Rambles

I haven't written an actual entry in so very long, and as usual, I'm coming here to vomit out words because I can't really process Freud, or any of the 100,000 articles I bookmarked that are tangential to my Postcolonial Lit research paper, which incidentally, my professor tells me, is on a topic that hasn't really been covered in academia. OH JOY! And I, little old stupid me, who doesn't understand theory after 3 and a half years in college, has to tackle that ginormous task. I'd rather write my other paper due for this class on the function of FOOD with respect to cultural identity and other such things in The Reluctant Fundamentalist, one of the best books I've read in my Postcolonial Lit class so far.

I am also stressing about choosing classes for the LAST COLLEGE SEMESTER OF MY LIFE, which makes me very forlorn and depressed. I was speaking to Lisa today and figured out that my life plan is to get rich quick, and then spend my money auditing classes at some awesome small liberal arts college (well, preferably Wesleyan so I can stick around and watch the crazy kids streak naked and set off fireworks when Obama wins again, or smoke up in a crowd of hundreds on 4/20) for the rest of my life. I just want to listen to things clever people talk about ... ALL THE TIME. Mostly I want to hear them talk about History and English and um, Buffy The Vampire Slayer. (Totally serious. Am hoping to take a class next semester just because I'm pretty sure the professor will teach Buffy.)

I really wish college would last forever. I mean, where else can I fight the gloominess of a sunset at 4.45pm by writing poems in 7th Century Arabic poetic forms with my lovely classmates? Where else can I find people that actually use gender neutral pronouns in daily life? Or who actually eat something called SEITAN? Where else can I listen to authority figures swear or cut class short because they were way too jubilant post-election? At which other time in my life will it be appropriate for me to get really really wasted in a fancy hotel, tackle a man in a scary mask, do splits in the middle of a ballroom or dance with a grown man wearing a diaper? When will I ever have enough time to make random things like Moroccan food and sugar donut muffins for myself just when I feel like it? And the list goes on endlessly.

I've reached some kind of crisis point. I really want the real world to back away right now. I want to stay firmly fixed in this little ivory tower, in my college bedroom with a double bed(!) and bay windows, a stone's throw away from everything I've loved and adored for the past 3 and a half years.