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]