I just finished my homework for class tomorrow. It is a huge relief.

Now it’s time to start another novel for Brit Novel, read my Lit Crit pages and find time to read my homework for my thesis meeting.

I finished the novel Hope Leslie, and tagged it accordingly today. It was a lot for one day. I’m going to have to reorganize my weekend hours better. Next week is my final bartending shift for awhile, I’ve got two in September and then I’m finished. Next week is also Labor Day weekend, so there will be social gatherings. It also means Monday off, so that will help make up for time spent enjoying life.

Tonight, for a minute or 90, I’m taking a break. Enjoying my Sunday night tv. Pizza and chocolate cake with Michael and Breaking Bad.

Tomorrow I have some calls to make in regards to house repairs, and I may have to go get a new backpack. ANOTHER new backpack.

Damned Kikimama peed on mine this morning.

The one I bought LAST WEEK.

We’ll see if I got to it in time with the cleaning stuffs.

damnit.

For the first book of our British Novel course, this was certainly a hefty one. This text comes with a giant reputation.

Difficult. Dense. Classic.

“I’ve tried to get through Joyce but never could.”

That’s what I heard more often than not.

The thing is, I feel anxious when faced with these titles, these foundations of our cannon of literature. I feel like I’m not going to understand it, not going to get it, not going to be able to talk about it or process it. I feel like it comes with such a HUGE reputation…It’s  the Claire Standish of the literary world and I’m Allison Reynolds*, forever in the corner eating pixie stix sandwiches while the cool kids absorb and explicate all of the worlds best words.

I am happy to report that this particular work…

I got it.

I read it.

I was determined.

I still really believe that a titch of Jameson and a romp with a randy redhead would help the process…but whatever.

There are moments of brilliance. Beautifully woven words and images, it’s the perfect tiramisu. Layered with delicate flavors and scenes and delicious illusions and ohmygod-I-understand-what-he’s-talking-about!!! It’s that Oprah moment when she sing talks her point home.

IundERSTAAAAAAAAAND!!!!!!!

I don’t love it.

I don’t really even like it.

The work, as a whole.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m even an English major. What the hell???

But it just is what it is. I read it. I like parts of it. The Catholic church, the Ireland of it all, the weakness of the character’s spirit and the evolution of said spirit…all depicted with vivid, clear words. So beautiful. So clear. So perfect. Still not my favorite.

I’m not a reader that seeks the Happily Ever After. I don’t need the happy ending. *dirty* (come on. we all –– that’s a different post) This story just had SO little joy. SO little hope. Even as the protagonist grew up, survived the wars of family, God, country…the scar tissue was still so raw and red and tender…it was painful to ingest.

So. That’s where I am with the class. Book One: down. All required postings: Done. James Joyce:My Bitch. . . not really my bitch. But finishing was something I do feel like I deserve a pat on the back for. People who are far smarter than I have professed to throwing this story to the dogs.

I am intrigued by the man. I’m intrigued by the fact that we as students of literature, scholars of the humanities, still profess that THIS is a work to be studied. When does it become A WORK TO BE STUDIED? And when does it become something that doesn’t translate anymore? What happens with an iconic work when it fails to reach the masses? These are questions I have. I’m sure I’m not the only one to ask them. I’m sure a revisiting is in order. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get moist at the thought. I’d like to know more about Joyce…I think a trip to Dublin is just what I need.

Who’s with me?

*google it.

 

In reading this critical article for my 19th Centure Woman Writers course, I’ve discovered a few things.

If you replace the word “Religion” with any variation of the words “Money” or  “Orgasm”  it reads with more truth, as well as…more truth.

“Religion is just what a woman needs. Without it she is ever restless or unhappy.”

“Joseph M’D Matthews…believed that ‘female education should be preeminently religious.”

“woman never looks lovelier than in her reverence for religion.”

 

Speaking of religion, Thank GOD I wasn’t born then. I’d have been burnt at the stake the first time I opened my mouth.

I swear, I can feel my brain throbbing.

It’s swolled up.

Too much thinking. Too much reading. Too much staring at the computer.

I have two novels to read. One by Sunday night, and I’ve already started it. One by Monday. I’ve got a story to read for my thesis by Monday. As well as another chapter in my lit crit book.

Tonight, however, I’ve put on my soft clothes. I’ve eaten my crockpot green chile slurry. I’ve got Newsroom playing in the background. I’m going to lie on the couch until the knots in my neck start to dissolve, and then I’m going to bed.

I have a feeling that this semester is going to be a lot of lather-rinse-repeat of this blog post.

Kizz asked for the booklist for my British Novel class, and as this is the class I’ll be using the blog for once or twice a week, I thought I’d post it. We’ll be blowing through these books about one a week as well as our other assignments. This is a Block One course, which means it’s double time and finishes at mid-term.

 James Joyce and A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man.

