L A P S U R A | blog

My lit theory prof asked me today if I'd thought about doing honours or masters (or both) in english. My reply: "I used to. The reason I chose not to is because I hate english...but not this class. This class is awesome." Which is completely true. She said something like "Oh good...I mean, it's too bad you didn't enjoy your other english classes, but good that you like this one." I can't decide...it would seem that I have some sort of aptitude for english. It's kind of like when I decided to leave music performance (except I liked that, a lot). People used to ask me why I changed out of music. They never seemed to understand that there was no reason, so I started saying "because I do stupid things." Like english, I guess.

It would appear that I've gotten a scholarship for this summer...but I have to take an additional class. Unfortunately, all the easy classes are either half over or full or the wrong time or off-campus. I'm not sure if I really want to take another class, even though I'd get full tuition. Actually, that's not true; I know darn well I don't want to take any more classes than necessary. We'll see what develops.

Crakespeare class was awesome today. Because I left halfway through. I think I've encapsulated the very complex meaning of Crakespeare perfectly: Crakespeare in the Lapsionary.