Category Archives: college

college

Why Today is the Best Friday in a Long, Long Time

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1) I slept till almost 7. Woke up without an alarm.

2) I don’t have to work this weekend.

3) At approximately noon, I’ll be turning in two of my assignments, leaving me only with my paper for the Bear (which I actually sort of understand part of how Lacan and Foucoult and Freud apply, thus allowing me SOMETHING to write about with a source!) and a WHOLE WEEK TO WRITE IT IN!!!

4) My day’s plans consist of finishing up those assignments, turning it in, getting jacked up on Starbucks, and coming home to get started on The Bear’s paper. And a nap, somewhere in there.

5) I have clean sheets.

6) Did I mention I don’t have to work this weekend? Next weekened, either, for that matter.

Eight days til graduation. Good heavens, I never thought I’d be this close.

college

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

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I have one paper down, the Shakespearean thing that isn’t anywhere near as good as I wanted to be.

But it’s done.

I’m working on my paper that started out being about Kate Chopin (and, oddly, I haven’t written anything about her at all yet) and is now ass-deep in the exchange of information and relationship building.

It’s been eye-opening, for sure. I still have no understanding of Lacan or how that will play into it, but I am writing up a storm.

11 days, and I’ll be done, done, having walked across the stage, not losing my temper because I didn’t graduate magna cum laude (despite having the GPA, but that’s another rant for another time).

I’ll be done, done, and I never have to think about USM again. Except when I go to work there this summer. I’ve signed on to continue tutoring (at the abysmally low rate, stupid me) until I find a “real job.” While I don’t mind tutoring, I’d much rather be making a wage that is more than what I was making as a non-degreed.

But anyway.

Marie called, asked me if I remembered they were having a birthday party for me this weekend.

I didn’t.

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college

First Paper

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So I’ve been struggling all morning trying to finish my first paper that’s due today. Still more to do with the class, but this is the beginning of the end. I struggled all weekend and had trouble with it.

I struggled last night and fell asleep. I woke up at 430 this morning and struggled with it again.

And I can’t write.  I am saying the same stupid crap in different stupid ways. Over and over.

And I realized…this is the part where I panic, where I pace and drink much coffee and smoke dangerous amounts of cigarettes as a means of coping with the stress of so much writing.

I refuse to smoke, so it would appear that I can’t write.  I’m getting that “Just one won’t hurt you, and you’ll be able to write” voice in my head.

But I know what happens when I just have one.

I want to scream. Seriously.

It doesn’t help that it’s writing about writing, which is the dullest topic ever.

ARGH.

college

Aroo?

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So, a momentary panic set in when I went to order my cap and gown. No big deal, it passed.

It wasn’t until I sat down with the Bear to meet for our independent study and tried to schedule future meetings with him so that there was none of the confusion that has seemed to plague us of late.

And, as I looked at the calender, I realized that there are officially six weeks left in the semester. Two of them are reserved for finals. I have four weeks left of school.

Four weeks. Four!

So, yeah, the panic has begun, a bit early this time, I think. But then again, there are other contributing factors.

We read Othello for Shakespeare again, and I realized that I liked Othello far better than Cymbaline (which utterly, utterly sucked in its ending, by the way) or anything else we’ve read so far this semester.

And Jenny says I’ll make it, and Jenny’s never wrong.

But right now I’m really starting to wonder.

college

Extra Days

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Today’s the 29. I can’t believe it’s the end of February already. “At least you got an extra day this semester,” my mom said. I’m guessing she meant “to do work.”

Because that makes so much difference.

In two weeks, I’ll be on Spring Break, and after blinking about three times, the semester will be over. I’ll be donning black-and-gold.

I’ll have some letters after my name.

Wow.

I have no idea what my life will be like in 60-some odd days. No idea.

