Wednesday, September 8, 2004

Itchy itchy itchy

Bugs love me. Despite being stung and swollen for a week during Red Shirt season, fleas or some little bugs attacked my feet in the shower (the middle toe on my right foot was bitten 4 times), and then last night little swollen itchy circles were on both of my calves, knees, and where the bee stung me. I thought I was either allergic to something, something was in my blood giving me these weird rashes, or something. Anyway, it subsided.

I've just completed my first of the last of my first weeks at school EVER (as far as I can tell). It was a little hectic because there just seems like a lot more stuff to do this year. I fell into my little hole of solitude today because I did more work than I really had to for a response paper about "The Waste Land." So now it'll be forever unread and unappreciated and will probably end up in the garbage in 5 years. So'kay. Right now I'm taking 7 courses, and I'm figuring things out with Simon & Schuster. However, I have a good feeling that S&S won't work out because I can't contact the woman who called me. It's okay though. I really should work on my thesis.

My thesis, I hope, will be Metafiction in Children's literature. But I don't really understand metafiction, and I don't read a lot of children's literature for fun. I'm a little bit in a bind I guess. Meanwhile, I feel like working on a chapter of Infinite Jest, Eats, Shoots and Leaves, and The Namesake among the other "fun reads" I brought with me. Perhaps I can connect them all, somehow.

This entry is a little boring. I'm going to include the story I wrote at last night's SCRU meeting:

At Alumni: Sept. 7, 2004, around 12:30 AM
The boy at the computer looking at his NYU schedule, probably figuring out where his classes are for today. He had shoulder length brown hair and very fair skin. Two computers sat on a table on either side of a printer with a pink printed sign that read, "This printer is out of order." As Jon and I got onto the elevator, the boy got up and said to the security guard, who had my Columbia ID--the only ID where my hair looks decent. The boy got up and said, "I like your tunes!" The security guard didn't see him so the boy tapped again and repeated. But the security guard couldn't hear him, so the security guard came around from the office--which reminded me a lot of a movie ticket booth I once saw but bigger. He said, "What?" The boy said, "I like your tunes." The guard said, "Yeah? It's Marvin Gaye." The elevator closed on a happy note.
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