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Jan. 24th, 2006 02:32 pm*Dear Grey fleecy coat:
You are found. (Hurrah! You are ugly and unfashionable and quite the warmest thing ever. I missed you.)
Happily, Me.
*Dear Lit paper, I think I'm going to have to write you on The Sorrows of Young Werther, since although I love Pope I don't want to write about The Rape of the Lock, Taylor has too many clearly delinated ideas of his own on Gulliver's Travels, and none of the poems I looked ahead to last night grabbed and shook me. So I get to write about Werther, the Romantic Angst Monkey. (There's a good title; what d'you think?)
Resignedly, Me.
*Secondarily, my dear Augustus, I love you, but...I don't really know how to write about you. Perhaps, since Madsen loves you to death, I'll just praise you out your ears. And praise Tacitus.
That might be tricky, however...since Tacitus kind of hates you. Hmm.
Confusedly and amusedly, Me.
*Dear Mercedes Lackey books:
Why are you so lame and yet so entertaining? Just...why?
Lovingly, Me.
*Dear Philosophy Professor:
I feel really aggravated and somewhat disrespected that you have not shown up to class on time once this entire quarter--and then you proceed to keep us over most of the time, and rarely, if ever, give us a break.
I realize we have a lot of material to cover, but I see two solutions to that:
1. Stop repeating yourself so damn much. Also, stop saying it's really hard. Because the more you repeat yourself and say how hard it is, the more I get confused. I got Kant in the first half of class; the second half just messed me up.
2. Maybe, just maybe, if you showed up on time, we'd have, oh, fifteen extra minutes of work time. How's that for an idea?
Annoyedly, Me.
*Dear C-Street food:
Why are you horrific?
Disgustedly, Me.
And finally, on a happier note:
*Dear Dr. Earenfight:
You are possibly the coolest history professor under the sun. Having a senior seminar to read medieval monarchal texts and help you with your research sounds like the best class ever, and if I don't get in I may cry.
Admiringly, Me.
(Dear mood icon: I am not sure that is the right kind of calm. I am not after-happy-weird-marital-sex calm. I am given-up-caring-about-work-for-the-next-hour calm. I think there is a difference...*snerk*)
You are found. (Hurrah! You are ugly and unfashionable and quite the warmest thing ever. I missed you.)
Happily, Me.
*Dear Lit paper, I think I'm going to have to write you on The Sorrows of Young Werther, since although I love Pope I don't want to write about The Rape of the Lock, Taylor has too many clearly delinated ideas of his own on Gulliver's Travels, and none of the poems I looked ahead to last night grabbed and shook me. So I get to write about Werther, the Romantic Angst Monkey. (There's a good title; what d'you think?)
Resignedly, Me.
*Secondarily, my dear Augustus, I love you, but...I don't really know how to write about you. Perhaps, since Madsen loves you to death, I'll just praise you out your ears. And praise Tacitus.
That might be tricky, however...since Tacitus kind of hates you. Hmm.
Confusedly and amusedly, Me.
*Dear Mercedes Lackey books:
Why are you so lame and yet so entertaining? Just...why?
Lovingly, Me.
*Dear Philosophy Professor:
I feel really aggravated and somewhat disrespected that you have not shown up to class on time once this entire quarter--and then you proceed to keep us over most of the time, and rarely, if ever, give us a break.
I realize we have a lot of material to cover, but I see two solutions to that:
1. Stop repeating yourself so damn much. Also, stop saying it's really hard. Because the more you repeat yourself and say how hard it is, the more I get confused. I got Kant in the first half of class; the second half just messed me up.
2. Maybe, just maybe, if you showed up on time, we'd have, oh, fifteen extra minutes of work time. How's that for an idea?
Annoyedly, Me.
*Dear C-Street food:
Why are you horrific?
Disgustedly, Me.
And finally, on a happier note:
*Dear Dr. Earenfight:
You are possibly the coolest history professor under the sun. Having a senior seminar to read medieval monarchal texts and help you with your research sounds like the best class ever, and if I don't get in I may cry.
Admiringly, Me.
(Dear mood icon: I am not sure that is the right kind of calm. I am not after-happy-weird-marital-sex calm. I am given-up-caring-about-work-for-the-next-hour calm. I think there is a difference...*snerk*)
