i’m currently 2 thirds of the way done with my first day of graduate school. so far, things are looking fine. i woke up early enough that i wasn’t late for my 9:15 am class even though i missed about three busses i should have jumped on because i was confused about the definition of “uh, you know, across the street,” as it pertains to a 5 street intersection (the people who work in public transportation around here aren’t just mean, they are deliberatly unhelpful and i think that may be worse). my print making class could be cool, provided the teacher stops talking nonsense. she seems like the kind of lady however that stops the nonsense for no man. oh well. after i take this class i can take book arts which should be pretty f-ing cool.
after my first class i went to the poetry center to beg for a job. i’m more of a second impression-type person but the lady at the center seemed to be into my graduate student status even though i was sounding like an idiot and my face was red from the long underwear/sweatshirt combo that august san francisco is forcing me to wear. hopefully i get the job but if i don’t, i’m blaming the weather.
after i ate my lunch, i sat in on an undergraduate shakespeare class i am adding. it sounds like the perfect class: it’s undergraduate but it’s number is 500 something which sounds extremely smart to me; there are 2 multiple choice tests and one paper 4-6 pages long THE ENTIRE SEMESTER; out of the 5 plays we are reading, i’ve studied 4, one of which is king lear which i’ve studied at least twice; the teacher is funny; there are 134 students in the class; and i already have the book. i know this might sound like cheating on life but just imagine how much i will be able to tell you about king lear come january. a lot, okay?
in about 2 hours i have poetry writing. is this actually school? how come everyone else is always doing stuff like chemistry and sociology and i’m always the lucky one in poetry writing? this is a good question. i am probably just smarter than everybody else.
one other, mainly unrelated thing: last night i saw “revenge if the bookeaters,” with dave eggers, sarah vowell, patton oswald, aimee mann and some other sweet guitar playing dudes. it was mostly great except for dave eggers who didn’t read anything and just showed a video about his lovely literacy project that helps him sleep at night. he then proceeded to give people who gave 826 valencia $20 hugs in the lobby like he was so cool that people would pay him for a hug. which they did. sarah vowell’s style was better: for $5 she would give you a “buddy punch” on the shoulder. i might have paid that $5 if i hadn’t already paid about $40 plus bus fair to get to the middle of nowhere and hear a couple cool but random guys play 15 minute sets alone on their acustic guitars and hear aimee mann play a different 15 minute set and NOT hear dave eggers read. MAYBE. maybe if the 826 valencia people had responded to my volunteer application (all night they kept saying “volunteer with us; it’s so easy,” which is a lie). maybe if dave eggers hadn’t written a book about being so obscenely wealthy he was taping bills to donkeys. maybe. but some of us have to take the bus home. i gave him 15 cents. he’s not as cool as he used to be. maybe it’s because he’s older. or maybe i am. anyway, sarah vowell was totally hilarious as always which is not easy to do when you are writting about american history.
i’m tired now. the complete lack of interesting things i have to say is making me tired. so later then. i’ll be seeing you later.