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 |  My first ever Writing.com journal. |
| sixty-four hours and one twelve-page paper later, i'm every bit as irrationally upset with dr. billingslea-brown as i was in her class on thursday, when it became heartbreakingly clear that she is not even remotely familiar with, much less qualified to teach, toni morrison's love, one of the best books i've read this year. which, really, is neither here nor there--the semester's over, and the only further contact i'll ever have to have with her will come next with the final exam next week. but i always get silently indignant when things don't get their just due. last night we had a party for my ex-roommate's boyfriend's birthday, one of those drunken get-togethers where everyone tries to emulate their own personal record for assholery. i don't drink--not just because i'm underage (which around here isn't nearly reason enough anyway), but because at my size i'd probably get shitfaced after a dixie cup of watered-down beer, and because it's never a good idea to get shitfaced around people one doesn't particularly trust. so what tends to happen is, i sit soberly in a corner knotting mardi gras beads between my fingers as everyone else gets shitfaced, and then you'd think they'd leave me out of the crap that ensues, but no! just when they get to the point where self-censure is out of the question, somebody notices me and hurls one my way. last night's (thoughtfully contributed by the ex-roommate herself): "shannon, you're never going to fall in love! you're going to grow up and be a cat lady and die alone in a condom factory!" arbitrary conclusory clause notwithstanding, that's just what i'd been thinking. seriously, how do you find love here, where it seems like everyone's personal goals are centered largely around alcohol and orgasms? not that mine are all that much more noble, but still. so yes, cross-apply my gripe with dr. billinglsea-brown's gross marginalization of a great book (see above), and it should be clear why i'd like to slip some foxglove to somebody right about now. god, i wish it was time for m. |
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