Vanessa Williams was almost right

It's flat-out snowing right now. 

Motherfucking Wisconsin.

Sunday Night

Well, today may not have been a good day in the traditional sense of the word, but it was certainly productive. I got loads of work done, I regained some semblance of belief in my own competency as a student, and I got some very sound advice from Marshelle. All of these are good things.

And I still have three more days off. W00t.

Saturday thoughts

I need a quick break before launching into the section of paper I just outlined, so...some thoughts.

1) I want to be a nicer person. I used to be nice...I remember being really nice when I was in grade school, considerate and non-judgmental and less gossip-prone. Okay maybe not that last one. But I am pretty sure I used to be nicer, and I kind of hate it about myself that I'm not so much anymore. I wouldn't say I'm a mean person; it's not so strong a trait that it's defining. But I've grown snarky, snide and certainly more judging, and I don't like that. That's not what I wanted to be like when I was younger, it's something that just kind of crept up on me without my thinking about it. And I want to change. I expect it will be hard...turns out it's true what they say and that it's easier to slide down than climb up. Goodness knows I've learned this. But I think I can be nicer. It seems a small step.

2) I like being in grad school when I'm working hard on final papers for long stretches and have breakthroughs. I like being in grad school when I get assignments back with professorial praise on them. I like being in grad school when I feel like I performed well in class (which is almost never). I like being in grad school when I think about how, when I'm a professor, all I'll do is teach people about books and work really hard on papers for long stretches and have breakthroughs. I like grad school when it means I have a whole summer to play with kids and serve food (hopefully) and frolic with my friends. I like grad school when I see my friends. I like grad school when I can see the lake.

3) I don't like grad school when I have to work on final papers that I feel are deeply mediocre, and whose breakthroughs don't quite make it all the way through the wall. I don't like grad school when I have to present those deeply mediocre papers to my peers. I don't like grad school when I'm reminded of how incredibly bad I am at synthesizing theoretical concepts by listening to people be really good at doing just that. I don't like grad school when I realize what an incredible drawback my perpetual lack of ambition is in a field where drive is the difference between an 'A' on a paper and a paper that will eventually get published. I don't like grad school when it isolates me. I don't like grad school when I'm working frantically to produce papers I'm not ashamed to turn in while also dealing with emotionally draining personal drama. I don't like grad school when I think about how it means I can't move for 6 years.

4) I love Top Chef. I can't believe they sent both the lesbians home...seems like an odd production decision, since there could have been some good drama there. And Lisa really needs to go. I hate her.

5) I want to make cupcakes this week, but I don't have the ingredients, and I know if I go to the store there's no way I'll only buy what I need, and since I can't afford to go grocery shopping this week, they may have to wait. I think all I need is a baking bar for flavoring the frosting; while I haven't actually confirmed that with the recipe, I'm awash with eggs and butter, and the sugar/flour supply is going strong. So if some kind soul wants to buy me one, there's cupcakes in it for you. That is, if I ever see Renee again so I can get my pan back. :-)

6) I've been eating a bit less and working out more, and I feel better. Here's hoping this indicates a new leaf and not a fluke week. 

It's about *exchange*, not *price.* Ahhhh.

Major progress on Shakespeare today. The end is nigh, I think. I might not even have to learn space theory. If I press on I can finish it today, and while it's by no means great, it will be done enough that I can check it off my mental list, with maybe a few hours devoted to it at the end for fixes. Oh, and to make it a conference paper. Because if there's one thing I want to do with my mediocre work, it's slap together a shortened version of it and read it aloud to my peers.

Con told me he was proud of me today. It made me happy. 

Today is going well. I'm going to press on for hopefully another three hours or so, but I'm happy with myself. With this paper under control, I can see the-I-Word-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named receeding over the horizon. Next in my line of sight is my Sister Carrie paper, which I had a meeting about today that went well. 

23 days between me and the summer. I'm actually incredibly excited about having a job, working...having money coming in and not just streaming out. You know how when you were little your inner tube would get a little hole, but you couldn't see it, and no matter what you patched the air would keep streaming out leaving your ass practically all the way in the water and you looking like an idiot? My bank account is like that inner tube. I can't wait to get another job and start the one I have lined up.

I got a mild sunburn yesterday reading on the Terrace. I know, I know, melanoma cancer death wrinkle blah blah blah, but it made me incredibly happy. It is warm enough outside to BURN me. After this winter, that's something to celebrate.

Standing on your mother's porch, you told me it would last forever

I'm so nostalgic lately. For like, everything. For college, of course, for Dime and fraternity parties and the days when I didn't drink and when I had more than one group of friends and no responsibilities and when getting a good grade was the height of my academic concerns. And for every summer of my life, with family vacations of varying successes, and working at Alapage all alone in Nashua waiting for Jeff to come in and pick me up so we could adjourn to The Garden, for driving along the coast on Rt 1 all the way from Hampton to Portsmouth, for being so unconcerned with everything.

