So my post-Studio 60 blog is getting to be a habit. Tonight was fun, but not as good as last week. Matt and Danny definitely make the show worthwhile, though, and their banter is awesomely good. Also appreciated were jokes about Moliere.
The title of this post comes from the shock I had today. Whilst observing in the Writing Center (where I now work, earning a fat paycheck that may actually raise me out of the poverty level this year), a student casually commented that she remembered exactly where she was on 9/11. She was at school, dutifully attending classes. In the eighth grade.
I, of course, was lazily whiling away a morning in Atlanta, preparing to begin my senior year of college. I now feel very old, in a way that I haven't felt old before. Guess I'll have to drink a lot this weekend to counter that feeling. Cause when you're hung over, you don't feel anything but hung over.
This weekend, watched Groundhog Day (on sale at Target for $7, made me nostalgic for winter and angry at the 80 degree weather we had today) and saw Little Miss Sunshine (very good, even though the English grad students were the only ones laughing at the Proust jokes, which made me feel like an intellectual snob (which I love)). I also found that one of the great joys of being a book reader is going back and rereading books you haven't touched in forever. I tend to use whatever's at hand as a bookmark. I normally find bits of paper, straw wrappers, napkins, hunks of cardboard, actual bookmarks (I'm always more shocked by these than anything else, though I still don't know where my Saruman bookmark it), etc. This past weekend, I found an old Far Side comic, from around 2000. Brought me great joy, for some indescribable reason.
Other than that, I'm spending the week besieged by students, who all feel the need to meet with me and discuss their papers, due this Friday. I think I frightened them last week. Excellent. But not quite so excellent, they all need to meet outside my office hours, so I'm pretty much cancelling everything else I have going. But if it means I have to read a few less crappy thesis statements, I'll be content. Or even more pained, as they still write bad papers even after meeting with me several times.
But then, who really knows how the mind of the undergraduate works? Not me, that's for sure. I guess I'm just too old.
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4 comments:
I also enjoyed the Moliere jokes, but the commedia dell'arte stuff hits a little closer to home as my college mentor was a big fan of commedia and used to perform a lazzi about eating a fly at the slightest provocation... and hurrah for theatre TMI
As a fellow undergrad-hater, you'll appreciate this. I just robbed the undergraduate engineering student council here at UVA of like 6K. Well, not so much robbed as rightfully claimed on behalf of the graduate engineers whose money it actually is. Anway, the imporant thing is I screwed some undergrads over.
In other news....when did the Cardinals turn back into a baseball team? Have you been watching these games!!?
I'm just glad that this blog is no longer a talk about a bunch of books blog to a talk about a really good TV show blog (as you are the only one who updates anymore and saves me from the bores of office life).
My students were born in 1991. Yeah, they only remember one Bush presidency and they were finishing elementary school during 9/11. I old.
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