November 04, 2001
Oh yeah. Lemme post a
Oh yeah. Lemme post a sizeable excerpt, to make up for 1) not posting one yesterday and 2) already being behind. I should explain that making fun of Wordsworth is a long-standing tradition with some of my friends...
A.J. spent the next forty-five minutes back in the Diag. The dew was dry by now, but the atmosphere was much less peaceful. Chattering students walked from class to class, some walking alone and chatting on cell phones, others in groups, moving with the instinct of long-time herd animals. A.J. was one of many sitting beneath the trees, reading (or in the case of some, sleeping or making out). While she was never one to believe in the power of cramming, it surely couldn't hurt to read a little more Wordsworth, could it? Well, aside from the usual pain that accompanied reading Wordsworth.
So passed the last few moments before A.J. headed back across State Street once more towards the LSA building. A.J. arrived outside the dreaded examination room as one of her classmates was leaving. "How bad is it?" A.J. asked.
The girl, a slender pixie of a thing with the short hair and freckles to prove it, shook her head. "Don't ask. Old Man Lindsay is in there. I don't think I've ever seen him look sourer."
"God," A.J. made a face in sympathy. "I'm dead. He's hated me ever since I called Shelley an overblown idealist."
The girl grinned. "Well, at least they didn't ask me about Shelley. It was mostly Wordsworth, thank God."
A.J. just groaned, then took a deep breath and headed into the classroom.
Waiting for her were a slender woman with short silver hair, a dour-faced man who looked old enough to have taught British Literature to Queen Elizabeth (the First), and graduate assistant who didn't look much older than A.J. herself.
"Good morning, Amanda," said the silver-haired woman, a crisp British accent behind her words.
"Good morning, Miss Woodson," added the ancient one, in a tone to match his face.
The GA just nodded.
"Good morning, Dr. Blackledge, Dr. Lindsay," A.J. replied, hoping the quaver in her voice wasn't too obvious yet.
"As you know," Dr. Blackledge began, "this examination will last for two hours, with two ten minute breaks. Do you have any questions before we begin?"
A.J. shook her head. "No, thank you."
"All right then. Dr. Lindsay?" Dr. Blackledge glanced over at the man.
"Miss Woodson," harrumphed the old man, "please explain the cultural significance of Wordsworth's 'Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey' as it relates to beginnings of the Romantic Movement in Britain..."
I will get to the genre stuff eventually. I promise.
Well. The good news is,
Well. The good news is, I had a wonderful weekend. I got to spend time with friends, had a date, skipped class, spent time with the world's two most adorable children, and started running a new RPG.
The bad news is, I'm behind on my word count. Up to 3646 -- I'd wanted to be at about 8,000 by today. So I have some catching up to do this week.
