You know what I think part of the problem is? There's this particular window of time when I remember everything clearly enough to recap it, but not so clearly that I get bogged down in the details. Because I've got the book movies here in front of me on DVD or in script form, I'm just wallowing in the details, and that makes them run a lot longer than "fifteen minutes," and that makes me fret, and... yeah. The funny stuff doesn't happen when I'm being accurate anyway. I need to take advantage of that window.
Dammit, I forgot that a new Veronica was on last night. Fnarr.
So today is my first day back in class. It's a M-W-F class, which isn't as ideal as the T-TH schedule, but on the upside, it's less than an hour. That doesn't even make sense to me, but okay. It's "The Aesthetics of Sentiment," and while I have an idea of what "sentiment" encompasses in a nineteenth-century sense, I... still have no idea about this class. Well, except that I went and bought the books, and... I still have no idea. I had no idea The Scarlet Letter was "sentimental." But at least I was all up in that book junior year of high school (it was the year that awful Demi Moore movie came out, so for my English project I wrote a more faithful script. Eighty pages. No kidding), so rereading it won't be a problem. And then there's something called The Wide Wide World, which looks more like what I had in mind--sentimental novel about a woman written by a woman. And then... Frederick Douglass? Okay. Silas Lapham? I don't even know what that's about, so I have no idea. And then... Uncle Tom's Cabin. AGAIN. WHY GOD WHY.
Okay, I just checked the online schedule again, and the room number has changed. I HATE that my school won't mail things out anymore. HATE HATE HATE. You know what else I hate? Being on the fourth floor instead of the second. This is partly because I'm afraid of heights and the humanities building is built like a cheap motel--all the "hallways" are outside balconies. On the second floor, you only have to worry about knocking your drink off the ledge while you're waiting for the previous class to let out. On the fourth floor, it's more of a "Please God don't let me fall to my death I'm so young okay I'm not that young but I'm still kind of young so you get what I'm AIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!" kind of thing.
Sigh. I have about a couple of hours until class; I'm going to see how much I can get done on the book until then.