(no subject)

[thejunipertree]

DEAR INTERNETS:

Tonight, I kicked the shit out of my World Lit final.

Dang, seriously. I made it my little bitch.

Especially with the essay I wrote comparing and contrasting the relationships of Shakespeare's Hamlet/Ophelia, Marie de France's Bisclavret/his wife, Anne Bradstreet/her husband, and Beowulf's Grendel/Grendel's mother. Then I discussed what these four relationships said about the nature of love.

It was entitled: Douchebaggery, Thy Name is Hamlet.

I love this class and am very sad that my last night of it is next week. Except for how I had to sit through five different students tonight attempting to read Sonnet 130 (My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun...) for twenty-five points of extra credit.

That was pretty painful, yo.

This class seriously kind of maybe makes me contemplate going into literature as a some kind of major and eventual profession. But, I am not quite that much of a maschochist.

Oh, what manner of nonsense is that?

Yo ho, yo ho, it's a mortician's life for me!

Love,
~tara

P.S.
The Engineer totally talked about masturbation and ball-shaving tonight to the Masons. It slayed me.