the other day i was sitting in my bed, smelling my new ikea lingonberry candle, stomach full of “swedish” cinnamon rolls. and i started shaking a bit.
my whole body was buzzing, not even from my new-found caffeine addiction.
or high fructose corn syrup lovingly dolloped atop the cinnamon rolls.
i was just so overcome with how fantastic everything is.
{caption for this photo:” wait, did i write cymbeline?!?”}
i had the odd pleasure of taking a renaissance drama class this semester. not only was this class ridiculous (which is natural when your professor has four masters degrees and went to yale after she got bored at stanford, seriously) and intense, but it also brought a lot of amazing texts to my reading repertoire. texts so hilarious that i spent a lot of time cracking up at the language. these are texts that i will now take out of context for your reading pleasure.
gems from the play ’tis pity she’s a whore:
1.”most dainty and honey-sweet mistress, i could call you fair, and lie as fast as any that loves you; but my uncle being the elder man, i leave it to him, as more fit for his age, and the colour of his beard. i am wise enough to tell you i can bourd where i see occasion; or if you like my uncle’s wit better than mine, you shall marry me; if you like mine better than his, i will marry you, in spite of your teeth. so commending my best parts to you, i rest yours, upwards and downwards, or you may choose.” -bergetto, in a love letter.
2.”bergetto: and i will have her, that’s more : did’st see the codpiece-point she gave me, and the box of marmalade ?”
poggio: very well; and kiss’d you, that my chops water’d at the sight on’t: there is no way but to clap up a marriage in hugger-mugger.
philotis: what ails my love ?
bergetto: i am sure i cannot piss forward and backward, and yet i am wet before and behind; lights! lights! ho, lights!”
3. “ismena: your lover, i think be a fair fool, for you love nothing but fruit and puppets”, sappho and phao.
you start out innocently enough. you have your note cards. your study schedules. your multiple highlighters that mean different things when you underline things in your renaissance drama texts. you give yourself pep talks when you take a “study break” in the girl’s bathroom of the library. you consider going to the bathroom a “study break”.
you begin your slow descent into finals anxiety with each whispered “YOU GOT THIS HOMEGIRL! YOU RUN FINALS!” in stall number three.
and then you turn into something like this:
{this was my second iced coffee of the day. this was also taken at approximately 8 in the morning. issues, i have them. }
and who really enjoys looking like a sad monk that has a bad habit of wearing sweatshirts from schools they’ve never been to? not me, no way.
ergo, my checklist on how to get yourself out of the finals exam season doldrums.
1. listen to josh ritter. in extreme amounts. imagine you are riding through the midwest atop a white horse and drinking whiskey, watching the sun go down. or you could just imagine josh ritter is your boyfriend. both are acceptable. make sure to yell “AND I LOVE THE WAY SHE LOOKS IN HER UNDERWEAAAAAR!” during really intense moments of studying.
2. realize the existence of bon iver erotica stories the day before finals end. be thankful you didn’t discover their hilarity any earlier. read a few and get yourself together.
3. plan a celebratory thai food date with a person you really like for immediately after finals. imagining the end of finals and a mountain of fried tofu cubes can get me out of any sad spell.
4. coffee. just do it. all 24oz of it. forget that your left eye won’t stop twitching.
5. remember your favorite saying from your big brother. “grab a tissue, we all got issues.” get your big girl pants on.
6. realize that finals season means you don’t have to dress up at all. realize that most of your outfits consist of things you might have slept in the night before. start using your “sally jesse raphael glasses” out of desperation.
7. do jumping jacks when you reach a wall in reading the (actually fantastic) text entitled ’tis pity she’s a whore. i cannot tell you how many times i have forced friends to do jumping jacks with me in the library.
8. do hand-stretching exercises. reason? you will probably end up spending four hours writing if you’re an english/writing/publishing major like i am. two of those hours will be spent writing an in-class essay on incest. nine pages by hand, guys. my poor right middle finger is still permanently scarred.
9. do another set of jumping jacks once finals is over! hug your mom! hug your professor! hug random dogs in boston common! hug the guard that yells at you to tap your id when you try to sneak into the library! you’re done with finals, homegirl!
result: this is my “OMG I AM LISTENING TO JOSH RITTER AND DRINKING HOT MANGO BLACK TEA IN MY FAVORITE COFFEE MUG!!!!!” face.
i’ve biked over 80 miles this week (more on that later. it involves so much swamp butt. 500 boston residents. old and new roommates. a tandem bicycle. and bacon)
finals = next week. gulp.
i just wrapped acting in two of my bro’s student films. yes. i got to shoot people with multiple nerf guns. and scare my “husband”/guyfrand with my zombie face.
and i’ve had more than a handful of awkward interactions to share. i’d round it up to three handfuls, actually.
