suffering fools
03.30.05 @ 8:28 p.m.
I really, truly need to stop going for the "so full that eurgh god I'm so sick, so sick" thing when I eat. I made my special pasta dish I made up last year for the first time in quite a while, and ate two pretty big bowls of it. Now I just want to sleep. I've been doing this a lot lately, to the point where I'm not even surprised that I feel grotesquely fat.
I don't think I ever mentioned that I bought a double Who album, My Generation and Magic Bus. I wouldn't have bought it, but there's a song (one song!) that I've never heard called "Jekyll and Hyde" or something like that. It's an Entwistle song, of course. Magic Bus is an interesting compilation, in that it combines a bunch of songs, seemingly at random. Hell, it has "I Can't Reach You" and "Our Love Was" on it, as well as "Disguises," "Doctor, Doctor," "Bucket T," "Happy Jack," and "Pictures of Lily."
It's a little bit of a puzzle, but I remember reading about it and how it was put together by the label rather than anyone in the band or its management.
Rachel sent me a fragment of fanfic that she started, which of course puts me back in mind of fanfics past and characters I don't use anymore. I think I might have even had a dream about Mike last night. Back in our heavy fanfic periods, I'm glad I had someone who would always read what I wrote and for whom I would read pretty much anything. Good times, those were. I know she's writing mostly for catharsis, but I still think in terms of plot and such. Still, it's hard to try to say "Don't write about the good times, that isn't at all interesting to read. It's the turmoil that makes a compelling story."
It would seem that I am going to end up with a fuckton of reading this term. Not only do I have a massive stack of detective novels, but also a multitude of feminist manifestos, large swaths of the Norton, but not, luckily, much to read in Geology.
I felt so awful and embarassed to be in a 100-level lab. How can you not feel old when you're in a class full of freshmen? How do you not feel like you've done something wrong to be thrust back three years in time? Then, like an idiot, I managed to forget that I have lecture, went into the right classroom at the wrong time BECAUSE of it, but fortunately left when I saw all the people sitting with French workbooks on their desks. Hmmm. This is not Intro to the English Major part 3, is it? Which, incidentally, I strongly dislike, at least the discussion section. The GTF is timid and not very clever. I hate that they fear telling a student he or she is wrong. Like the fuckwit in class today during a group close reading (ye gods do I hate close reading, especially the "we're going to hold your hand because you clearly cannot think on your own" method used in the 220s) who declared that one meaning of "forge" was "to cross, like crossing a river." No, you FUCKING IDIOT, to cross a river is to FORD it. Didn't you ever play Oregon Fucking Trail? I bit my tongue, though, and I probably shouldn't have, because we carried on with the improper definition. Then there's this horrible woman, whom I will call "Fat Religious Zealot" or FRZ. I've had several classes with her in the last two terms, and she's in both Intro and Detective Fic with me. I hate her, but I talk to her because she's someone I know and I'm too polite to straight up cut her. (In the Regency meaning of "cutting" someone, which is to ignore them socially in a cruel and obvious manner.) Today she told me that she had "problems" with the Harry Potter series for "religious reasons" which is the most fucking idiotic thing ever. She was surprised they were good (she's taking Teen Lit and has to read HP3), and I said they were just English mythology regurgitated. SHE'S SO NARROW MINDED. I hate it, because she's not only ignorant and preachy, she's extremely vocal about her stupidity. "Hulaghbulagh," she might as well be saying, "I cannot tell the difference between a Renaissance definition of Humanism and the modern religious definition! And I'm going to get offended by my own inability to do so!"
So yeah. A lot of hateful people, or maybe just me in a mood to find everyone hateful, except Ridiculously Hot Owen. Damn! And he so looks like an English major, too. Kind of scruffy, scarf... Aitch-Oh-Tee-Tee.
Now that Lost is over (W... T... F...! More mystery of Locke! Lots of new temptation for Charlie! Craziness of all sorts! I can only wish that there hadn't been such a long period of reruns and now I don't feel like I'm in the thick of it anymore), I should read the two pieces I was assigned for Theories and Fictions of the Women's Movement. I ordered all the books today (the main text from Amazon, used, the three novels from Powell's), but for the next week or so all the reading is online anyway.
After five hours of class today, just one and a half hours, even in a feminism course (I'm maybe a little hard on students of feminism, but I think I'm hard on a lot of die-hard theory students) sounds delicious.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
