one of my least favorite days of the week in san francisco is the day tuesday. tuesday means i have to get up early (especially early if i forget what time to set my alarm and end up setting it 45 minutes earlier than necessary), and it means i have a two hour break between shakespeare and poetry, my two least favorite classes. BUT TODAY in my 2 hour break i discovered, and subsequently stole, this picture from the flickr page of some french man. do you know you can look at other people’s personal pictures on flickr? have i mentioned that before? for 2 hours if you want to? is it unethical to steal them? well, this IS the internet we’re talking about. if I can figure out how to put some stranger’s self-portrait on my blog, shouldn’t i do it? isn’t it in fact UN AMERICAN not to? ESPECIALLY SINCE THIS GUY IS FRENCH???? that’s what i thought too.
in other news, i have practically given up on liking my shakespeare teacher since he a) decided that poor grades on the midterm mean the rest of the semester will be devoted to scene by scene plot explanation of king lear and b) told me he thinks the most important way to analyze shakespeare is through the lens of an elizabethan audience. i wish i had known i was in a history class for remedial readers sometime before the last two weeks of the term. i blame myself though. i shouldn’t just assume the number 500 and word “english” on the schedule mean “english class for upper-level college students.” after all, i know exactly what happens to a person when they assume. it’s something cute and involves “mes” and “u.”
i also want to make sure you know that i love printmaking and i am thinking of covertly becoming a full-time artist as soon as i find a benefactor. i would go into more detail about this but garth brooks is singing about his hot older woman experience and my eyes are slowly closing.
so i’ll get into that more later. and maybe post an application for benefactor.
i wish i was a young boy so some older, life hardened woman could tenderly remove my virginity. oh well. like i told my dad on the phone tonight: if wishes were horses, everyone would have a lot of horses and we would have to start shooting them for food and fuel except for the very special ones which we would let roam free and which we would occasionally ride, bareback, like laura ingalls on the cover of by the shores of silver lake.