Fuck a duck… this is the last time I take 5 freaking classes I swear. I’m taking a break from my essay, because I have read it so many times it doesn’t make any sense any more. I’ve also been trying, without success to formulate a thesis while I write. Bad idea. I just want to run around in a circle and rip my hair out and call it an interpretive dance. Grade me on that Professor, really. I’m done.

I want to go back in time and kick Nathaniel Hawthorne in the butt. Not that it would do me any good, because I’d have to write a paper regardless, but I’d feel better. I mean “It is also possible that Beatrice’s verdant appearance is an indication of a fear of entrapment by rampant female power” cannot be a good sentence… verdant? My mind has left the building.

Did one of my presentations today, and aside from the fact that I suffered from dry-mouth and motored right through it like it was a race, I think I did ok. I hate getting up in front of people to talk, but I think I am getting better. I don’t know what it is but I can’t seem to get over the nervousness. Even when I speak in class – voluntarily – I will go red. I can feel my face change colour when I do it even though I’m pretty sure that no one is even looking at me. Confidence used to be an issue. There was a point where I’d not even be able to ask a gas station attendant for directions, or anything. Don’t have that problem anymore. Also don’t have problems asking questions if I don’t understand – except maybe in that one poetry class where everyone was so clique-y and judgmental and I knew it. (Why is it that females are so much more judgmental and catty regarding their peers? Is that a product of our media-drive over-competitive approach to sex-appeal?)

I just want next week to be over.

Sad thing though, this semester is my last fiction workshop. This means no more of some of my favourite people and I don’t know how to ask for email addresses without sounding… bad. Wrong adjective. Too tired I think. There are two or three people I’ll miss lots. Not the least of which is the one whose mind I want to eat with a spork… not literally, geez, but I’m going to miss talking to him about whatever random things that come along. I like that he can keep up with and anticipate and go further with concepts and not lose me in the process. Dammit, to be blunt, it’s nice to have a nice solid friendly debate about things with an incredibly intelligent person where I don’t get the impression that I’m being judged or measured in any way. It’s refreshing. And the other one, I think his mind exists in another continuum, but it’s terrible fun to talk to him and see where we end up. reminds me of some of the interesting conversations I’ve had with Lindsie and Nomes.

Oh, oh – speaking of which I’m supposed to tell everyone to go to Vertigo saturday night cuz said weirdo is doing some funky visuals for the band that plays that night. We’re talking that nifty altered video stuff that can get really trippy. In case your wondering, ‘wierdo’ is a good thing. LOL.