When I look back at the semesters that I fucked this whole thing up, it was because I was definitely taking the wrong classes and overestimating my abilities. Now I am approaching this like a Luther song, taking it nice and slow, and not taking things because they sound smart (this has to be the only explanation for some of these choices, which sounds ridiculous, but I was young, dumb and full of Pabst, so there you go.)
The ice on the ground is unrelenting. It makes everything a chore. I hate it and when I graduate, I am moving back to California where I will never deal with this again. How can people live like this? Life is too short for this. I want to wear cute shoes and eat avocados all year round, not sensible shoes with good traction. Fuck that.
So. Classes! I am taking: a medieval literature class (with the same sassy prof who I took Medieval Women Writers with last time I was here, we used to call it Medieval Male Bashing), a biology class on nutrition which is one of those biology classes they have for English majors who can’t handle real science, abnormal psych, and a Creative Writing class, that’s gonna rule: two of the required texts are comics (Best American Comics 2009 & The Arrival)
I’m mostly worried about the medieval lit class. I have kind of a hard time with old language. Nothing makes me feel like more of an idiot. So, you know, if any of you reading this are classics dorks and want to rap, holla at me! First up: Virgil’s The Aeneid.
