Winter quarter is over. Rory and I are in Japan for spring break.

Winter quarter is always my worst quarter.

This was the essay topic on my English 179 final:
—How have ideas that derive from British imperialism and its literature influenced American writers' ideas about existentialism and the nature of psychology? Write a well-developed essay comparing two of the final four works read in class.

Imperialism. Literature. Existentialism. Psychology. Comparing works.


I wanted to cry.

The only reason I took the class was so I could read Thomas Pynchon's V for school credit. Before I could, however, I had to endure eight weeks of "representations of imperialism in Africa in the culture of the British Empire and the U.S. Cold War" with a doctoral graduate student who gave empty lectures and graded hard.

I wrote my professor a note in my blue book before turning it in:
—This class totally ruined my grad school opportunities. I'm so fucked.

The last time I annotated a final (winter quarter 2002, German Film History) I got a C+ in the class.

I don't think I'm going to be as lucky this time around.

—did bill oreilly just say
—retarded people dont punch babies in the face
—what is that supposed to mean

—new cuffed jean? how many different times are they going to sell chicks on capri pants
—fuckin idiots buy into it every time too

I'm looking for a song, sung by kermit regarding children. I'm a funeral director and have to bury three small children and thought it would be appropriate.
—what kind of bad funeral director needs to ask a Muppet website what song goes well with dead children?

My mother bought Truth or Dare Jenga.