Everyone knows I'm in over my head . . .

(I know, lame of me to title today's blog post after a song by The Fray that was freakishly overplayed on the radio 2-3 years ago.)

I had the brilliant idea of taking six classes this quarter, which isn't too bad, quite honestly, in some respects. I couldn't get Spanish Lit jammed into my schedule, so I decided to take up learning Italian! WHOOHOOO new language!!!

The problem, actually, is that one of my classes is literary theory and has - I swear on upon my bibles which are currently (because my literary bibles tend to change) Pablo Neruda's Twenty Love Poems and A Song of Despair and Allen Ginsberg's Howl and Other Poems - made me somewhat want to melt into a tragic puddle of goo like the Wicked Witch of the West (Poor Elphaba! I rather liked her in Wicked). This theory stuff is so lost on me and I FEEL like a tragic puddle of goo in my head. My grey matter has been beaten to a pulp trying to figure out the significance of poetics and linguistics and chronology and deconstruction.

Because I've maxed out on units for this quarter, I won't be doing any research with one of the lit professors on campus, like I had originally planned. It works out though, because she really doesn't need much help with anything until winter quarter, when I should be taking less classes. Not should. Will be taking less classes. I need to preserve SOME of my sanity.

Right now I should be reading, but I've been in class so long today that I think I need a break to blog and muse and obsess over silly things. Things like WHEN I'LL GET A WORKING PHONE. I wish I could find Professor Springer from last quarter so that I can tell her how much I am a cyborg now. One little piece of technology dies on me, and I feel as though I've lost my thumb or something. Suddenly, I feel more vulnerable and less competent to go about my daily business. That's ok, my laptop survived my aqueous tragedy, so I can obsessively email. See, Professor? There goes my ridiculous cyborg self, adapting with more technology!

Here's a list of my current obsessions:
1. Apple-Caramel lollipops
2. Vanilla Soy Chai from the Mandeville Coffee Cart
3. Really out-there nail polish names (my nails are currently painted "Skin Tight Denim Creme")
4. Fleurs de Cerisier perfume from L'Occitane
5. Certain colognes. I think my favorite is Giorgio Armani Black Code. During the summer I would spray the cologne on the sample strips from the fragrance section in the mall so that I could use them as bookmarks. The salesladies thought I was shopping for a scent for my boyfriend or something. Oh how wrong they were/are!
6. Bhanu Kapil's lists. I LOVE READING HER BLOG. I'm such a stalker on the internet, only not really. I justify my behavior in my head.
7. Feeling terribly embarrassed that Sarah Palin is the best woman McCain thought to take on. Her interviews with Katie Couric and the SNL skits are hilarious. If I didn't laugh at her, I don't know how I would deal with her ridiculousness.
8. Runs in the morning before the heat hits
9. Reading, while curled up in bed (who am I kidding, this is ALWAYS an obsession)
10. Epic movie soundtracks while I run (ie Gladiator, Lord of the Rings, The Dark Knight, etc) . It makes me feel like I'm going into battle or something.
11. BIC ball-point pens. Cheap and awesome
12. Guardian pens. It's a pity I've lost like 3 of them. They write super well too.
13. Eating dinner foods in the morning and breakfast foods at night
14. Throwing my clean laundry on the bed, only to jump in it and inhale all the good detergent smells
15. http://postsecretfrance.blogspot.com
16. Talking to people I don't know. (It's more acceptable at the beginning of the year when everyone's starting fresh again, and therefore more ok with awkward introductions.)
17. The colors green (like a foresty, dusky or mint green) and red and orange
18. Butterfly-shaped crackers (it makes me feel like I'm 5, and I love it . . even though I don't actually like butterflies.)
19. People-watching around campus on the buses/shuttles
20. Catching up with some of my favorite professors from before, and also a couple of TA's that are still around.

That was quite an extensive list. I was going to stop at 10 at first, but then I came up with a few more. And I had to stop at a multiple of 5 because nonmultiples of 5 tend to irk me. Particularly odd numbers. I tend to think that numbers like 11 and 17 and 19 are just too awkward to have. I'm awkward

Relocation

I'm in San Diego now.
Before I left for SD, I went through a bit of a glory-of-Rome phase. I read The Lives of the Caesars by Suetonius. Quite a fascinating read. Now there's an ancient scholar who would have provided quite an interesting interview on the History Channel (which tries to get the celebrated but more interesting historians and specialists for their programs). Suetonius' descriptions of the lives of the Caesars, starting from Julius Caesar, are very detailed, but in a way that really explains the character of the ruler. Weird habits and beliefs and the like. Like the fact that Julius Caesar started combing his hair forward because he was self-conscious about going bald. HAH. History suddenly becomes human and not so removed from now.

Then I decided that I wanted to watch Gladiator, so I did. I love Russell Crowe in this movie, then again . . I like a lot of his movies. He chooses to be a part of many good projects. Then I got pulled into my love for the Gladiator soundtrack, which was written by Hans Zimmer, who also wrote the soundtrack to The Dark Knight. God the man is talented.

Now I'm rereading some of my favorites from this summer, namely "The Mysterious Stranger" by Mark Twain and Big Sur by Jack Kerouac. I'm still exploring darkness in effort to be reconciled with it.

School starts so soon. I can't wait.

Twenty years old and I am still afraid of the dark.
The woods and hills metastasize into one
Black Giant And
Make me feel small and
so insignificant.
In the darkness I shrink Or
Perhaps the shadows grow. Yes.
It must be the shadow are growing
They're threatening to swallow me and
I'm not ready yet or ever.
I don't want to be alone in the dark at night.

My dialogues and monologues sound better in my head.

The smokiness of the sencha is doing wonders
To fight off the thick fog that has settled in my brain
And chilled my limbs to sluggishness.
Not the shocking electricity
Battering ram of Columbian brew but
Cleaner.
Smoky topaz clarity, wizened.

I miss things that I shouldn't miss.
Makes me feel stupid
Handicapped
Bound and gagged and tied to
The past.
I need a knife to cut myself free No, NO
No knives I need air and space to breathe.
Breathing and thinking but NOT
Too much. It Hurts. Or
Is it remembering that hurts?

Image shopping is draining. I feel
Small again and the darkness is creeping in.