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LiveJournal for Katlyn.
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| Thursday, June 12th, 2008 |
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"I do not like to work with patients who are in love. Perhaps it is because of envy- I too crave enchantment. Perhaps it is because love and psychotherapy are fundamentally incompatible. The good therapist fights darkness and seeks illumination, while romantic love is sustained by mystery and crumbles upon inspection. I hate to be love's executioner." I finished my last final not even an hour ago. It went well, I think. I did not finish reading The Tempest, but I found some things to say about the passages regardless. The relief of being done makes me float. |
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| Monday, June 9th, 2008 |
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| I had a two hour review session today for English Renaissance Drama, except Shakespeare (more fondly- and succinctly- known as Liz/Jac Sans Shak). It went well and I feel more or less prepared except that I still have three plays to read before the final tomorrow at three. At the end of the session, my professor had already walked out of the room and was talking to a student as I myself exited. I hovered momentarily just to bid farewell, but as the conversation seemed it would continue for a while longer, I began to walk away. Then, my professor said, "Goodbye, Katlyn," in a tone that suggested he was slightly offended I didn't say 'bye myself. And so I felt bad. But then, I left through the a-level doors and, coming around the building, ran into him once more as he descended the steps from the first floor. He gave me a quizzical look, and then said, "I realize I came up only to come down again." I would that I had responded instantly, "How Classically tragic of you." Alack! Damn my sluggish wit! He would have gotten a kick out of it, I know. We did have a nice (if brief) discussion of Shakespeare's superiority in the construction of his characters- much more in depth and psychological than even the best of his contemporaries. I now have a greater appreciation for Shakespeare's work than I did before this class (who would have thought it possible?). Thank you, your Altitude (i.e., Professor Braunmuller). We walked to Humanities and then parted ways. And this time, I said goodbye first. | ||||||
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| Wednesday, May 21st, 2008 |
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Macbeth really is exciting. I'd love to see it performed. |
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| Thursday, May 8th, 2008 |
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Make haste to see my fine work. It may be gone before you know it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Muffin_ (I can only take credit for the biographical information). |
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My eyes are too wide at this moment while my thoughts are tired and slow. Instead of studying for the last hour as I should do, I've been contributing my vast knowledge of the Muffin Man to wikipedia. |
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| Monday, March 31st, 2008 |
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I have a plant. I call him Seymour. I feed him water. It's a little backwards, I know. I thought about Audrey II, but that would mean the end of the world. Some unknown pest has ravaged his second and third largest leaves. Poor Seymour. He is beautiful. |
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| Monday, March 17th, 2008 |
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i've only one more final to go and then i'm free. for a little while, at least. i turned in my Old English final after my scene this morning (which went well- we did it in front of a class that was not ours and the professor said we got the loudest applause of any other scene. she had no notes for me other than that she thought that the final moment was "very touching" and "quite lovely," but isn't it always when a cheating wife hugs her husband in front of her lover/his best friend after declaring she is pregnant with the lover's child? so no notes i guess is good, but slightly disappointing. i like feedback). just before placing the final in the envelope with the other materials the professor requested, i looked over the pages a last time, and i think that i put "all" in the wrong case (genitive singular) in the Modern English to Old English translation section but didn't have my text to check so i slid it into the envelope and handed it away. i am most dubious of those two lines. mostly the first. but we shall see. friday night i fell hard, but i made my way up with some assistance. even so, i am glad tuesday's so near and that i can go home and make my way to the water. in the mean time, i have much reading ahead of me, and thematic content to review, so i shall go. Happy St. Patrick's Day. |
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| Friday, February 1st, 2008 |
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brilliant. the beatles are going to be transmitted across the universe by NASA. p.s. Anton Chekhov died in 1904. |
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| Wednesday, January 30th, 2008 |
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so I sort of stripped onstage in front of my entire theatre class and professor this morning. talk about crazy. pictures to come (i hasten to add, PSYCH! ...about the pictures anyway). my professor called me a reluctant prostitute (intended as a compliment, i assure you). also, I am picking up Old English quite quickly, I do believe, cases and all. today we discussed adjectives and verbs. my utter delight in the process made me realize what an absolute nerd i truly am. oh, dear. and the thrill that comes with recognizing similarities to certain aspects of Spanish or what little bits I know of other languages? well, there are hardly words (of the 400,000-650,000 I have to choose from, it surprises me as well). And please, don't get me started on etymological progression and the inspiring awe that succeeds the realization that two infinitives like "to bless" and "to bleed" are both children of "blood," merely fathered by different suffixes leading to variations in i-mutation. in fact, I am totally sure I am deliriously unsure of which struck me as more exhilarating this day- taking off my pants in front of people I barely know or learning that the term "nickname" is derived from the Middle English phrase "an eek/eke name" (in Old English "an eac nama"). oh lovely lovely things. |
