“Brevity is the soul of wit.”
– William Shakespeare (Hamlet)
I learned this week…
…that finding a link between Truman’s Cold War policies and the civil rights movement is easy. Writing a paper arguing the connection is not. I can’t remember the last time I wanted to bang my head against my desk….oh wait…yes, I do. Last semester when I wrote that paper about Thomas Hobbes and absolute power.
…that waiting for my professor to grade the above-mentioned paper is excruciating. Generally speaking, I am a pretty patient person. I don’t get too worked up about things, and I’m far from someone who requires instant gratification. Except when it comes to my writing. I think, in part, this speaks to the level of insecurities I have about my own ability as a writer. I worked hard to construct a meaningful work, and when I submitted it to my professor, I was confident I hit the mark. Now, more than a week and a half later, I’m having doubts. Did I take the topic in the right direction? Is it in-depth enough? Is it too detailed? Have I made a persuasive argument? Should I have picked this particular subject matter knowing my professor is a Cold War enthusiast?
As you can see, the wait is killing me. I have gnawed my fingernails to the quick and am currently resisting the overwhelming urge to drop by his office unannounced or send him a string of stalker emails with the following:
“Have you graded my paper yet? Have you? Have you? Have you?”
“Did you like it? You liked it, right? Say you liked it. You didn’t like it, did you? Damn it.”
“Please, please, please Dr. P, grade my paper. I need to know. Like, now. Before I die from not knowing.”
“Ugh! Tell me!”
…that despite my best efforts, I’m still prone to bouts of resentment. I like to think that I have evolved enough to rise above the pettiness and spite that comes with disdain, but in truth, I have not. I’ve complained ad nauseam about my group project. It’s been the bane of my existence for weeks now. Last Friday, we did our final presentation. Two of us earned an A. The rest of the group…well…frankly, got a free A to boost their lagging course grade. And yes, that boasts of bitterness. And no, I don’t care. I’m not feeling overly charitable at the moment. I have marked them all off my Christmas cookie list.
…that I’m going to have to take some sort of statistics class. That really pisses me off. So much so, that I can’t bring myself to find any humor in it. Give me a week or two.
…that my spare bedroom furniture will soon be gone and I will be the proud new occupant of my very own home office space. I’m over the moon about it. My family is pretty stoked, too. They will finally be able to venture into the kitchen without being leveled by my stink eye for disturbing my creative vibe.
…that I’ve lost ten pounds since the beginning of the semester. Stress is a hell of a diet plan. I don’t recommend it. I’m a firm believer in healthy weight loss – i.e. eating rabbit food and sweating like a pig. However, I’ve got to say, it’s kinda nice knowing I’m going into the holiday baking season with a little wiggle room. Bring on the snicker doodles! And the chocolate peanut butter fudge, and the peppermint almond bark, and the cocoa ginger crisps…
…that I think I am looking forward to the holidays.
I’ll give you a minute to absorb that.
Okay. Are you good? No one needs medical attention?
I’m not a big fan of this time of year. I dislike the clutter, the crowds, and the commerciality of it all. Yes, this makes me a jerk. I’m alright with that. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again (because it bears repeating) – my ideal holiday involves sun, white sandy beaches, and a margarita – or ten. I make no apologies for myself.
I feel a little different this year. I find myself wanting to drag out that damn tree and all its messy trimmings. I’ve bought a half a dozen Christmas gifts, scoped out a few more, and ordered my Christmas cards. I even R.S.V.P.’d to an annual Christmas party I have successfully avoided…well…always. Of course, I’m not sure this last one counts. It’s being held in the new Perot Museum of Nature and Science, and I’ll admit to an ulterior motive in accepting the invite.
I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I fear someone might have forgotten to wash their hands and has now infected me with the Christmas spirit. Not cool, people. Not. Cool.
…that Princess Kate is going to have a baby, and is suffering from a bad bout of morning sickness. Okay, I love the romantic notion of the Royals as much as the next gal, but is this really front page, above-the-fold, news? Call me a killjoy (it’s okay, I’ve been called worse), but I think the looming fiscal cliff, the UN recognition of a Palestinian state (and the Israeli reaction), the absence of good faith negotiations and compromise in government policy making, the implication that the Syrian government may be contemplating the use of chemical weapons, the moving of Patriot missiles to Turkey, and…oh yes…the new Egyptian’s president’s move toward a totalitarian government just a tad more important than a Royal bun-in-the-oven.
But what do I know.
…that I do love a story without a happy ending. Why? Because life is messy, and happy endings are the stuff of legends and fairy tales. Cynical? No. Realist.
I just finished John le Carre’s The Spy Who Came in from the Cold. It’s an early Cold War spy thriller set in 1963 when the Wall was new, Germany was divided, and Khrushchev ruled over the Soviet Union. The thing I love about this story is that there is no clearly defined good guy or bad guy. Certainly there is the fundamental clash of ideologies – individualism and democracy vs. totalitarian socialism, but what you see in this novel is a questioning of morality on both sides of the Iron Curtain, and the lengths each will go in order to advance their political belief systems. I found it a fascinating study of human nature.
“A man who lives apart, not to others but alone, is exposed to obvious psychological dangers. In itself, the practice of deception is not particularly exacting; it is a matter of experience, of professional expertise, it is a facility that most of us can acquire.” – John le Carre
“People who play this game take risks. Fielder lost, Mundt won. London won – that’s the point. It was a foul, foul operation. But it’s paid off, and that’s the only rule.” – Alec Leamas
And as always, I am amazed by le Carre’s ability to weave such an intricate story with arcing tension without the use gratuitous action.
…that this blog entry seems to be nothing more than one big negative rant-fest. My inner rebellious self seems to be in a bad mood this week. I shall have to work on that.
…and last, but not least, this week’s awww moment is brought to you by my silly dog, Rocco. I went a little snap-happy with the camera this week and he let me know it was not cool. It’s the same look my daughter gives me.