artist: eva cassidy
song: songbird
I wrote a rather intriguing post last night that I lost at the mericless hands of Internet Explorer. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that intriguing, but I liked it and mourned its loss.
It has been a very, um, cultural week. On Tuesday, Holly and I went to an interactive feminism panel discussion, which was interesting and entertaining. Last night, we went to a fiction reading by Randall Kenan. We read his novel A Visitation of Spirits in humanities--a very good book. He read from his contribution to Killing the Buddha, and it was great. I really enjoy his writing. So much so that I came back and ordered his collection of short stories Let the Dead Bury Their Dead from half.com. Anyway, he signed our books (and Holly'll have a picture in the paper tomorrow of her and ol' Randall Kenan), and I got the "Hovie touch." I count myself blessed. That is until tonight when a slew of us decided we should go see Murray State's production of Medea. Okay, some went because their classes required it, but I was among those foolish few who went for kicks. I quote my comments from directly after the play: "I just came for kicks. Yeah, I wanna kick myself in the face." I'm going to let that be my only formal negative comment about the play because I know a lot of work went into it and what not, but sheesh...
So I've got both a humanities test and a Spanish test tomorrow. I am relatively unconcerned. The humanidades test doesn't scare me that much. Espanicular, on the other hand, can never be good. I feel somewhat comfortable with the material, but I need to work on my vocabulary more. Oh, well. I'll have a little cram-session tomorrow morning. And I wonder why I'm not going to be able to pull an A off in that class.
I was a classless lot today, but I am pretty tired. I think I would've rather had classes to get me a-stirrin'. At least I'd have an excuse for why I accomplished nearly nothing today.
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