Uberpost: the Last Two Months Vomited onto Your Eyes. :-)
Reading Gatsby for John Sheehy. Love that book. Always did, even in high school. Love it even more this time around. No wonder this book restored Hemingway's faith in the novel as an art form--and if it hadn't, where would American literature be now?
So far (counting last semester), I've gone through The Sound and the Fury, The Snopes Trilogy (The Hamlet, The Town, The Mansion), As I Lay Dying, Flags in the Dust, and Absalom, Absalom!; this week I'm supposed to read Light in August. Which will be just as fun as everything else has been. 5 pages a week until break. Then when I get back I'll be expected to jump right into the 20 page paper. I'm a little scared, in all honesty. There's so much to say, it all wants to come out at once. And I don't write 20 pagers. EVER. Aaaagh.
So, this semester I'm writing my paper on Vermont tourism for Carol's senses of place course. I've got a frigging mountain of brochures and stuff from the Welcome Center, and I need to start trying to construct some kind of coherent picture in the next couple weeks. After break I'll need to be doing that paper too. I have to go through a whole review process before I can start my insider interviews and surveys, to make sure I'm doing things ethically; I need to get back to my research proposal tonight and get it as ready as I can. AND I NEED TO GET MY FINAL PLAN APPLICATION DONE. Dana wants John to sign the form for both of them; I just need to fill it out and give her what I wrote so she can OK it all, then get him to sign it. Then it can be turned in. 'Nother thing to get done tonight. Gaaaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhhhhhh.
Cristina and I have been reading Speaker For the dead this semester. If I had a chance to go through the whole Marlboro experience a second time, I'd do my Plan on the Ender series. Because there's so much anth and cultural history stuff to look at. And I like the idea of applying anthropology principles to novels; I was on the verge of asking John if he thought I could do that with Faulkner somehow, but instead decided to stick to a lit interpretation of Yoknapatawpha. Still, someone should do their Plan on Ender. There's just so much there.
In other news, we're sort of fighting right now, though I'm not sure she's aware of it. I don't know, sometimes I just feel like she's ashamed of me or something. For those of you who've read Speaker, I'm feeling a bit like Marcao, hoping in vain that the goddess I love will deem me worthy of actual respect and affection. Because sometimes she seems downright uncomfortable with admitting we're together. A friend of hers who graduated last year was up, visiting with a bunch of people in the Dining Hall, so I came up behind and hugged her, kissed her cheek. She whispered at me snappishly, told me to cut it out. I think she was embarassed in front of her friend, who wasn't even looking at us. Whereas I figured Michelle would be happy to see Dar with a boyfriend, apparently she thought Michelle would think otherwise. Or something. I was hurt though. Came back here, hung my do-not-disturb sign on my door, locked it. Don't think she's been by anyway, so I don't have to worry I've hurt her by doing so. I know a lot of it is me being insecure and clingy, but how many guys like being snapped at for hugging our girlfriends? If I was groping her or something, it'd be one thing, but I didn't do anything, for Christ's sakes. Uber Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Well, I'll get over it. And I hope she'll realize she was being a jerk, too. I hope. I hope. I hope.
Now, back to Gatsby...
So far (counting last semester), I've gone through The Sound and the Fury, The Snopes Trilogy (The Hamlet, The Town, The Mansion), As I Lay Dying, Flags in the Dust, and Absalom, Absalom!; this week I'm supposed to read Light in August. Which will be just as fun as everything else has been. 5 pages a week until break. Then when I get back I'll be expected to jump right into the 20 page paper. I'm a little scared, in all honesty. There's so much to say, it all wants to come out at once. And I don't write 20 pagers. EVER. Aaaagh.
So, this semester I'm writing my paper on Vermont tourism for Carol's senses of place course. I've got a frigging mountain of brochures and stuff from the Welcome Center, and I need to start trying to construct some kind of coherent picture in the next couple weeks. After break I'll need to be doing that paper too. I have to go through a whole review process before I can start my insider interviews and surveys, to make sure I'm doing things ethically; I need to get back to my research proposal tonight and get it as ready as I can. AND I NEED TO GET MY FINAL PLAN APPLICATION DONE. Dana wants John to sign the form for both of them; I just need to fill it out and give her what I wrote so she can OK it all, then get him to sign it. Then it can be turned in. 'Nother thing to get done tonight. Gaaaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhhhhhh.
Cristina and I have been reading Speaker For the dead this semester. If I had a chance to go through the whole Marlboro experience a second time, I'd do my Plan on the Ender series. Because there's so much anth and cultural history stuff to look at. And I like the idea of applying anthropology principles to novels; I was on the verge of asking John if he thought I could do that with Faulkner somehow, but instead decided to stick to a lit interpretation of Yoknapatawpha. Still, someone should do their Plan on Ender. There's just so much there.
In other news, we're sort of fighting right now, though I'm not sure she's aware of it. I don't know, sometimes I just feel like she's ashamed of me or something. For those of you who've read Speaker, I'm feeling a bit like Marcao, hoping in vain that the goddess I love will deem me worthy of actual respect and affection. Because sometimes she seems downright uncomfortable with admitting we're together. A friend of hers who graduated last year was up, visiting with a bunch of people in the Dining Hall, so I came up behind and hugged her, kissed her cheek. She whispered at me snappishly, told me to cut it out. I think she was embarassed in front of her friend, who wasn't even looking at us. Whereas I figured Michelle would be happy to see Dar with a boyfriend, apparently she thought Michelle would think otherwise. Or something. I was hurt though. Came back here, hung my do-not-disturb sign on my door, locked it. Don't think she's been by anyway, so I don't have to worry I've hurt her by doing so. I know a lot of it is me being insecure and clingy, but how many guys like being snapped at for hugging our girlfriends? If I was groping her or something, it'd be one thing, but I didn't do anything, for Christ's sakes. Uber Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Well, I'll get over it. And I hope she'll realize she was being a jerk, too. I hope. I hope. I hope.
Now, back to Gatsby...