September 12th, 2007

this is me

To read: War and Peace, Eugene Onegin, White Nights

A thought: should I pick up an English major? I already (more or less) have an English minor; I have credit for ENG 111 (Intro to the Short Story), ENG 113 (Intro to the Novel), ENG 238 (Intro to Linguistics), and I will soon have a variety of 300-level Russian Lit classes (which count as "World Literature" and as the concentration within the major). I'd need to take: 1 Brit Lit; 1 American Lit; ENG 209 (Writing About Literature); and ENG 498 (Senior Seminar). So if I overload next semester and take a couple classes summer '09, I'll graduate with a BA in Russian and English and a minor in French. But... I want to go to grad school to study Russian Literature. Seriously; would an English major really be worth the effort? Decisions, decisions.

I was at Wal-Mart paying for groceries and a can of Chicken Noodle soup fell off the cart and onto my toe. I'm in pain. It's not pleasant. I'm still able to walk, which is a plus. My feet are my main mode of transportation... without them, I'd be stuck on campus every day. Talking about things that aren't gonna happen! Brandy is trying to convince me to either join the French play or rush Phi Sigma Pi (honors fraternity) with her. I guess I'll be rushing Phi Sigma Pi.

I'm allergic to something in the classroom in which I have French Lit... probably the language. So today I was sitting there, minding my own business, with a runny nose, the sun shining on me, and drawing an octopus in my notes, and I realized: that class is fucking useless. It's like, what the fuck is the point? It's three weeks into the semester and we're STILL reading Le fucking Chanson de Roland out loud, like we're a bunch of six year olds. It's a fucking waste of time, man.

Quote of the day (or possibly the year): "You are the Trotsky to my Stalin." Erin totally summed up our friendship with those seven words. Except for the whole, y'know, Stalin-killing-Trotsky thing. But WHATEVER.
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