Burning out

Ugh, I cannot think of a thing to write about tonight. How about some stream-of-consciousness writing? Yes, that will work. Stream-of-consciousness always makes me think of Virginia Woolf and her novel "To the Lighthouse." Oh, how I HATED that book. I thought it was so boring and it made no sense when I had to read it for AP English. Then, as fate would have it, I had to read it again in college! I don't remember what class it was for but I suspect it was for the class where I had to do a presentation on Rudyard Kipling and I did the most pitiful research ever (i.e., next to none) and when I presented my information, the professor said "Oh, really? I didn't know that he wrote that" when I claimed his authorship of some poem that Rudyard Kipling did NOT write and then I later found out that my professor was some kind of Rudyard Kipling scholar. BAHAHA. Ah, college. You were so much fun. I do not know that I learned very much from you but I certainly had a good time.

Another class that I had some trouble with was theater. That class should have been fun. It was not. My roommate, Leslie and I took it together during winter term which was this 6 week term where you had the same classes every day. I did not enjoy winter term. Anyway, it was held in the lobby of the theater which meant we all had to sit on the floor so Leslie and I decided that laying (lying? what kind of English teacher am I?) on the floor was preferable to sitting up. Sometimes theater class was naptime. Leslie says that what she remembers most about theater was my breath because it was a combination of black coffee and blue Extra gum. I remember our professor who was this very fussy man who acted like he was leaving for Broadway the next day and wore ankle boots quite a lot and then one time, Leslie and I saw a Payless sticker on the bottom of his boot. Also, Leslie and I were assigned to gather props for a production and one of Leslie's assigned props was a bottle of wine. I don't think we were 21 yet so she had to get a bottle of cooking wine from her grandmother (who does NOT drink) and we tasted it and it must have been about 20 years old and also, yellow. Also, Leslie left her props sitting in the middle of the stage one night because I think she missed the deadline to turn them in. And then we went to the costume department and tried on hats (and maybe borrowed one that looked like it belonged on "Mama's Family").

Another class, which I also had with Leslie (and Kimberly) was Modern English Grammar. I HATED that class. It was also during winter term (seeing a pattern?) and it was at 8:30 every stinking day. Anyway, we were slogging through a lecture or something and Kimberly was whispering (not very quietly) to Leslie and all of a sudden the professor YELLED, "Would you please SHUT UP?" to her and I almost fell through the floor I was so scared. Kimberly said, "Oh, I'm so sorry," but I thought she had a tone (which she says she did not) and I almost vaporized that time because I was so scared. Then I made a D in the class and I learned that maybe I should have been sitting by different people.

And finally, a ridiculous conversation that David and I had this morning. There was a lot of racket going on outside which was because the construction workers were using a Bobcat at 6:30 in the morning.
Me: What in the world is going on outside?
D: I don't know, but it's pissing me off!
Me: We're already up. It doesn't really matter.
D: But what if we WEREN'T?