coming home post- the meeting of my very first seminar, during which my best actively listening facial muscles -- since i sure as hell wasn't about to open my mouth -- (what could i contribute to a theoryhead conversation, even one about reading i did? the seven other people around that table, mostly senior history honors majors, *knew* the difference between post-modernism and positivism and can intelligently argue about the merits of both. i miss the days of "vocab boxes" in the bottom corners of worksheets. in hebrew classes it was even better: the term was "otzar milim", lit., the treasure of words. who could call structuralism a treasure and keep a straight face?) -- i tried not to become too depressed at the prospect of spending a semester in this fashion and i blasted indigo girls. there simply was not an alternative.
but this evening, after conversations w/ two out-of-swat friends cheered me and i did some laundry and sundry, the only appropriate music to blast was tori amos. don't you love that song about wanting to kill the waitress? i think it's classic. as i'm unfortunate enough to be a junior residing on a hall teeming with freshmen, i feel that rendering services such as these impromptu lessons in musical apprecation are the best i can do. and sundry. i love that as an end to sentences.