i have finally come to a junction in this game i'm playing: let's try to take up masters in the state university and see if things get as fucked up as predicted. my first semester is about to end. instead of accomplishing my requirements (15 pages of crit and 30 pages of stories due on tuesday and on wednesday respectively), i choose to stagnate and to ruminate.

i choose to count my scores.

this morning was the last session in european literature. this is a 9am-12 sat class, so naturally i always get up at...9 to be able to arrive at dr. schriever's office before 10. and just as in excellent work of fiction, the chosen framework of the course for this semester serves as the perfect foreshadowing in the story of my life. politics of mourning. the reading list partially consists of gift of death, work of mourning, the stranger, a very easy death, illiad, antigone, this way to the gas ladies and gentlemen and other novels dealing with the subject of death.

i must admit that talking about death and mouring session after session after session was kinda fun and interesting. fun in a cryptic way. (when i say cryptic, i mean borderline rio diaz-cryptic.) but the knot that tied the noose around my neck was the attempt at understanding jacques derida's ouvre. that really hit me and i was staggering with my literary skills (the little that i have) by the end of the third session. dabbling into post-structuralism left ME deconstructed.

and dr. schriever. dr. schriever is a dear dear proffessor. she would correct us whenever we mispronounce french words (half the discussion in total was a crash course in french diction). she would send the class text messages if she was going to be late (as in everyone. then again we were only like a dozen) or if she wouldn't make it to class.

but as i have said, today was the final meeting. in addition to the brewed coffee we would have in her office every morning, there was...wine and cheese. she brought two bottles of spanish chauvignon and a classmate (whom i surmised to be allergic to alcohol) brought a bottle of california red. everyone but me, lisa and dr. schriever stopped after their first glass.

after my tenth glass, derida was starting to be clear, and driving home seemed to be something that would require effort. the cheese was superb, we all could not stop munching on it.

(to be continued. i think i should be going back to my papers.)

posted by carl @ 1:30 AM