Woohoo!

Tuesdays are now my favorite favorite day of the week, and it will be for at least the next three or four weeks. Because hooray! Heroes and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip are back! They’re back! Back in all their glory! New shows are being produced and aired on Monday nights in the States and on a Tuesday morning I can have them for my very own! Yay, yay, yay, yay!

I skipped my American literature lecture today, which just makes this particular Tuesday one hour brighter. There are three reasons for this lapse in academic perfection on my part, the most obvious one being the presence on my computer of new episodes of Heroes and Studio 60 (the former was a little disappointing and not very exciting and I have not finished watching the latter but so far it’s lovely); but then the other reason is that my alarm clock time was off by forty-five minutes so I didn’t wake up until 8:40 and I didn’t realize it until it was already past 9, which is when my lecture is; and then the other other reason is that the lecture today is on Allen Ginsberg and I just can’t be bothered with “Howl”.

(I always look up things on Wikipedia while I’m writing these blog entries–I don’t know why it always works out this way. I just looked up Allen Ginsberg to see what his exact dates were, and Wikipedia alerted me to the fact that Ginsberg, while at university, drew an “ironic swastika” on his window and “wrote a letter implying that the president of the university had no testicles”. I’m not sure where I’m going with this. I guess I wanted to keep you updated on the Ginsberg ironic swastika and testicles situation.)

I’m in such a good mood now that I’m not even going to complain about the lifts in the Albert Sloman library and how they require a whole new set of social behaviors that are very complicated and nervewracking. Instead I shall scatter flowers and sing merry tunes as I skip off to my American literature seminar where I have to give a presentation on Ezra Pound’s Canto I.

(Did you see that paragraph? That was the paragraph of buzzkill. Buzz slaughter. Ruthless buzz holocaust. I hate Ezra Pound now. Big erudite Mussolini-lover.)

(There is nothing funny about Ezra Pound. In the trivia section of his Wikipedia article, it says, “‘Pound on freedom during World War II: “There is no freedom without economic freedom.’” Ha, ha, ha, ha — oh wait. There is nothing funny about that AT ALL. In fact it is boring. In fact I just woke up from being slumped over the keyboard fast asleep because of how boring Ezra Pound is.)

Tuesdays aren’t that great really. Ultimately. Just not that exciting at the end of the day. And I didn’t read any of Ezra Pound’s poems for class today except the one I’m doing a presentation on.