Hands off my iguana
1. On Annoyance: The suiters, to my horror, have been singing along to a marathon of what I call Really Bad Musicals. This includes but is not limited to Rent, High School Musical 2 and something to do with Martin Luther K, Jr.
I am losing the will to live.
2. On History 282: I've been trying to read this utterly impossible book for the better part of today. The goal was to get in at least a hundred, better if a hundred and fifty, pages by half an hour ago.
I've got... twenty-two.
(Never read Richard Davis' Wind Against the Mountain. It takes you to page 20 to realize what he's trying to prove. And that's not twenty pages to introduce his thesis; I don't actually know what he's trying to prove, I'm just assuming it has to do with the materialistic nature of South China and suicide pacts and waning masculine identity and how is it that I ALWAYS manage to pick books or subjects that harbor feelings of emasculinization? Also, would anybody like to correct that spelling?)
3. On History 200: Still really, really confused as to what "American West" refers to, and as it's REALLY inhibiting my ability to think of a topic, I'm beginning to feel signs of very obvious panic. I think, on the scale of "good to bad," I'm heading straight for "major figurative screwage."
4. On Life: I MIGHT KILL for a copy of the essays I read in Miss V's Senior English class. I mean it. I've been dying to get my hands on a copy of the one story concerning moonlight and trees and skulking cats and affairs for DAYS now, I've managed to use vague references to the creepy story of the lady who painted plates and her house and the guy she was supposed to marry but who stiffed her and how she SLEPT by his CORPSE for YEARS, and I just, VERY RANDOMLY, came across the phrase "Shakespeare in the Bush," and I am just WAITING to look outside and see an iguana, figurative or literal or somewhere in between.
If I do, I imagine that the Hummer that one frosh drives will flatten it like a pancake.
ADDENDUM
I'm beginning to remember why I hate primary sources.
BECAUSE YOU CANT EFFING READ THEM ^%&^*!$#(*&!@#
I am losing the will to live.
2. On History 282: I've been trying to read this utterly impossible book for the better part of today. The goal was to get in at least a hundred, better if a hundred and fifty, pages by half an hour ago.
I've got... twenty-two.
(Never read Richard Davis' Wind Against the Mountain. It takes you to page 20 to realize what he's trying to prove. And that's not twenty pages to introduce his thesis; I don't actually know what he's trying to prove, I'm just assuming it has to do with the materialistic nature of South China and suicide pacts and waning masculine identity and how is it that I ALWAYS manage to pick books or subjects that harbor feelings of emasculinization? Also, would anybody like to correct that spelling?)
3. On History 200: Still really, really confused as to what "American West" refers to, and as it's REALLY inhibiting my ability to think of a topic, I'm beginning to feel signs of very obvious panic. I think, on the scale of "good to bad," I'm heading straight for "major figurative screwage."
4. On Life: I MIGHT KILL for a copy of the essays I read in Miss V's Senior English class. I mean it. I've been dying to get my hands on a copy of the one story concerning moonlight and trees and skulking cats and affairs for DAYS now, I've managed to use vague references to the creepy story of the lady who painted plates and her house and the guy she was supposed to marry but who stiffed her and how she SLEPT by his CORPSE for YEARS, and I just, VERY RANDOMLY, came across the phrase "Shakespeare in the Bush," and I am just WAITING to look outside and see an iguana, figurative or literal or somewhere in between.
If I do, I imagine that the Hummer that one frosh drives will flatten it like a pancake.
ADDENDUM
I'm beginning to remember why I hate primary sources.
BECAUSE YOU CANT EFFING READ THEM ^%&^*!$#(*&!@#