I'm even nostalgic for high school, maybe that most of all, actually, because what I really miss is that sense that the world is amazing and that the simplest things are worth being excited about. For example, I remember being excited - SO excited - about chorus concerts. Chorus concerts were the shit. You dressed up, people looked at you, I usually sang a solo which was SUCH a big deal, you were with your friends at school late and night and could run around the halls even though you weren't supposed to, and afterwards someone's parents would lend them the car so we could all stay out late and eat ice cream at Blake's. When I started dating Mike I'd go out with him and his cool jazz band friends after shows, and *then*...then I would really feel cool. 

...I digress. The point is, nothing like that happens anymore. I don't feel like that anymore, even about the things that I probably could, if I was feeling more like myself. I know I still have it in me to feel wonder and giddiness about my life, it still happens every once and awhile. But man...when I was young it happened *all* the time. Going out with boys. I remember when going out with boys, going *anywhere* with boys, was monumental. The mall, the Garden, the movies, the park. I remember when going to someone's apartment was the most incredible thing in the world, because who lived alone? No one! I remember...

I remember being young. And innocent. And untarnished, and unjaded, and when becoming cynical was my biggest fear because my father told me that was something you never wanted to be. If I could add one thing back into my life, it would be that sense of wonder, of newness, of novelty. That's why it's so hard to convince myself the best days are yet to come - it's because no matter what happens, I won't feel about it like I used to. Or at least, right now it seems like I won't. But I supposed there's always hope.

...anyhow. The real reason for this post is that I think I have a topic - and argument! - for my Sister Carrie paper. More research is needed, but I'm feeling good. 

Finally...I feel it kicking in

One of my most memorable moments from the end of last semester is watching a Flight of the Conchords episode to wind down one night and having to pause the episode at one point to mull over the postcolonial implications of a particular scene. I'm fairly sure I blogged about it at the time. It made me feel like a huge stupid nerd, but it was still kind of a cool feeling, and very indicative of how incredibly wrapped up I was in the fury of the final weeks.

Well.

I'm watching Top Chef over dinner as a break from Sister Carrie and her terrifyingly-close-to-home vapidity, and my thoughts keep drifting over to the Hayden White article we discussed in class this week, and the way in which narrative is not something natural, and how weird it must be for these people to have their lives forced into a narrative arc, and on and on.

People, the end is nigh. 

Electric Earth

I keep wasting time on the internets.

But my draft is nearly ten pages, so I'm calling it done, sending it to HD and bowing my head to await the chopping.

And moving on to the papers I actually care about.

Of Jobs and Weekends

My weekend in DC was really great. We have our problems just like anyone, but Con's amazing, and he showed it. Romantic getaway in Old Town, nice dinner, adorable gift, hardcore study sessions...these are the things grad school romance is made of.

Also, today I secured summer employment! It's part time and I'll be looking for something else restaurant-y, but I am *so* excited about this job. It's watching two little girls, 3 and 7, who are both gorgeous and seem really fun, with distinct personalities, outgoing, interesting...it's going to be really nice for me. I miss being around kids so much that I've begun just staring hungrily at the cute ones I see in the street, which makes their parents uncomfortable, I'm sure. I just...love kids. I love them. Sometimes it makes me feel like a reject from the 50s, all housewife-y and such, but mostly it just makes me happy. I love kids and kids love everything, and it's a window into that kind of joy, when life was only possibilities and porcelain tea sets and glittery rock collections and bubbles, to name a few things these two girls reminded me I used to love. So it will be nice to spend a few days a week with these unbelievably cute kids (in their incredibly classy and well-appointed house, driving their parents' fairly nice car, lounging by the pool using the pool pass they bought me so I can watch the girls at their lessons, making 12 bucks an hour) reminding myself that life is still something that can inspire wonder and simple delight, and that someday I will have a family of my own.

And I still hate Shakespeare.

From a DC coffeehouse

Nearly 8 pages, and about to have steak for dinner.

Things could be worse.

(But these 8 pages probably couldn't be. Unless they just said "Shakespeare is SO smart!!!11" over and over.)

It's a World of Hopes, It's a World of Fears

It is a fucking small world, after all.

Example A) One of my close friends from college, someone who, though we grew apart in the final year, I was very close to, randomly met Con's best friend from home in NYC and now they hang out all the time.

Example B) I was friended on Facebook today by some dude I had a minor crush on in 7th grade and haven't seen since we left middle school, and he is also friends with a guy I met while I was visiting Jamie at Oxford. Across a fucking ocean.

Example C) my ex-boyfriend Jeff's roommate's cousin is a contestant on Top Chef. I was in the act of watching Top Chef when he told me this.

I can't tell whether to revel in the benevolent aura holding us all together or be fucking creeped out as shit.

We're a Capra Film With The Last Scene Missing

I don't care what you say, Andy, "Church of John Coltrane" is an awesome song. For that line alone!

Working. Today isn't going quite as well as I might have hoped, but it's only 6, after all. So far I've done a little reading for my OMF paper, taken a nap in a Barriques chair, eaten Indian food (duh, it's Tuesday), met with Caroline, taken a nap on the 4th floor and written a page more of Shakespeare. Sigh. I hate the end of the semester.

