tavie.com

School last night. Two classes.

1. Ancient Comedies in Translation - Tiny, stuffy room. Boring guy. He talks and talks without making any attempts to engage us, and I find my self-loathing quotient increase dramatically. Too stupid to be here, shouldn't be in college, want to drop out, I hate this school. Almost start crying.

2. Intro to Linguistics. Taken with my friend Terry. Large room. Professor engaging. I suspect she is one of those mad linguists who see prescriptive approaches to language as the last acceptable prejudice in our society. I sense arguments brewing from other students, theretofore unintroduced to the formal concepts (and conceits) of high and low registers of grammar. Suddenly stop hating self, find self interested in class. (Helps that I took an advanced linguistics course two semesters ago and aced it, so intro should be a breeze.)

Tonight: Modernist Poetry.

Now: Assload of work.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:24 AM | shower me with attention