estrogen & epithets

Or be humbled by others...

"Because of you I will never look at the Butte the same way again, I will always lock my car doors while stopped in the middle of nowhere, I am a better Mao player, I have an incredible rosary, I appreciate people's differences more, and realize that they can actually bring us closer together. Because of you, I've realized that coffee dates can last for four hours, I've laughed so much. Because of you I have a true friend."

Thank you, Aimee.

If these were the last five books on Earth, I think I could get by just fine.

I am deathly afraid of my Brit Lit professor.

Well, until today.

The time to schedule classes for Winter and Spring is upon us, here at The College of Idaho.  Meaning, ya'll better be meeting with your advisers.  Lucky me, I get that adviser that I fear most. 

I'm scared because he grades my papers--he sees what a sham I am, and I'm just positive that he will call me out, and demand my immediate removal from the premises.

I get to his office--and he knows my name, and he has a gigantic Much Ado About Nothing movie poster on his wall, so Kenneth Branagh is smiling down on me the entire time; and the Prof is impressed by my preparedness, and he's excited for my Modern Art class, and he asks me how Greek is going; and he is surprisingly un-scary.

It was a kick in the pants--a trouser punt.

Now I'm all planned out for the year--

Greek Language & Literature II

Theories and Methods of the Study of Literature
Marlowe/Shakespeare/Jonson
20th C British Literature
Modern Art after 1940
New Testament Introduction
Greek Readings

I'm ecstatic, and I'm raring to go!

John Milton, "On Shakespeare"

What needs my Shakespeare for his honored bones
To labor of an age in piled stones,
Or that his hallowed relics should be hid
Under a star-ypointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
For, whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art
Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book
Those Delphic lines with deep impression took,
Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving,
Dost make us marble with too much conceiving
,And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie
That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.

The heater makes the smoke detector wail.

Under circumstances that did not include a 52 degree rainy day, I could make a joke of that, but...well, I'm cold.  But mostly, the heater has just gotten me mad.  I have cleaned the filter, and,m if the heater would open more, I would more than attempt to eradicate the dust build up in the coils inside.  But the heater is against me.

And while I try to keep myself from going postal, and blaming the school for freakin' installing a heater that cannot be cleaned (one more reason to hate the school, right?), I look out the window at the chilly, rain soaked yard of the College of Idaho, I am reminded, almost violently, of Bosch's triptych, The Garden of Earthly Delights.  The outer painting depicts the world after the flood, which, obviously, should lead me to a post about God's love, but, rather, reminds me that things here at the school--They are going to get better.  I just gotta hold out.

And change my major to Art History.