No impetus to update lately. Everything's normal with a chance of meatballs. EuroCiv II was joined by a guy who combs his nasty beard during class discussion. He does it in a casual and indiscreet underhanded fashion, looking clean and proud as a cat. There's always got to be "one of those."
My Intro to Fiction prof is into his car and getting vehemently excited about diction and syntax in 19th century short stories. He also finds a way to flat-out swear at least three times per lecture. This is one of those "progress" courses--it doesn't matter if you're already flowery enough to consider fiction from his enthusiastic angle, you're going to fail your first paper. "Good luck," he said sardonically. He's got silver hair and a silver grin, probably tenured to the core.
In Chaucer class we all get points for showing minimal amounts of interest. Yesterday my charmingly British prof implored me to call Emilia a "bitch" and smiled at me until I looked up, realized she was still talking to me, and agreed. I'll probably write my term paper on the whorish Wife of Bath.
So concludes that glimmering summary. I have other things that I'm happy about and interested in, but I'll keep them more private than the pilgrims.