(no subject)
Dear "James",
I am not going to go to graduate school for literature. In fact, I am probably not going to go to graduate school at all. I am therefore not interested in simulating it in the "microcosm" of your undergraduate course.
Also, I still don't want to call you by your first name. It's weird.
Please look into this,
Trinity
----
In other news, I successfully solidified my standing as a total nerd in my Medieval class today by accidentally showing that yes, I get passionate about gender issues, but if you really want to get me excited, tie our reading back to Harry Potter. Apparently this will cause me to grin at you for five minutes like a very, very creepy moron. Er, sorry about that, classmates.
Also, I'm pretty sure my Women Writers professor is like, "WTF, what happened to you?" at me, because last semester I was super quiet in her class and when I did speak I was a total moron (I was, I never had a clue what was going on, I winged [wung?] that whole class), and now I'm all passionate and all, "Mr. Rochester is a jerk, and Jane needs to either go for it or get over it, and I don't feel bad for people with that much self-loathing, so there." I mean, I think she likes it, but I'm pretty sure she also thinks I must have changed dramatically over the summer. Which I didn't, really. I just actually care about her class now, that's all.
I am not going to go to graduate school for literature. In fact, I am probably not going to go to graduate school at all. I am therefore not interested in simulating it in the "microcosm" of your undergraduate course.
Also, I still don't want to call you by your first name. It's weird.
Please look into this,
Trinity
----
In other news, I successfully solidified my standing as a total nerd in my Medieval class today by accidentally showing that yes, I get passionate about gender issues, but if you really want to get me excited, tie our reading back to Harry Potter. Apparently this will cause me to grin at you for five minutes like a very, very creepy moron. Er, sorry about that, classmates.
Also, I'm pretty sure my Women Writers professor is like, "WTF, what happened to you?" at me, because last semester I was super quiet in her class and when I did speak I was a total moron (I was, I never had a clue what was going on, I winged [wung?] that whole class), and now I'm all passionate and all, "Mr. Rochester is a jerk, and Jane needs to either go for it or get over it, and I don't feel bad for people with that much self-loathing, so there." I mean, I think she likes it, but I'm pretty sure she also thinks I must have changed dramatically over the summer. Which I didn't, really. I just actually care about her class now, that's all.