Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Baby Don't You Wanna Go...

I've recently reread The Count of Monte Cristo, and I've come to the conclusion that our lives are not so dissimilar. We both underwent extremely harsh educations in stone prisons. And we both plan to use our knowledge to revenge ourselves upon the world (except he punished the guilty, while I plan to punish future students). In other words, it's been finals week here, and I had to write a long, ill-prepared paper and take a laughably easy final (maybe not easy, but laughable in the amount of work I put into it). So now summer is here, and escaping the Ivory Tower is, in its way, not unlike Edmond Dantes' escape from the Chateau d'If.

This is my long way of saying I haven't posted because I've been busy. So this post will be mostly highlights of the past few weeks, including tales of the sublimity of sleep, editing at the mechanics, and many instances of the truly bizarre.

First, the wonderful. I passed my Spanish for Reading Knowledge Test with an Advanced Proficiency. (For those of you not in the know, we at Madison need two foreign languages for the PhD. This test officially counts as my second, and I got a higher proficiency than I needed.) Of course, this is odd as I believe my translation included the fact that Hemingway led an elite band of guerillas into the heart of Paris during WWII. But who am I to question the wisdom of our teacher? Or of Papa H, for that matter? Further proof that he could so take Henry James.

That same morning, I saw two homeless men get kicked out of McDonald's for rolling joints on the counter. The management took offense to this, and apparently it wasn't the first time, as the manager told them he'd warned them about that before. Still, it was testament to the egalitarianism of the homeless, as the one had no weed, while the other was willing to share his excess. Truly, the meek shall inherit the Earth.

That evening commenced our grad student conference, which continued all weekend. It went well, though it occupied the majority of my time. Our keynote was fun, and I actually managed to pay for her expenses, something I was fearful of (I am treasurer of our little group, for my out of town folk).

That Friday, following the conference reception (wine and keg, small bits of food), we took the keg off to our friend Sarah's place (you may think this isn't a nickname, but oh, you'd be wrong. And it's even a nickname with layers). I, sadly, was staying somewhat sober, as I had my car with me. That night was perhaps the most surreal party I've been to in a long time. I had dropped folk off, went to get dinner, and returned. Upon arriving, I found my cohorts shooting at each other with a toy bow and arrow (yet with metal-tipped arrows). Sarah, when told I had gotten my own dinner as opposed to ordering pizza with them, seemed to believe I had ordered my own pizza, and asked for money to pay the guy when he got there. Repeated explanations did not help, but led to the following:

Me: I didn't order pizza.
Sarah: So how much money do you owe?
Me: None. I got McDonald's.
Sarah: Did you pay for it already?
Me: They generally don't let you leave without paying there.

We eventually got that settled, but the hilarity continued. Now this next section involves several folk I can't come up with good nicknames for, as I don't really know some of them that well (or well enough to know personal quirks and habits to mock). I'll just list several things, as any attempt to impose linerarity will be antithetical to the tone of the evening. In the course of the night, these things happened:

-The Norwegian shot Winter with the arrow, who shot her back in the neck, at point blank range (child's toy, no harm done, though the Norwegian would not shut up about it, as she was drunk, along with everyone else).
-The Norwegian, Winter, and UnionMan all played leapfrog, until the Norwegian's necklace broke and scattered in the grass, except for a few pieces, one of which UnionMan ate in front of her mockingly.
-The Norwegian and Winter tried to drunkdial me while I was standing right next to them, but they didn't know the last four digits of my number, so they called four random people before getting the sequence right.
-I broke the bow and arrow, as the string slipped off and it fell to the concrete, which was apparently too much stress (but it survived all the drunks pulling on it just fine). I then gave it back to the child, while Fangirl tried to explain how some carpenter's glue would fix it right up. My suggestion of duct tape was summarily ignored.
-Winter kicked UnionMan in the face. Because he asked her to.
-I got monster hiccups (again, while sober), which continued for almost half an hour and which I used to punctuate important points in the conversation.
-I believe we terrified some poor guy from Dartmouth, friend to Fangirl and her partner, who was visiting.
-I heard numerous repetitions about just how "carnivalesque" the party was, all of them from the Dissertator.

I can't remember much else, just the general surreal atmosphere of the night. If anyone recollects other choice moments, feel free to comment.

After the conference, things settled down. I wrote a 17 page paper in about three days, and edited it the morning it was due while I was at the mechanic getting my car fixed. Then I slept a lot. This weekend, having finished the only hard thing I had to do and thus nearly ending my semester, I decided to read Monte Cristo, a 1500 page epic, thus proving I am truly a nerd. Between that and replaying KOTOR 2, I've managed to waste the better part of a week. But I did study for my history final for a whole hour and a half (I had to read about the Carter and Reagan years for one of the essay questions). And I managed to sleep in till 11:30 today, only leaving the apartment to get dinner.

Now, I have to grade 12 portfolios tomorrow, as I am going to Chicago on Friday. I'm going in to see the Freshman 15 show (my old a cappella group), and to hang with Bluesman on Friday, brunch with Memi on Saturday, and then drive to the old homestead on Saturday to spend Mother's Day with the folks and recuperate for a week in St. Louis. I'm going in early, taking the Norwegian to O'Hare, thus freeing up the day for some fun Chicago stuff (Liquor Barn, Herm's, etc.). If I come back with a bottle of Napoleon Brandy shaped like Napoleon, all the better.

Next post, I explain to my out of town friends exactly what the term "prelims" means, and how exactly I'll spend my summer vacation. Start praying now.

2 comments:

kevin said...

I'm so jealous! I wish I were finished. I still have 20 papers, 40 exams, and my own terrible paper to write, and I can't seem to stop procrastinating by reading blogs.

When I arrived with UnionMan and Fangirl (I like to call her Britomart, although Fan girl is damn funny), we were introduced to the young man (Stalin, let's say), whose bow you later broke. On being told that UnionMan and Britomart were medievalists, he dropped to the ground and proceeded to bow in an "I'm not worthy manner". When he heard my area, he looked confused and dissapointed.

Scott said...

Yes! An update! Now all we have to do is convince Bourbon and Brownsox to do likewise.

The description of that party is almost enough to make me want to drive to Madison, too. But only if i'm promised an equally surreal party. Of course, i keep saying i'm going to go places and then my advisor dumps more and more work on me.

At least i don't have prelims yet. Yet.