Just had a rather nice discussion in 285, in which I actually participated quite a bit. Go, me. Maybe I won't fail. =P No chance of that, I think, but it's probably the class I'm most worried about. Mark Spence has got to admit that my participation has improved exponentially in two years. When I had him for Freshman Preceptorial, I may have spoken up twice on my own without being called on, and I always sounded...well, stupid. I was half asleep, I never did the reading, I was confused in general. Yeah. At least now I do the reading. =)
Hee. I asked Mark Spence where he thought the Lewis and Clark expedition started, since that's the focus of his historical study...he's a St. Louis advocate because that's where all the members came together and where the journal starts. Makes sense to me. He said he's eaten in Clarksville before, which is strange. It's always strange to me to think of anyone from Knox in Clarksville. Two different worlds colliding, that.
I went to see Quincy Troupe last night. He's this black poet, a professor from California, and he was amazing. I was in such a rotten mood all day--more on that later--and he completely turned it around for me. It was just so powerful, his rhythm, his force. He was always moving, always confronting with his poems. "My poems have holes sewn into them." I just...well, I certainly don't have the words. If you ever have the opportunity to see him read, then GO. It was probably the most memorable poetry reading I've ever been to. He's funny, he's right on, he's moving, and he glorifies in words. Gotta love that.
Anyway, here's my bad day. Started out bad because I had lots of trouble sleeping the night before as usual. 307 was...well, kind of traumatic. The stories were horrible (not badly-written horrible, but subject matter horrible)--just, shocking. The last story we did left us on a very depressed note and when I came home, Mark had already gone to bed, leaving a rather depressing away message and without saying anything to me. I couldn't focus on 330 reading, so I just went to bed and lay awake for a long time. I must've slept at some point, because I woke up early to read, and got nothing done, because I still couldn't really focus. I went to breakfast with Mark and nothing was said. Like, I was just so tired and dejected and worrying about getting my reading done. Then I went to the bank. I deposited a paycheck, and I haven't spent any money lately, yet my balance was less than it was last time. I'm going to call them about that today and see if they can shed any light on it. Anyway, so I spent most of the morning going over deposit slips and receipts, trying to figure out what I'd left out. Wasn't hungry, decided to skip lunch and work. Kinda started having a nervous breakdown, and went down to the basement to read and do laundry. Brought a load back up, and Mark had left me a message saying there was taco salad--my favorite meal--but that he'd already gone and eaten. It just made me sad. I hate being alone these days. So I'm like, fuck it. I kept reading and doing laundry. Started crying numerous times. How pathetic is that?
Anyway, it started to get better after that...330 wasn't bad, the conversation didn't stick too closely the plotline in class, and then practice was nepenthe...it was a nice run. And then, one more bad thing. We went into the caf and Mark decided he should sit with the TKEs. It just kind of hurt me because he knew I was having a bad day and I hadn't spent any time with him. But then he came and found me in the Gizmo afterwards, and kept me company until the Troupe reading, so it was fine. We also talked about it last night, and it was cleared up. Well, maybe not cleared up, but at least we understand each other better on that particular issue.
Ack! I cannot say how relieved I am that it is Friday and that there is no meet tomorrow. No practice too, kudos to Pio. I will sleep in, and it will be fantastic.
Anyway, I turned in Jonathon's story--which STILL doesn't have a title--and it will be workshopped next Wednesday. Oh, so nervous already!