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| Wednesday, December 12th, 2007 |
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Alfred, Lord Tennyson - Lady of Shalott, Ulysses, The Lotos-Eaters Edward Fitzgerald - The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam Elizabeth Barrett Browning - Sonnets 22, 32, 43 Robert Browning - Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister, My Last Duchess, Fra Lippo Lippi, Caliban Upon Setebos, A Bishop Orders His Tomb at St. Praxed's Church Thomas Carlyle - Sartor Resartus John Henry Cardinal Newman - Idea of the University John Ruskin - The Stones of Venice John Stuart Mill - The Subjection of Women Matthew Arnold - Dover Beach, The Scholar Gypsy, Culture and Anarchy, Sweetness and Light Thomas Henry Huxley - Agnosticism and Christianity Arthur Hugh Clough - The Latest Decalogue Christina Rossetti - The Goblin Market, In an Artist's Studio Dante Rossetti - The Blessed Damozel Gerard Manley Hopkins - God's Grandeur, 'No Worst, There is None,' The Windhover, Spring and Fall: To a Young Child, 'Thou Art Indeed Just, Lord' Oscar Wilde - The Importance of Being Earnest William Butler Yeats - 'Easter, 1916,' The Second Coming, Leda and the Swan, A Prayer for My Daughter, Sailing to Byzantium, In Memory of Major Robert Gregory, An Irish Airman Foresees His Death Wystan Hugh Auden - In Memory of W.B. Yeats James Joyce - Araby, "Proteus" (from Ulysses) Rupert Brooke - Soldier Siegfried Sassoon - They Wilfred Owen - Dulce et Decorum Est Virginia Woolf - Mrs. Dalloway Joseph Conrad - Heart of Darkness Thomas Stearns Eliot - The Waste Land, The Hollow Men Samuel Beckett - Waiting for Godot George Orwell - Shooting an Elephant, Politics and the English Language Tom Stoppard - Arcadia Dylan Thomas - The Force That Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower, Do Not Go Gentle into that Goodnight Philip Larkin - Church Going Ted Hughes - Theology, Crow's Last Stand Seamus Heaney - Digging Ian McEwan - Saturday |
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| Saturday, December 8th, 2007 |
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i really want to see Wicked. i don't know why i didn't want to see it before, but now i really do. |
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| Wednesday, November 21st, 2007 |
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Robert Zemeckis ruined Beowulf. Bob the Butcher. Actually, how much he actually had to do with it, I don't know, but he directed so I'm blaming him. in other things, people suck. and there's really nothing more to say (except that i am once more writing about Mrs. Dalloway. it's really lunacy). |
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| Monday, May 21st, 2007 |
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i'm all ajitter and ready for kinkajou stew (without the kinkajou. or the stew). but really, i'm buzzing on the level of the particular, energy spilling about me. i can't control my fingers, i can't control my brain. (i just hope it all pans out). the week's not begun, but i can't wait for the weekend. home and muddy boots and ruby tuesday and other things of that sort. yet no dread for the week to come, merely hope that it won't lag. i'm glad to be at the Romantics. they do inspire me. |
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| Saturday, May 5th, 2007 |
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| i'm trying to build a new sun. i really need energy. | ||||
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| Wednesday, April 4th, 2007 |
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Keith Richards didn't really snort his dad. and Ursa Major's still a mess on my wall. my word. |
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| Thursday, March 15th, 2007 |
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Oh, good, a full three and a half hours to sleep. And here I thought I wouldn't get any sleep at all. I love writing papers. I wish that's all I ever had to do, every waking hour, listening to the delightful click of my fingers briskly tapping the buttons, writing about things I don't really care about. That would be fantastic. Ahh, but a dream, I know, still, so close I can almost brush my fingers across its gnarled and wiry form. Life would be a dream. |
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I must say, Carousel has to have the greatest plot of any musical ever conceived. Bad man slaps wife, dies. Dead man shows up to his daughter's graduation 18 years later, slaps daughter, finds redemption in singing a lovesong duet with his wife, and everybody's happy. The end. Moral of the story? There is hope for all. (In all fairness, Dead man slapped daughter because she refused the star he stole from Heaven to give to her as a graduation present. I would have slapped her, too, with or without the refusal- just for good measure. And, to keep things level, daughter didn't know Dead man was Daddy, so she probably thought he was offering her drugs or used kleenex). Brigadoon is next on the list for best story, but I'll save that for another day. I have an essay to finish and a final to study for and a workshop to attend at 11. Me oh my oh. p.s. a very amusing bit of related trivia: the song "You'll Never Walk Alone," sung once after the death of Bad man (who becomes Dead man) and reprised in the final graduation scene (you know, where Dead man slaps daughter), is also customarily sung at British football matches (that would be soccer), especially by Liverpool and Celtic fans. |
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| Wednesday, March 14th, 2007 |
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| Monday, March 12th, 2007 |
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| i smell the earth baking through my window. it excites me, the heat of the day. | ||||||
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| Saturday, February 24th, 2007 |
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i do love clovers. |
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LiveJournal for Katlyn.
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restless.
amused.