Marc
My first critique of the semester went great. I could not believe how much the rest of my class seemed to like my half-creative non-fiction/half-travel essay. And no one seemed to mind that it was 20 pages long, or only 1/144th of the way done, though I was told that I wouldn't be allowed to completely finish the piece without major compression for the final portfolio. It was such a relief, though intensely nerve wracking. Maybe that's why I passed out on the couch during both Simpsons episodes tonight. God damn, what a bummer.
I guess I shouldn't have been suprised much by the buzz that I seemed to have created, seeing as how I've taken another creative writing class here and it wasn't much to think about, but still, it was such a relief. Here I was, going into the class figuring I was going to get stoned to death by these kids for being so long winded, but they started asking me questions as soon as I walk into the door, and I'm answering them graciously and trying not to smile too much. I kept my good looks concealed as well, by wearing the stocking cap the entire class period, to also hide the fact that the hair was a mess for the third day in a row. Zook and I agreed that stocking caps indoors were silly a few months back, but I'm beginning to change my mind. I kind of like it. I wore a collared shirt, and even was told by the graduate student that runs the class that I look kind of "David Foster Wallace-ish, and my piece, though its not derivative really, has that kind of a feel to it." Am I blushing? Is it getting hot in here? Maybe I should take off the hat. Yowza's!
On second thought, the hat stayed on. But I still smiled a whole bunch.
Stinkpalm him.
My first critique of the semester went great. I could not believe how much the rest of my class seemed to like my half-creative non-fiction/half-travel essay. And no one seemed to mind that it was 20 pages long, or only 1/144th of the way done, though I was told that I wouldn't be allowed to completely finish the piece without major compression for the final portfolio. It was such a relief, though intensely nerve wracking. Maybe that's why I passed out on the couch during both Simpsons episodes tonight. God damn, what a bummer.
I guess I shouldn't have been suprised much by the buzz that I seemed to have created, seeing as how I've taken another creative writing class here and it wasn't much to think about, but still, it was such a relief. Here I was, going into the class figuring I was going to get stoned to death by these kids for being so long winded, but they started asking me questions as soon as I walk into the door, and I'm answering them graciously and trying not to smile too much. I kept my good looks concealed as well, by wearing the stocking cap the entire class period, to also hide the fact that the hair was a mess for the third day in a row. Zook and I agreed that stocking caps indoors were silly a few months back, but I'm beginning to change my mind. I kind of like it. I wore a collared shirt, and even was told by the graduate student that runs the class that I look kind of "David Foster Wallace-ish, and my piece, though its not derivative really, has that kind of a feel to it." Am I blushing? Is it getting hot in here? Maybe I should take off the hat. Yowza's!
On second thought, the hat stayed on. But I still smiled a whole bunch.
Stinkpalm him.
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