I Live
The internet has returned to my life. All should be right with the world, but I discovered this week what I've thought in the back of my brain for a great while: the internet is like a drug, and in actuality I don't need it. I am, however, addicted; I like my internet, as I like my coffee and my Pepsi, and I will continue to use it--if only for my morning routine of Megatokyo, Applegeeks, and SG. Rejoice!
My minor snarkiness aside, I was far more productive this week than I have been in a great while. I moved (and it was Hell). I unpacked...kind of. I read a book. And, miracles of miracles, all of my coursework was finished on time. Go figure.
(Oh, in case you haven't noticed yet, this entry is going to be all over the place.)
I would talk about the move but there isn't much to say, except that I started at 10 a.m. last Saturday and didn't finish until 4:30 a.m. on Monday morning. I was anticipating a Quick & the Dead-style showdown with my mother, tumbleweed, pistols and all, but my father mercifully absorbed most of her ire before she reached my building. What I still can't figure is why she's such a Janus sometimes. I called her on the phone to allow her to scream at me (while remaining far outside of her reach with a kitchen knife) and she was nothing but pleasant. Her e-mails and voicemails were vicious, though. Pick one.
The book? It was Gaiman's Stardust. It was okay.
My *first* summer term started on Tuesday. I'm taking Basic Drawing, Principles of Macroeconomics, and Contemporary Poetry. Summer I is only seven weeks long, though, so having three courses actually means that I'm overloaded. Oddly, I don't mind that much. Granted, I'd rather shove needles through my eyes than go to Macro four times a week (for 200 minutes)m but *shrug* thems the breaks.
Contemporary Poetry is the first course that I've been excited about in a long, long time. My excitement has more to do with the professor than the subject matter. You see, CP is taught by Northeastern's High Lich of Poetry, D.Joseph DeRoche, and he is hands-down the best teacher that I've ever had. I liked him so much after taking his Poetry Workshop course last summer that I made POEE take it, too. (Coincidentally, DeRoche liked Gray's work so much that he wants to "get [him] into Iowa," which is rad by any standards.) Yesterday we learned about the Beats. Here's my favorite part of the lecture:
DeRoche: <talking about Allen Ginsberg; mentions Jack Kerouac>
Valley Girl: So, like, I just read On the Road last semester. I was wondering, since it came out around the same time as, like, Allen Ginsberg, and, like, well... Ginsberg had probably read Kerouac, right? Did, like, Ginsberg draw from Kerouac, y'think?
DeRoche: No, Allen slept with Jack--which is something else entirely.
There's of course more as to why I *heart* DeRoche. For now, you'll just have to take my word for it; I vouche for his awesomeness.
Ramble, ramble, on and on I go!
I randomly received a check in the mail from the good Reverend Monsignor, a.k.a Uncle Jimmy. My first thought was to spend it on a nice dinner. Since I've no one to take--and considering, also, that the check represents money never factored into my most recent budget--I've decided to use it to buy some presents. There are a few people across the country(-ies) and throughout cyberspace who I figure deserve a small care package. So, this weekend begins Project Super Fun Happy Present Time. Will the pony express be good to you? Only time will tell!
I've more to say, but this entry is already quite long and I've yet to peruse my friends' journals. I'll end with: Welcome back, Dan. Thank you. Thank you very much.
Edit: My best friend (POEE)moved home to TN on Saturday. That was a lot harder to deal with than I thought it would be. Damn, I miss him already.
The internet has returned to my life. All should be right with the world, but I discovered this week what I've thought in the back of my brain for a great while: the internet is like a drug, and in actuality I don't need it. I am, however, addicted; I like my internet, as I like my coffee and my Pepsi, and I will continue to use it--if only for my morning routine of Megatokyo, Applegeeks, and SG. Rejoice!
My minor snarkiness aside, I was far more productive this week than I have been in a great while. I moved (and it was Hell). I unpacked...kind of. I read a book. And, miracles of miracles, all of my coursework was finished on time. Go figure.
(Oh, in case you haven't noticed yet, this entry is going to be all over the place.)
I would talk about the move but there isn't much to say, except that I started at 10 a.m. last Saturday and didn't finish until 4:30 a.m. on Monday morning. I was anticipating a Quick & the Dead-style showdown with my mother, tumbleweed, pistols and all, but my father mercifully absorbed most of her ire before she reached my building. What I still can't figure is why she's such a Janus sometimes. I called her on the phone to allow her to scream at me (while remaining far outside of her reach with a kitchen knife) and she was nothing but pleasant. Her e-mails and voicemails were vicious, though. Pick one.
The book? It was Gaiman's Stardust. It was okay.
My *first* summer term started on Tuesday. I'm taking Basic Drawing, Principles of Macroeconomics, and Contemporary Poetry. Summer I is only seven weeks long, though, so having three courses actually means that I'm overloaded. Oddly, I don't mind that much. Granted, I'd rather shove needles through my eyes than go to Macro four times a week (for 200 minutes)m but *shrug* thems the breaks.
Contemporary Poetry is the first course that I've been excited about in a long, long time. My excitement has more to do with the professor than the subject matter. You see, CP is taught by Northeastern's High Lich of Poetry, D.Joseph DeRoche, and he is hands-down the best teacher that I've ever had. I liked him so much after taking his Poetry Workshop course last summer that I made POEE take it, too. (Coincidentally, DeRoche liked Gray's work so much that he wants to "get [him] into Iowa," which is rad by any standards.) Yesterday we learned about the Beats. Here's my favorite part of the lecture:
DeRoche: <talking about Allen Ginsberg; mentions Jack Kerouac>
Valley Girl: So, like, I just read On the Road last semester. I was wondering, since it came out around the same time as, like, Allen Ginsberg, and, like, well... Ginsberg had probably read Kerouac, right? Did, like, Ginsberg draw from Kerouac, y'think?
DeRoche: No, Allen slept with Jack--which is something else entirely.
There's of course more as to why I *heart* DeRoche. For now, you'll just have to take my word for it; I vouche for his awesomeness.
Ramble, ramble, on and on I go!
I randomly received a check in the mail from the good Reverend Monsignor, a.k.a Uncle Jimmy. My first thought was to spend it on a nice dinner. Since I've no one to take--and considering, also, that the check represents money never factored into my most recent budget--I've decided to use it to buy some presents. There are a few people across the country(-ies) and throughout cyberspace who I figure deserve a small care package. So, this weekend begins Project Super Fun Happy Present Time. Will the pony express be good to you? Only time will tell!
I've more to say, but this entry is already quite long and I've yet to peruse my friends' journals. I'll end with: Welcome back, Dan. Thank you. Thank you very much.
Edit: My best friend (POEE)moved home to TN on Saturday. That was a lot harder to deal with than I thought it would be. Damn, I miss him already.
Oh, and I'd be interested in hearing about your dream, naturally.
It seems awfully early for a summer term. I'm not entirely sure that it's even spring yet.