Ford Madox Ford’s The Good Soldier

Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway

E.M. Forster’s A Passage To India

D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterly’s Lover

Evelyn Waugh’s A Handful of Dust

Graham Green’s Brighton Rock

Flann O’Brien’s At-Swim-Two-Birds

 

Have you read any of them? Did you read them because you were in a class and had to or of your own volition?  Did you have any struggles with comprehension, boredom, vocabulary, writing style? Were you engaged by the novel? Which one, if any, on this list incite an “Ohhhhhhh that was sooooo goood” response out of you? Why?

I’m getting through Joyce. Determined is my word of the day. I’m also convinced that if I were in Dublin, and just a little drunk, and perhaps throwing leg at some hairy Irishman, this might read faster. . .

buuuuuuuuut that’s just my opinion.

Yesterday was a big fat brain day.

I knew it would be. I knew that after yesterday, I would blink and it would be mid-term, I would blink and it would be Christmas. Seriously.

Leaps and bounds were made in the name of Progress, however. I do love that.

My first class is going to be amazing. Five minutes into it and I was already wishing that I could take more courses with her, that she had taught my Southern Women class, and that I wanted to ask her to be on my thesis committee. She is the former dean of our Liberal Arts college and she stepped down in order to get back to doing what she loves, which is teaching students. This was her first class and man, she was in sync! LOVE! I have a huge break from 1-5:45 on Monday and Wednesdays and I will be using that time to do work on campus and meet with my thesis prof. I went and found him, Professor Hayes, in his office and we set up to chat a little later.

That meeting was awesome. I enjoy him so much. We settled on a thesis topic. Did you get that? WE SETTLED ON A THESIS TOPIC!!!

Should I post it here? Is it a secret? I don’t know. I’m writing over the works of Flannery O’Connor. And we set up a plan (I do love a plan) to meet every Monday. I have a reading assignment before our next meeting. We laid out the timeline that I’ve initially sketched out and both agree that it’s going to be a bitch, but whatever. I’m not here to get my nails done, I’m here to get my degree. If it were easy everyone would have one. (do you even RECOGNIZE ME from the girl a year ago??? I laugh. It’s crazy.) So, that felt good. Progress. A Plan. An assignment. Boom.

We also spoke of ph.d programs, and finding the right one, and the GRE exam. I feel anxious about the timeline for this. But whatever. It will either work out, or it won’t. If it does then hurray. If it doesn’t then something will happen that will put me on a path. Hurray again.

I think I got a glimpse of my online prof. I was talking to another student (remember when I went days w/o talking to anyone? I talked to LOTS of people yesterday! I knew them and talked and sat next to them…Ahhhh) and we both just looked at stared openmouthed. It was kind of like a Bigfoot sighting. “He’s real” said my friend, awe in his voice. I’ve got so much reading to do for that class that my eyes may cross. I’ll be cracking that book after paying bills this morning.

While I was sitting in the common area, organizing, reading, ordering extra books, someone plopped down beside me at the table. I looked up and it was my prof from the first class! We talked and talked, I explained about my impending trip to San Diego and that I just made the choice and would miss two of her classes, and we arranged a way for me to work online while out there. Then Prof Hayes plopped down and we three started chatting. I could weep. It felt the most like USAO in that moment. A student walked up to our table and asked “us” if we could show her where the bathrooms were. It was a small thing, but in looking back, another sign that tells me that community is the place I want to be.

My night class is Literary Criticism. That in itself sends shivers down the spines of every student to walk the halls in the Liberal Arts Building. The reputation of the professor and the class and the tests and the lectures have a life of their own, so large, so fearful, so negative that  I was really shaky  before class. (also I’d only had two Cliff bars all day long. that didn’t help) The class, I’ll tell you, is what I thought graduate level classes would ALL be like. The professor reminds me of my friend Brad. So I’m no longer fearful of him. He runs a tight ship. That’s fine. It’s an all graduate level class. That’s good, too.

I don’t remember what literary theory, if any, that I’ve had. So, I ordered an extra introduction book that he mentioned in lecture. This is going to be one that bends my brain in ways heretofor unknown. I’m ok with that…but it’s a little scary. If I lose the 4.0 it’ll be because of this class. I’m determined to work that much harder.

This morning I’m paying bills. Tax bills, house bills. Reading. I have to go up to campus and buy another book. Do more reading. Get prepped for tomorrow’s classes.

First, I’m going to go for a walk. It’s beautiful outside. And I need some fresh air.

Happy Tuesday, yall. I love your support and I love George Clooney.

Today begins my last year working on my Masters. I am very aware of the hurdles that are ahead of me. Deadlines. Tests. Applications. Letters of recommendation. Trips. Fall Break. Ph.d programs.

I am very aware of what lies ahead.

I am very aware of what unknowns will be known this time next year.

I am a different person that I was at this time last year.