I'm going to be 24 soon. Ick.

But it will be 74 and sunny when I arrive in DC on Friday. Joyous. And Justin's taking me for a birthday dinner while Con's in class! Double joyness. Now if I could just get two more pages of this paper done...

Breaking Down the Berlin Wall That Is My Shakespeare Paper

Well, I may have less than four pages of critical research, but I have still taken the first step: opening a new document, formatting it, and writing my introduction. I am 1/10th done my draft requirement.

And totally taking Kevin's advice in terms of quality. Nonetheless...one incredibly, unbelievably infinitesimal step for Shakespeare scholarship as a whole (if not, honestly, a step backwards), one giant fucking step for me!

Impact

...wow Se, jie is an incredible movie. 

Shakesfeare

So after many hours of completely wasted time thinking about a paper topic on the Sonnets, and then maybe ten to fifteen hours of coming up with a completely new paper topic about Merchant of Venice, I think I have something I can work with. I spent three or so hours just working with the text and my lil' noggin, and wrote what amounts to an incredibly informal (at one point I paraphrase Lorenzo as saying "Dude, lay off, I had other shit going on"), 2 1/2-page version of my paper. It's not awesome, it's certainly not anything terribly original, but it's enough to get me a ten-page draft, whose comments will hopefully drag me to the finish line.

I'm not showing it to HD. Not only because it contains phrases like the one mentioned above, but also because I just cannot deal with anything else from her until the draft is complete. I know I can write a paper with a topic that will in the end be more or less what I am working with now, and so I'm just going to forge ahead with the draft and deal with her complete and utter disagreement with everything afterwards. Writing this paper is like pulling teeth. And fingernails. And something else that would be really hard and painful to pull. 

It's almost 7:30. I'm going to peruse some books and articles, write my email for my Meridian presentation, and then go home and thumb through OMF to remind myself what I'm writing that paper about.

But on the plus side, today reminded me that Madison can be somewhere I'm happy to live, and also that, when this semester staggers painfully to a close, I will have a summer of sunshine and terrace beers.

The Angel

Listening to the soundtrack, which somehow imbedded itself in my mind, I must see Lust, Caution again someday very very soon. If you want to watch with me, let me know. Even if you don't like it as much as I did, you'll know you saw a movie that touched me unexpectedly. And I always find getting that insight into others in interesting. My mother, for example, was inexplicably moved by both The Truman Show and The Talented Mr Ripley, so much so that she went to both several times alone in theatres. I've been to movies alone - it doesn't bother me - but I didn't go to LC alone again after seeing with Rush, and I wish I had. I just...it's awesome. I have to buy it and watch it again.

Is It Worth It? Lemme Work It...

So I can tell it's getting down to the wire, because I'm sitting here in Thieves with a stack of books for my HD paper (aka a panic attack disguised as pages) in front of me, and I'm blogging. Oh boy.

Today was alright, aside from the fact that I now have to work on this godforsaken paper. I went to the gym quite early, had a very tasty lunch with Andy (but no strenuous chewing!), enjoyed a good discussion in class, and received numerous heartwarming and hilarious messages from Chris Burns, a college friend I hadn't talked to in awhile. He's managed to somehow, despite living New York City, meet one of Con's best friends from home, and so we conversed about that, and about a few very memorable a cappella moments, and a few other memorable moments that did not involve a cappella but did involve copious amounts of rum and Cruel Intentions. Ah Chris. Ah college. Those were the days. So now I'm thinking about whether or not it's feasible to swing through NYC for a few days this summer to relive the magic that is the Tarsa-Burns tag team. AC, you've never seen me like this!

...school blows. I can see DC next weekend, but I can't think about it without dread. I can see summer in 6 weeks (6 weeks! God I'm fucked) but can't imagine it arriving without 1) failing something, 2) taking at least one incomplete or C) totally losing my mind. Or all three! I have been a triple threat lately, so we shall see.

I will now watch the video of Kevin's last 10 ham-filled seconds, then read MoV again, then probably panic so much I can't breathe and have to walk around outside, where I will be murdered, because apparently Madison is like that. Go Becca go.

Take This Sinking Boat and Point it Home

The Once soundtrack is still so awesome.

Pros: I think I have a topic for Shakespeare. I go to DC in a week and a half. It's my birthday soon. It will be 50 tomorrow. I have sweet friends. Tom was born 23 years ago today. Kevin barfed ham this weekend. My gym/new eating is working reasonably well. There are 6 weeks left of school.

Cons: My mouth hurts. I have to write 10 pages of my paper in the next week and a half. I'm about to be a year closer to the grave. It's still not fucking spring yet. Tom and Jamie are far away. I'm getting bored with the gym. There are 6 weeks left to write my three papers, give a presentation and write two more email posts.

It's about an even split. Indian soon is a plus, as is lunch with Andy tomorrow. I'll make it, I think. Just got to take it slow.