Monday, October 29, 2007
Tonight I ought to go to bed before midnight, for tomorrow I must finish preparing for Latin and Greek. Reading Propertius has required much less new vocabulary, and I have not yet found that he does anything too sneaky with grammar. Of course, I read only four or five of his poems this semester, but he wrote at least four books. Surely there exist more difficult ones.
Kleider machen Leute does not kill off its protagonists- the first piece of German literature I have read thus far that does not end in violent death. Most of the German text proceeds in a straightforward manner, although another student in class this morning pointed out that the sections where a particular character becomes particularly introspective become particularly difficult for the English-speaking reader. Within the next three or four days, I must sometime write a four-page paper auf Deutsch.
Now it is snuggle time with Kermie.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 9:22 PM]
The Empire Strikes Back
Friday, October 26, 2007
I ought to read more.
I ought to re-learn how to play the clarinet.
I ought to find a keyboard somewhere.
I ought to deface The Trojan Purse.
I ought to floss before bed.
I ought to discover the cure for leukemia.
I ought to smash the teeth of the bastard who stole my bike last July.
I ought to get a glasses/contacts prescription.
I ought to study German language syntax.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 8:51 PM]
Don't Look With Eagle's Eyes
Thursday, October 11, 2007
I have concluded that Propertius is my favourite Latin elegist, because his mistress, Cynthia, shrieks at him and scratches her face for attention- like a cutter. When I read Goethe's Roman Elegies last semester, I found his love-interest disappointingly accomodating, for the most part. One poem begins with his response to her complaints that the neighbors gossip about their affair, heaping reprobation upon her (but probably not Goethe). In a setting whereinwhich the two are in bed, apparently having just finished doing The Nasty, Goethe's effort at consolation is to roll over and assure his lover that he doesn't think she's cheap, anyway.
During my analysis of these lines, I looked up at den Grair Bär and said, "If anyone ever said that to me, I'd punch him in the neck." The sort of poetry that might inspire would probably never get published, but I would feel vindicated nonetheless.
Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon and early evening sifting through Classics graduate program websites, during which process I consumed two (2) Full Throttles (for consumer information, call 1-800-438-2653) and one (1) Chick-Fil-A sandwich (with pickles, for they are gross without pickles, and also with Chick-Fil-A's brand of fat-free honey mustard dressing, for dry chicken sandwiches schmecken mir nicht gut). Consequently, at bedtime I could not sleep and nearly ralphed up my lunch (I used to work with someone named "Raphael", who often went by "Ralph"; I explained early in our relationship that I could not call anyone "Ralph", because for me that connotes puke).
Unfortunately, though wide awake, I could not concentrate on the eighty-plus lines of Greek poetry I had been assigned. I remained alert until about three in the morning, completing house chores, sifting through old coursework for writing samples and grammar charts, updating the music library on my computer, and making periodic trips to the bathroom for the purpose of emptying a bladder full (in descending order of ingredient with most to least content) of carbonated water, taurine, citric acid, natural and artificial flavors, sodium citrate, sodium benzoate, ginseng extract, caffeine, acacia, acesulfame potassium, sucralose, carnitine fumarate, sodium saccharin, glyserol ester of wood rosin (mmm), niacinimide, yellow 5, pyridoxine hydrochloride, guarana extract, and cyanocobalamin. In all that time I completed not a single line.
I woke up at seven-thirty, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to work on Greek, which I did with utmost diligence until class at eleven.
This evening I have had one (1) java chip frappuccino (for I dislike coffee), one over-priced slice of raspberry-lemon coffee cake, one bag of cheddar-flavoured Combos (the official cheese-filled snack of Nascar), and one Full Throttle Unleaded (appropriately bottled in a silver-coloured can: Coca-Cola is a no-nonsense company). Provided my stomach does not reject the above brew, I should accomplish my goal for this evening of reading through the rhetorical features at the back of the Greek grammar, in preparation for an analysis of about ten lines that I am to prepare for class next Thursday.
