Urg. Have been studying for the Milton midterm all day, if by "studying" you mean "reading a shitload I hadn't even gotten through once over in the first place." Paradise Lost is a tough read the first time through, y'all. Also--I can't remember if I mentioned this--the prof assigned us three new small pieces to read for the one (!) essay on the midterm, so we'd have something to talk about other than our notes regurgitated straight onto the page. Or the computer screen, rather--Chapman has booked us the education building computer lab for exam, because SHE ROCKS. Seriously, that's the one thing I really, really hate about exams--I've been typing for so long now that I can't write longhand for any length of time now. You can't read my handwriting anymore, my right hand has a spaz and dies, and my left hand gets bored. On the computer, though--I can tear this bitch up, so I'm almost excited about the whole thing.
I still don't know what I'm doing for my final paper, which will include a series of smaller assignments that will take up a crapload of time over the next two months, but I do not want to be writing it an hour before class starts the way I usually am. So, you know, three cheers for discipline and all.
Oh, and I'm still getting used to this whole "actually being home at night when good TV is on" thing. I totally forgot about Veronica Mars last night, and the TWOP recap guy is about to have fits trying to get people to watch. The recap of the pilot sounded really good, but then I started reading The Grim Grotto (finally!) last night and... I forgot about it.
(I am starting to get really concerned as to how Handler's going to pull the end of the series off--he's spent eleven books now promising us via the Lemony Snicket author/character that the story is awful and terrible and tragic and we ought to go read a book about ponies braiding each other's hair or what-have-you, and I'm going to feel cheated if the Snicket books have a happy ending... but I'm going to feel cheated if they don't, because I love those kids. I keep sitting here trying to imagine what I'd do in his position, as a writer, and I seriously cannot think of a way out.)
Ooo! Twenty minutes until Lost!