February 06, 2004 :: 2:48 a.m.
the unfortunate perversion of a sacred place
Ack! BookWorm is entirely too addicting. I got up to level 24 tonight - Thesaurus Rex! Which just makes me laugh like a hopped-up crack head, because I keep thinking "
God-lizard."
Yeah, I'm stupid.
Class was kind of poo tonight. I don't much care for this new group of people, which sort of ruins the whole thing. I loved it before because it was a good group, most of whom I really did like and as such was comfortable sharing stuff with. This group, however, I mostly cannot stand. There is me, Connie, Barb, and a man whose name I never really did learn - we're from the old group. Then there are the following new folks:
Katherine, who is the stupidest fucking person I have ever met. EVAR. And she's like 35, too, so youthful naivet� is not a valid excuse.
An older African-American woman whose name I do not know and who was not in class tonight.
Pat, another older woman who is a very good poet but extremely lacking in the personality department. I'd say I like her the most of the new people, just because I don't find her actively offensive.
Ann, who is from Perry County. She's very blonde, very religious, and says "You know what I mean?" at the end of every damn sentence.
And then there is Lauren, who I do find actively offensive. Very much so, in fact. She's a biologist. Which, actually, I would find interesting if everything else about her didn't make me want to inflict horrible physical trauma. She never shuts up. Never. It's like her mouth is physiologically incapable of closing and so she feels the need to speak at every given opportunity to disguise this gross physical anomaly. She acts like the professor, lecturing people on her experience with writing and interjecting her very important opinions every three seconds. Well, guess what lady? I didn't pay to hear you yap. I don't care about you. I am in class to listen to Prof. Wallace, who, by the way, writes WAY better poetry than your uppity ass, and to gather feedback from the ENTIRE class and also perhaps bounce my own opinions around every once in a while. It's not called Snotty Biologist Poet 108. GAH! Superiority complex, no sense of humor whatsoever, and apart from using lots of pretty words her poetry is cryptic and meaningless. I cannot stand her to the degree that just looking at her makes me twitchy with pent up violence.
So, in all, Creative Writing II has thus far been light years below its predecessor. Because really, camaraderie is the whole point. Without camaraderie there is no forum for honest feedback, and without a forum for honest feedback there is no point to the class. Ugh. I love how my favorite class had been perverted into a three-hour annoyance-fest. Except I don't really love it at all. Bastards. If HACC hadn't cancelled the West Shore class, these unpleasant beasts wouldn't be mucking up my Thursday night writing experience. Double bastards. A pox on all of their heads.
Okay, well, it's late, and I'm tired, and I need to get up before noon tomorrow, so that's all there is tonight. "That's all there is." Something about that just doesn't sound right. Hrm. But, whatever. Adieu.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005