I just packed a suitcase for Russia, due to general stress about where all my suff is going over the next year and a half, inability to do actual academic work, and some third motivation that I can't think of but will leave here because I don't feel like changing the sentence structure. Florescent orange wind pants and purple plaid pajama pants were rejected by Abby and Laurel as inappropriate to the gloomy landscape to which I go. But they'll never take away the mittens with neon fireworks/flowers/unidentified color bursts, I can promise you that. There must be a line, a point of personal integrity, that nothing can cross.
I went to a dinner for the graduating seniors of the religion department today. It involved a ridiculous ceremony in which the professors dressed up as the Roman pantheon with some Indian philosophers thrown in. Academic inside jokes flowed freely. What have I gotten myself into? Is this the world into which I strive to enter? Oh, academia, cruel and demanding mother, is this looniness the price one must pay for having a really easy job?
Russian class continues to spiral out of control. I don't even know how to begin to describe it, but if class had not gotten out 10 minutes early today I would have dissolved into a puddle on the floor.
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1 comment:
Ah, the mittens.
i want to hear more about Russian class.
And I did translate the website, (and was paid!) but they still haven't put up the translation.
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