End.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:18 PM]
An E-mail To My Best Friend's Mother
Monday, October 01, 2007
Hello, Kenny,
April informed me that you thought I was dead. My watch stopped two weeks ago, so I was dead for a couple of weeks. I finally found time this weekend past to revive myself with a Seiko watch, purchased at JCPenney's. It has a lovely, dark face (just like me!), with Roman numerals.
I hope that you are well, living la vida loca without April or me to terrorize you. Grandmother-, mother-, and wife-hood probably keep you busy, or at the very least, entertained. At the age I am now, my mother was incubating Ashlea. Yuck! I do enough horrible things to my body, without letting some monstrous demon-spawn tear it up.
Update (novella-length):
1. I would hate to be a mother, but I wouldn't mind being an aunt, and was elated to learn in February that Ashlea was expecting. Unfortunately, the baby had some chromosomal defect and died in utero. From what I can determine, Ashlea handled the situation well. She'll take time to recover, but still wants to have children, when she and Matt are better-situated. My other siblings seem to be getting along well enough, considering that they are the stepchildren of the family. At least Terri's a better mother, in most things, than my dad is a father. Michael loves his guitar, Kailey loves her piano, and Eddie Bob loves his trombone. It's so cute. I miss getting to be around, as they mature. Ashlea, Michael, and I grew up together, and considering all the pinching we did, nobody popped.
2. At the moment, I live in a backhouse behind the street that borders campus. I live in the upper loft, with a kitchen, bathroom, living, and sleeping areas. Below me, some girl just moved into the efficiency. She took my spot the other night, so I had to maneuver around a telephone pole to get in out of the alley. The next morning, the little princess left a note on my windshield: "Next time, would you please be so kind as to not park six inches from my car. Thanks." Pssh. My back end was close to her vehicle, but it was more approximately a foot-and-a half away: she had plenty of room to get into her car and to get out of the drive, whereas I had to do some crazy turning and squeezing to get around her car, the telephone pole, and a tree. I was completely caught off-guard by the fact that there was some strange vehicle parked in my spot; she should be grateful I didn't slam into her. Naturally, when I returned from work this evening, I parked very close to her precious vehicle. This only happens to be incidental, though- there isn't quite room for the both of us. She will have to be destroyed.
3. Schoolage: I took the GRE, scoring well on the verbal, flunking the analytical, and awaiting the results of the writing. I've been looking at grad schools, especially along the east coast. The University of Pennsylvania, at the moment, is my top choice. I also liked the programs at the University of Florida and the University of Michigan. Austin has a fine enough program, prestige-wise, but it seems rather too large and a bit impersonal. Of course, those and other factors could actually be stimulating, forcing me to change my approach and suchlike. We shall see. The graduate director here encouraged me to contact program directors with my CV, areas of interest, and a reading list from all of my language courses. Already having a significant amount of German experience will be what especially distinguishes me from other candidates. One of my German professors will be offering a seminar this summer on conducting graduate research in German, which is exactly what I need. I will save up my nickels and dimes to take it, in case I don't get grants.
4. Beginning last Friday, I am an employee-in-training at Schlotzky's: "Funny Name, Serious Sandwich", which, like the dark face of my watch, describes me perfectly. I closed tonight with two young-ish (but still older than me) men, whom I genuinely like, or can at least work well with. They engaged in a lovely switch-a-roo with Domino's, with the result that I drove home with free orders of buffalo wings and cinnastix. Schweet.
5. I am currently at the library. I bought a Gateway laptop from someone who works on campus in the IT department at the end of May. However, it doesn't connect to the Internet at my house. I called out the Suddenlink guy, who didn't seem to know what he was doing. I also called out an IT guy from the campus department, and then I called the guy who sold me the computer. Last night, I made a trip to Best Buy, warranty in hand. The computer customer service guy received a wireless connection and a hook-up connection fine, verifying that my computer cannot be the problem. So tomorrow I am going to call Suddenlink and cry.
6. A terrible thunderstorm shook my backhouse a few nights ago and almost made me cry, but I cuddled the plush Kermie Muppet Baby April gave me and felt much more secure.
The end.
-The Lauree Child
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 9:43 PM]