Monday, May 15, 2006
And it all begins again...
Did I mention I'm taking a May-mini course? That's right, bitches, 11 days of 4.5 hour classes. I'll be up to my eyeballs in short-story-to-film adaptations Monday through Thursday from 1:00-5:30 (or maybe a little later according to the brilliant fucking slavedriver at the helm). My mother informed me tonight that I'm a masochist
1) because I'm taking a class a mere 4 days after the others ended
2) because I like all the obscure zero-respect fields within literature..namely Children's lit and graphic narrative. What can I say? I apparently like struggle and obscurity. It's the artist figure in me that secretly wants to stick her head in the oven.
So in this particular course, we each choose a short story and its film adaptation we want to teach. I chose Daniel Clowes' graphic narrative, Ghost World and the resulting oh-so-fucking-fabulous film starring Thora Birch, Scarlett Johansson (before her breasts and her Tanya Tucker voice got her famous), and the effervescent Steve Buscemi (who, oddly enough, looks like Peter Parker's wife). It should be a good time.
In other news, I managed to scam an A in both of my classes. I checked this afternoon and they were both (finally) posted. Why scam? Because I feel like a total fraud most of the time. Someday someone will figure out that I'm not smart and take away my "English Nerd" membership card which assures me the right to analyze literature.
I'm actually--secretly in the depths of my ashen heart--glad to be taking a class. Without intellectual stimulation I turn into a horrible person who mumbles a lot, snaps the heads off of innocent bystanders, and generally thinks she's done nothing of value with her life and if she died tomorrow people would not attend the funeral.
Listening: 30 Seconds to Mars..."The Kill"
Watching: Blank TV screen
Reading: Lots of short stories
In my head: Lymph backup (generally centralized to my nose piercing)