November rain

It's a lovely cold rainy day (or night, really), and I'm cozy and comfortable with some French indie pop, a bowl of hot dim sum, and a pair of voluminous pink flannel jammies with penguins on them. Really, what else could I ask for, besides a cup of tea and a nice book? I have here all the desires of man. Today was Sunday, but I only had to teach two students, so all is well on that front. The only thing worrying me is my class schedule for next quarter, because although I got into the honors seminar for one of my life sciences (one of only twenty spots holllaaaa), I'm not allowed to increase my max units until spring quarter. So I can only take 19, and since all my classes are 5 (for whatever reason), I can almost but not quite take four classes, and if that isn't the most blamed annoying facet of academic bureaucracy ever, I'll eat my hat! (I wonder if that idiom came from the pioneer days when people actually had to eat their hats?) So I can only take three classes now, and I know that's normal and all, and most people don't take more than that, but still, I want to! This throws off my plans a little bit. You see, I had it all planned out where I could take four classes every quarter and still be on top of things, but now I have to wait for one of my GEs. Oh yes, there was another problem with that too, you see, I tried to take a class that would fulfill both my writing and my historical analysis, but when I went to sign up, they wouldn't let me. Apparently, only freshmen can take that class. Well I never! Now I have to take them separately, because the only other class that fulfills both is from the Labor and the Workplace department. I don't even know what that is, but I can tell conclusively that I want nothing to do with it. Better to let the purveyors of that noble field labor on in their workplace undisturbed without having to contend with any uppity linguistics majors. And okay, although part of me is annoyed at having to take two classes instead of one, the other part of me is delighted to take two classes instead of one. I mean, that's double the stuff I can learn, and isn't that exciting? Maybe I should take philosophy. I've always wanted to. Or maybe an English class? English is my true love (one of them) after all. Oh my goodness me, there are so many options, and I'm absolutely filled with excitement! Once I get done with phonology, everything's going to fly right on by. Linguistics is amazing as a field, and it's indisputable that there are fascinating aspects to everything, but the fact remains that phonology and phonetics have a very weak appeal for me. Maybe it has to do with the strange sounds we have to make on a daily basis (do you know how hard it is to sound dignified while producing a pharyngeal fricative?) or maybe it's the all-too straightforward nature of the subjects (it could be a biochem course with the amount of memorization we do), but they just can't stir my soul like syntax does. There's just something about solving problems and proving them that gets my blood pumping, and it is so amazing. I don't think I've ever had that rush of adrenaline during phonetics yet this quarter (or rather I did once, but it was because of a connection I made on my own that may or may not be in fact fallacious). I'm super pumped to take Syntax II later (since I took Syntax I in Ohio). But also, I'm really excited to take semantics! Although I've never taken a course in it per se, I have taken Language and Formal Reasoning in Ohio, which is basically poor man's semantics, and I loved it so very much that I still hold my other linguistics classes to it as a standard. So I'm excited to take that this quarter, and Semantics II later. There's so much to look forward to!
Lately, I've fallen back into love with musicals. I mean, I've always loved them, but now I'm getting into them hardcore especially Rent. Yesterday, I stayed up fairly late looking up different versions of the songs sung by different singers to see who fits their character the best. I've come to the conclusion that Adam Pascal is the best Roger, but the jury's still out on Mimi. Rosario Dawson has a lovely voice, but Daphne Whatsit maybe fits her better? I can't decide! Oh man, but I'm loving this. Rent is such an amazing and perfect musical (okay, it's not perfect, but it's still lovelier than a packet of penguins), and La Boheme is such an amazing opera too, and just oh man, I am so in awe of it. If I could play Mimi in any production of it anywhere, I would be so happy. Or would I be better as Maureen? Really, I think I would, especially given Mimi's propensity for dancing, but I don't want to sing Over the Moon. Like, I get what they were trying to do with it, and the artistic part of me appreciates it, but the thought of singing makes me shudder. Okay, I admit it– there's not really a good part for me in Rent. Both my voice and my personality are wrong for it. Penny from Hairspray would be a perfect role for me (or maybe Shiloh from Repo the Genetic Opera if we want to get weird with it), like as much as I would love to be the sexy, sassy lead, everything about me screams soubrette, and that's okay! Really, that's the fun character to play anyway. And I'm sure there are pieces where people like me would be the lead! Just look at A Doll's House. I'm just waiting for the day when they make a musical version of that. I might spontaneously combust, but it will be a blaze of glory and joy if I do. Someone write to Jonathan Larson; this needs to be done immediately.
Remember when I said that TV shows are the literature of today? I still maintain that that's true. Literature is like matter– it can't be destroyed, it can only change form. Well, I guess it can be created, though. So that's not a good analogy. But then again, can it really? Pre-literate cultures often had very impressive oral traditions, and really, that's literature, isn't it? It's not written down, but it's still true to the spirit of the thing, if not the letter (that was a pun). So maybe it's true, literature is akin to matter. Anyway! I think there's a definite hierarchy in the world of shows, and an art to it, and a measure of connoisseur-ship, and analysis, and everything else that makes conventional literature what it is (and so wonderful), and it might be in a different media, but it's the same idea that's persisted through the ages. So if I sit around for five hours watching The X-Files, I'm actually participating in something quite cultural, and not wasting my time at all. Yeah. Oh yes, and I think movies also fit in here! Not all of them are enduring, or of literary merit, or even worth watching at all, but some are excellent masterpieces, and probably will be assigned to students in seventy-five years. Part of me doesn't like this shift away from conventional media, because I will always be a little bit of a Luddite, but another part of me is excited to see these changes. I'd like to think that I can embrace change in the world, and it's kind of irritating and all, but then again, it's also so thrilling! Look at where we're going; where will we be in fifty years? Who knows, not me! Right now, I'm feeling optimistic, so I'm only focusing on the good aspects of progress, and of the state of the current world (which is considerably harder). But there's good everywhere, we just have to look for it. How's that for a pithy little gem? Maybe I should think a little harder about going into psych. I would have a new bromide every day. Okay, on that cheerful note, I'm going to go make potatoes. Bye now!

