No more blogging embargo. Note: this post is split into two parts 1) school stuff 2)non-school stuff. Just call me efficient...saving time for those of you who don't give a shit about academia.
The Watertower paper is 99.8% done. I haven't done this much intellectual bleeding in ages. Ironic indeed that the most difficult paper I've written in graduate school is for a class on picture books--one of those subjects that most people wouldn't piss on if it was on fire. I see this horrible paper as a dry-hump...err, run...for my thesis. Why you ask? Because it's an asswhip, and against my better judgement I'm bringing together VERY disparate threads of meaning into one cohesive reading. It makes me wanna die. But I think it might just be damn good after I'm done rolling around in it.
Last week I was getting out of my sexy car to go into the Hall of Languages when one of my profs caught up with me. She's on my thesis committee (which I forgot to mention here last week...I have a thesis committee now. Three good profs...everyone I wanted) and was wondering if I'd like to be her assistant in the Fall. I said absolutely yes. If it works out (not a done deal yet) I'll be teaching her Children's Lit section part of the time and doing grunt work part of the time. The only down side of this: Fall is gonna be a beating. Here's the way it's shaping up:
9 hours of coursework:
Problems in Adolescent Lit
Multi-Ethnic Graphic Narrative (independent study under another committee member)
Throwing a conference
Teaching one section of English 101...freshman composition
Being assistant to Dr. R if it goes through (not approved yet)
Other stuff I do outside of school (zine, social life, writing my own shit, watching House)
"Bricks" otherwise known as library committee stuff
In other news, I received my luscious goods from Amazon yesterday. I ordered the PostSecret book, Dave Matthews' solo album, Some Devil, and Siri Hustvedt's book of essays, A Plea for Eros. I love getting good stuff in the mail. Good stuff generally means anything other than a Capital One credit card offer (bastards) or loan consolidation materials (bigger bastards).
When the mail arrived I was sitting in the sunroom reading The Gun Seller and drinking green tea. I quickly unwrapped my goodies and hauled ass back out to the sunroom with the PostSecret book and read that bitch cover to cover in an hour. Given, it's not a lot of text, but I still surprised myself by eating it up so fast.
My mom and I ventured out to "Foxfest" today. My hometown has this little festival every year. There's a parade, vendor booths, food, dunking booth, food, kids and rednecks, pets, food, a blood drive, food. If you've ever seen Funny Farm, it's sort of like that town festival where Chevy Chase ends up in the fishing tournament, knocks a guy out, and ends up swimming to shore where he finds out he owes $4,000 on a funeral for a guy who was buried in his garden. Quirky...that's the word I'm looking for.
In just a few short hours I saw a sleeping hedgehog wearing a bow, a goat in a bikini, more catfish than is usually observed on land, several family members, a woman who wants me to marry her son (and I don't want to marry her son), and a friend from undergrad whom I haven't talked to in ages. She and I will be doing sushi soon and catching up. Overall it was a good time. Just bizarre. But that's to be expected in small town Texas.
Now I'm off to shower and read fun stuff. I refuse to start another paper until tomorrow.
Reading: The Gun Seller
Thinking: That my nose itches.