for this semester to end.
I let myself spend the majority of this semester focusing on time: particularly all the time I've lost and the time I've been losing. A watched pot never boils, right? True, but the watcher will inevitably go nuts after a long enough shift. On the way to the library, I noticed that dandelions have taken over all the grass around Dunkle and Tawes. I could learn a thing or two from them. Instead of gazing off into the oblivion of the internet while wringing their metaphorical hands, the dandelions got their damn job done and procreated all up in this bitch.
All is not lost though. My fiction workshop has been particularly fruitful.
Visiting College Park on Friday night and watching the metro trains go by Lake Artemesia after refusing to participate in the loud, dissatisfying bar culture was nostalgic enough that it reminded me of the happier guy I've been, and I'm glad I did it. When exams strip you of your humanity, it's nice to reclaim it.
Anyway, now that my writing fingers are warmed up, it's time to BS a paper about the history of language in newspaper advertising with a focus on ads specifically from The Cumberland Times News and its historical precedents. After that, it'll be time for a study of post-colonial conflict in The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.
I let myself spend the majority of this semester focusing on time: particularly all the time I've lost and the time I've been losing. A watched pot never boils, right? True, but the watcher will inevitably go nuts after a long enough shift. On the way to the library, I noticed that dandelions have taken over all the grass around Dunkle and Tawes. I could learn a thing or two from them. Instead of gazing off into the oblivion of the internet while wringing their metaphorical hands, the dandelions got their damn job done and procreated all up in this bitch.
All is not lost though. My fiction workshop has been particularly fruitful.
Visiting College Park on Friday night and watching the metro trains go by Lake Artemesia after refusing to participate in the loud, dissatisfying bar culture was nostalgic enough that it reminded me of the happier guy I've been, and I'm glad I did it. When exams strip you of your humanity, it's nice to reclaim it.
Anyway, now that my writing fingers are warmed up, it's time to BS a paper about the history of language in newspaper advertising with a focus on ads specifically from The Cumberland Times News and its historical precedents. After that, it'll be time for a study of post-colonial conflict in The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.