Happy Critics

How often does it happen that you're reading secondary material for an essay of dubious interest and you find a critic whose prose is so pleasing that you just might read it for fun? Well it just happened to me for the first time. Rod Edmond's book Representing the South Pacific is succinct and clever and basically smart. It isn't a topic I'm particularly interested in, but his prose gives academic writing a new lease on life. Edmonds is teaching at Kent, which had originally been my first choice for graduate work. Is it coincidence or a fact of academic incest? 

One class period left. Two papers remaining. Eleven full days until submission and vacation! 

Six Eyes

I have six eyes now but I only wear four at a time. I first thing I noticed when I tried on my new specs at Boots was that my nose is blotchy. My instinct was to take them right off so that the young male sales clerk wouldn't see my blotchy nose. 

The second thing I noticed was that the woman walking down the street in front of me had freckles on her calves. In the past skin coloration would blur into smooth peachiness. Now I see flaws. So despite the fact that I can now talk to people with my eyes wide open, can read important signs and menus, and can safely operate machinery, I can't help but wonder if my plain brown blurry eyes were more, well, kindly disposed towards the outside.  

Hardly Working

I have an astonishing ability to sleep in past ten o'clock and still take an afternoon/evening nap. Particularly when the alternative is writing a paper I no longer have much interest in. Perhaps I need the pressure of a deadline. Maybe two weeks is too distant.

To provide further distraction today, I watched episodes of Tool Time. I kind of miss 90s television about normal, mostly functional families like Family Matters, Life Goes On, etc... I also found out I have the same Myers-Briggs personality type as Hilary Clinton, Michelle Obama, and Laura Bush and that potential career prospects include law and librarianship and tend more towards higher education than secondary education. I don't trust those test of course. How can 30 questions or so, most of which I'm unsure of the answer, tell you three pages worth of advice about yourself. Also, the website listed Isaac Newton's personality type. As far as I know.... 

This procrastinating must stop. 

Mine eyes

I went to an optometrist this morning to replace the spectacles (as they are called here without affect) I lost in January. They offered a buy one get one free deal (yay!) and I can hardly wait until next week when I can start seeing again and being seen in two different styles. I think they should separate optometrists from sellers of eyewear. I am way too persuadable. 

After a Dorothea Smartt reading

Okay so tonight I feel incredibly fortunate to have access to University lectureships and readings. Even if I can't see myself doing a PhD or becoming a professor, I must keep literary readings and socially conscious authors in my life. How can I ensure this? 

Perplexed in Leeds

Not counting down

Three classes remain of the semester. I suspect I am losing my eyebrows. Too much forehead bashing I imagine. 

Flip-Flop Finales

I love it when professors love a book. John McLeod is just such a professor. His emotional response to Caryl Phillip's final section of Crossing the River made my whole semester. Can I really only have four literature classes left in my life? 

In addition to the Coetzee reading in June, I am planning to hear Caryl Phillips give a paper on V.S. Naipaul in May. Zach and I also bought tickets to a Lisa Hannigan concert in two weeks. The sun and the celebrities are out for the season. The British people are all wearing shorts and flip-flops. 65 degree weather in AZ would merit long sleeves I think.