I'm livid

I actually can't believe what's happening in Ferguson right now. Like, I feel physically ill. Why did I think the justice system would operate like it should? And how can people be so disgusting? This better be in history books in fifty years, and it better be an indictment of those horrible racist pieces of human garbage who valued a human life as nothing and let a murderer walk free. Right now, I'm so angry and upset and yes, I have white privilege, and no, I don't have to worry about this happening to me or to anyone in my family, but I am a human being, and I'm frankly outraged at this miscarriage of justice. Literally, I don't even understand. How could anyone look at a situation like this and not side with Mike Brown and his family? It's a bad time to be American today.

Uggggh this is the worst ever like all I want to do is sit on my bed and eat sweets and watch the Lord of the Rings, like is that too much to ask? Why must this be? If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Speaking of which, Sadie honey, I know it’s late and cold, but you seriously might want to think about showering, because they can probably smell you in Westwood. How am I supposed to sleep in here like this? And why on earth does everyone seem to hate fresh air? I really do try to keep the window open, man, I really do. I don’t think we’re in any danger of cat burglars or errant Claremont-era Spidermen, Besides, what do we have to steal? Probably a couple grand worth of textbooks, yeah, but I don’t think that’s on any master thief’s top ten. Although I guess one never knows. Good ol Lee the Libertarian did say something about someone breaking into somebody’s dorm and making away with all their study supplies (and this person was a linguistics major, so the loss of that exorbitant Intro to Ling brick must have been extraordinarily devastating). Hopefully that’s something that only happens in Ohio, but who can say? Maybe I should start sleeping with all my textbooks under my pillow.

I can’t believe I broke up with Ty. He seemed so stable. It’s too bad he turned out to be such a massive piss coordinator. Why is that always the case? Maybe I should date someone superficially rude and moody and they would turn out to be a being of pure sweetness and light underneath it all. Just like Mr. Darcy, except, you know, not. I don’t play that way. Sydney Carton is and will always be my goal. But man, how am I going to find someone like that? Life isn’t a Dickens novel (thank goodness), and unfortunately, I think the likelihood of me finding a perfect soulmate is just about equal to the likelihood of me finding the Shire. Whether it’s The One Ring or just simply The One, I’m up the creek without a dog in the gunfight either way. Which sounds rather gloomy, but come on, I’m an experienced woman– I’ve lived for almost two decades. Surely I know something about the world by now. (Also, I think that was a most beautifully mixed metaphor. I’m a veritable alchemist with language) What’s a poor girl to do? Maybe I should run away and live in a hermitage. If I did that, though, I wouldn’t get to take any more linguistics classes, and then where would I be? Oh no, that is just not an option. Well, I feel that I am dangerously close to an existential crisis, so I think on this happy note, I will retire to my bed (where I might have a crisis anyway, but at least I’ll be theoretically in the right place). Goodnight y’all!