But it’s Friday, and I have a long time between then and now. I finally have an idea for a paper with the Bear (20-odd pages, so-un-yay): Secrets in women’s writing. I’m not sure how it will work, but I’ve read a ton of short fiction by Kate Chopin, Sara Orne Jewett, Mary E. Dunbar Perkins (or something like that), and there are so many secrets within their stories.

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college

Sunday Something

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I was going to write about spirituality today. I was going to write about my “Keys to the Kingdom” class and the impact its commitment has had on me. I was write as smoothly as I’d ever written, connecting my kitty commitment to self-commitment to spiritual commitment to whatever-commitment.

But I can’t. I’m too excited. In fact, right now, I’m too excited to do much of anything, including sleep.

That’ll probably bite me in the butt later. But for now it’s fine, just fine. In fact, it’s better than fine.

As I was stumbling and fumbling around after a one hour nap between work and church, unbeknownst to me, my Gmail account was being assaulted by an insistence to give me money.

For writing, at that. Today, I officially became a paid writer.

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college, Shakespeare

Oh Cymbaline

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It’s a little too soon to say. Er. Okay, so it’s so-very-too-soon to say, considering I haven’t read any of the play yet.

But I sniff potential. Cymbaline might be my all-time favorite Shakespeare play yet, judging by the article “Misperception in Cymabline” by Cynthia Lewis.

The article ends thusly:

No play appears sloppier at first, and yet few transform before our eyes into such an elegant example of elegant design. Cymbeline, by blinding us at every turn, fools us into seeing anew.

Funny, but before the beginning of this semester, I hadn’t even heard of it.

college, literature

Ferrets and Pron

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As you may have noticed, I’m rather fixated on this Cassie Edwards thing, and Smart Bitches in general.

Newsweek has picked it up, and one of the people that she has “allegedly” plagiarized has spoken up. The guy isn’t an expert on Native American life. She’s opted to “allegedly” steal (covering my tush, thanks!) hotter material than that.

He’s a ferret guy. She stole from a ferret guy. How can someone in good conscience steal from a ferret guy? His name is Paul Tolme and the write up is here at Newsweek. He’s a wildlife journalist and wrote an article about how the US government was harming the small black-footed ferret population in an attempt to kill prairie dogs.

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Plagiarism Part II

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Not what I wanted to write about today (I guess I’ll get to that ‘later’), but here’s an updated statement from Signet regarding the Cassie Edwards thing:

Our original comments were based on Signet’s review of a limited selection of passages. We believe the situation deserves further review. Therefore we will be examining all of Ms. Edwards’ books that we publish, and based on the outcome of that review we will take action to handle the matter accordingly.  We want to make it known that Signet takes any and all allegations of plagiarism very seriously.

It’s found here, and was apparently emailed to Smart Bitch Sarah.

Somehow I missed it when I was first checking out their site.

I can’t give the Smart Bitches enough kudos. Seriously.

Who knows what will happen, but they’ve seriously, seriously, seriously impressed me.

Go, go, gadget girls!

college

Plagiarist, Plagiarist, Wherefore Art Thou, Plagiarist?

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I couldn’t resist. I just couldn’t. Especially when I looked at a certain MySpace page, but now I’m getting ahead of myself.

For the record, Henry VI is still glaring at me.

Yesterday in class, Professor F-Dawg (so named because he drops the F-bomb so tenderly) gave the advanced comp class a presentation on plagiarism.

I wish I could say I didn’t learn anything, but it wouldn’t be true.

But Doc F-Dawg showed us this website in class: Smart Bitches Who Love Trashy Books. Now, given that Mike and I spent some of our paper-writing time devising a means to teach a collegiate class on slutty romance novels, this struck my fancy. I thought about Mike right away.

Now, the premise behind the site is that smart chicks like smart romance novels, and so the authors of the sites weed the good from the bad.

Now, that’s not the reason F-Dawg showed us this in class. It was because Cassie Edwards, romance novelist extraordinaire, was accused of plagiarism.

Continue reading Plagiarist, Plagiarist, Wherefore Art Thou, Plagiarist? →