Peaceful.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not always at peace. I’m cranky. Overworked and cranky it seems every weekend. It’s my choice. I choose to work every weekend. I chose not to give myself time to go to Arkansas before school started. I wish I hadn’t but that’s what I did. I wish I had planned a weekend to spend with friends this month but I’m working and that’s my choice. I’m focused on the reason for savings and full speed ahead. My cranky hangs out some, but hopefully the peace replaces it and it’s easier to be around me.

It will be better in September because I know I’ve got time with Cindy and friends planned, I’ve got family time in California planned. October brings Harvest Fest at Fall Break, right after mid-term.

Today however, is a day of firsts.

First day of school and for many, a new school. My girls in Florida are navigating around a place they’ve been for 14 days. I have no doubt that they will shine bright, but I’m nervous for them. Wonderboy begins his adventures in middle school today. Not gonna lie, I cried a little about him this morning. That’s a big damn deal.

They will all survive. To be sure. But that first step into the unknown is always a bitch, isn’t it?

It’s time to get up, pack my backpack with fresh supplies, (FRESH SUPPLIES!) and run to Walgreens. I’m completely out of shampoo. The irony is not lost on me. Noon class today then meetings with advisors, working online (Remember I’m going to be using this space to post assignments for class from time to time) then my night class.

It’s time to leap.

It’s time to begin. again.

I may never recover from the weekend. I’m exhausted. But in a good way, from work and making money and prepping for the week.

The salon was busy this past week and I bartended back to back weddings Friday and Saturday nights, with last night’s being off the hook busy and fun and late and busy. I only slept about 4 or 5 hours and woke right up bright and early this morning. I tried to sleep but gave up, got up and made coffee and sat on the couch awhile willing my throbbing feet and body to wake up.

I made a quick trip to Bed Bath & Beyond and used my fabulous collection of 20% off cupons to get a few things that I needed, like replacement pads for my Shark steam mop. Man I love that thing. Sarah mentioned a few days ago that she was getting one and made me get mine out. Of course I couldn’t find the cleaning cloth pads so that’s why I haven’t used it much. I’ve pulled a Marilyn and put them in a  “safe place.” Anyways, I got the floors cleaned and mopped and vacuumed. I’ve got to change the sheets then I’ll be finished.

I went out to Laura’s for a Back To School gathering by the pool and spent a few hours with the girls, snacking and laughing and just enjoying some time together. She and I start school tomorrow…last day of play.

I tried to take a nap but only for about 40 minutes. That’s ok because I’ve got steak and veggies that need prepping and Michael is coming over for our Breaking Bad tv time. He had a shitty shitty week and mine almost ate me so tonight, we feast and we reboot for the week.

Hope you’re doing the same

I’ve printed off my first syllabus for the school year. My online class is The British Novel 1900-1940. This is a Block I class so it will be balls to the wall until mid-term then end. I am suddenly face to face with the break neck speed that life is moving towards with each passing day.

I will be using this blog as part of my class from time to time. Just a warning for the 5 of you that read daily. I’ll let you know when I’m posting an assignment. But I’d rather just work here, where I’m comfortable, than go build a whole new blog that won’t be used again after the class ends. I’m excited about the different types of work and projects that are involved with this class. I’m excited about the novels that I’ll read, only one that I’ve read before. Once again, I am sad that this isn’t a classroom class. After two online classes this past summer, I know that’s where I excel and relate.

Lionel Ritchie is on the Today Show.

This requires no more typing and fresh coffee.

Also, let me once again just say:

Game. of. Thrones.

lord.

I had an entire passage written regarding healthcare and insurance and seeing the doctor. Several of us have been dealing with that and in turn, writing about it. My mom has been dealing with pain, several kinds of pain for a long long time now. But I deleted it. I’m firmly in the camp of “if you have health insurance and are not going to the doctor to procure a healthy future? shame on you.”

I went on to hemm and hawww about this variable and that variable, making sure that I was sitting firmly across the fence, one leg on either side so as not to offend anyone.

Fuck that.

If you have insurance, and you aren’t using it to firmly procure a healthy future:

shame. on. you. peroid.

In other news:

I’ve begun watching Game of Thrones. I plowed through three hours last night. Another hour today. Yeah…it’s as good as everyone has said. I need to get back onto the treadmill while I’m watching. That didn’t happen this morning. Sigh.

Back to work today. My week gears up on Wednesday and doesn’t stop. Weddings both Friday and Saturday nights. I’m getting burnt out on that. But it helps to have the goal of trips to work for. Don’t I say that ever post? It seems like I do. Burnt out. School next week. Arranging meetings with advisors. I was incredibly lazy Monday and Tuesday. I don’t care. That’s pretty much it for my do nothing days.

I bought tickets to see Anthony Bourdain on my birthday weekend. I’ve got tentative plans to be out of town for that, if I do I’ll sell my tickets…but if that doesn’t work out I’ll go see the man tell some stories. It’s the same venue that I saw David Sedaris, and I’m excited.

I love having things on my calendar to look forward to.