…..and two more libraries. could you expect anything less?
needless to say, it might get a wee bit quiet over here.
i can has massage? or another vegan coconut milkshake from veggie galaxy?
’til then, my sweets!
the following scene happened the other night:
so i’m walking out of one of the buildings at school after a quidditch meeting where i had to give a speech (i was running for co-captain of one of the teams. nerd alert #1).
so i’m walking out the door and a nice group of boys opened the door for me. i walked past them as i wanted to get home to watch some “twilight zone” asap (nerd alert #2).
boy #1: yeah, like taking melatonin is the coolest. it makes you sleepy and shizz.
boy #2: isn’t that the stuff in turkey that makes you tired?
boy #3: i don’t think that’s right. it’s something else…um…
me (turning around quickly, excitedly): IT’S CALLED TRYPTOPHAN! sorry. oh crap, sorry.
and then i turned around and scurried away to my subway stop.(nerd alert #3)
but if i hadn’t have scurried i totally would have added “AND THAT’S ACTUALLY A MYTH!” (nerd alert #4)
i’ll just kindly place myself in the trash can now. save some time.
things i’ve thought this week:
“you know what, i really should do that optional seven page paper on renaissance drama. it doesn’t hurt, right?”
“man, i’m so pumped for my new glasses to come in the mail!”
“i need to watch season four of ‘gilmore girls’ this week. rory gilmore is the bomb, and i need some study inspiration anyways.”
“only eight more months until grad school deadlines! i should start courting my recommenders now.”
“i’m gonna get my ‘james und der riesenpfirsich’ on sooooooo good this weekend.”
“man, this poetry foundation app is so bomb.”
“fall 2012 is going to be the best academic semester ever.”
“oh god. this is going to be the first lesson i teach my future children.”
“…but…when am i going to study this weekend…?”
how have i not been stuffed into a trash can? riddle me this.
“the campus, an academy of trees,
under which some hand, the wind’s i guess,
had scattered the pale light
of thousands of spring beauties,
petals stained with pink veins;
secret, blooming for themselves.
we sat among them.
your long fingers, thin body,
and long bones of improbable genius;
some scattered gene as kafka must have had.
your deep voice, this passing dust of miracles.
that simple that was myself, half conscious,
as though each moment was a page
where words appeared; the bent hammer of the type
struck against the moving ribbon.
the light air, the restless leaves;
the ripple of time warped by our longing.
there, as if we were painted
by some unknown impressionist.”
-ruth stone, in the next galaxy.
i’ve never been known for being silent anyways.
so as a motivation to finish all of my finals i’ve made a list of things i am going to treat myself to post-finals:
dancing around my apartment to the following songs
drinking some burdick’s hot chocolate. and buying children’s books.
signing up for my german class (!!!) ja, wohl!
daydreaming about how many black bean burgers i am going to be eating at toojay’s once i get back to florida.
planning my trip to tampa to see my platonic soul-mate.
planning my 21st birthday trip to montreal. (emily. get ready for madness.)
going to enjoy this view at mt. auburn cemetery.
go ice skating on the common’s frog pond (!!!)
do a ceremonial burning of my speech class’ handbook. seriously. this is the most important task. i need to do this for cathartic purposes.
read so. many. books. finishing the georgia nicolson series is top on the list, then some good ol’ fashion sci-fi.
i think i can. i think i can. i think i can.
this will be me for the next week or so.
pardon ahead of time for my silence. i will be loafing around my apartment in leggings with my lion’s mane all crazy- like, making note-cards and study schedules like i am rory gilmore, in my attempts to kick some finals week tail.
until then xo
and is on her way to the 2011 quidditch world cup?!
this moi!
that’s right. i seriously cannot make this stuff up. i’m currently in a car full of fellow team moms (yes, there are multiple team moms for emerson’s world cup team. we go big.)
but anywhosits, being team mom is strenuous stuff. it involves waking up sleep deprived college boys, baking loaves upon loaves of banana bread and feeding an entire team of players of a fictional sport.
in short, i love my life.
