moving on

Ein paar Texte für die Fahrt, ein Regenschirm, Wasser und geschmierte Brote sind gepackt. Erst arbeiten, dann essen, dann los. Wenn's groß genug wird, hören wir bald in den Nachrichten von einander.

Oh my. Thursday will be my happy day this semester. I start at 8am and won't leave until 6pm, but it doesn't really matter, because I have two adjacent classes with G. Adjacent. I think I might be hyperventilating... oh... oh...

Phew.

Anyways, the first is a lecture on 21^st century American culture - including sessions about racial issues, the terror attacks on the WTC, the wars in the Middle East, Abu Ghraib and Guantánamo prison, the presidental elections in 2008, the financial crisis, and finally the Twilight - wait for it... - Saga. I can provide our reading list if you're interested.

The second class is a seminar on the phenomenon of Barack Obama in which the first two books we will read are his autobiographies Dreams from of my Father and The Audacity of Hope. Apart from the person, what he stands for and my interest in him, I'm thrilled to have some more practice in reading autobiographies, because I need it badly. I don't know how other people do it, reading autobiographies that is, and don't get crazy. It made me mad, furious even last semester. In parts, I blame it on the autobiography in question (Brother and Keepers by John Wideman), in parts also on the genre. Without a proper balance of knowing what is fact and what is fiction, i.e. the author showing that he is aware of the problem, I get uncomfortable.

For me, that borders on "unintended" unreliable narration, the kind which makes one look up from a book of fiction and think, "Wait a second... Did the protagonist just try to convince me that it is okay to hurt animals/beat children/kill innocent people? Seriously? Dear author, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" In my opinion, that happens when the author's questionable psychological condition shows too much in his story and makes the reader uncomfortable because of its degree of, well, let's be euphemistic and call it 'weirdness' in the best cases. No, I'm not saying just because some characters in a book are 'weird', that the author is as well, but there's a line and I've seen it crossed a couple of times. One example would be parts of the Twilight Saga, during which I've actually wondered what Stephenie Meyer thought about the topic of sexual consent, and I got very, very mad at her.

So, while this uncomfortable feeling can be pushed further away in fiction if necessary, I find it more difficult to deal with when reading an autobiography - because there's not much of an illusion of a fictional character weakening the experience of such weirdness. However, Obama is doing a great job in Dreams from my Father so far and I'm glad for that.


Two classes down, two more to go.

I also have a lecture in linguistics which is called "Tranlation and Transfer Studies". It is taught by a new professor here who is a trained translator and translation professor. While it is clear that as students of English literature and culture, we're definitely not supposed to be trained in translation the way she is, but I think as a linguistic professor here, she offers a great perspective on language philosophy and cultural differences. I enjoyed the first session a lot!

Now, the seminar on Queer Studies. I'm confused, to say the least, but I think that was the intention. The nature of the subject itself seems to object to a clear definition and that's why I won't try to write anything about it until I've gotten my hands on the seminar reader this afternoon and read a couple of texts. I can say already that it's very intriguing though. Looooots of meta theory to read and I'm not sure about how much I can take of that, but we'll see.


I small voice in the back of my head insists that I got myself way too much workload for this semester, considering that I don't exactly need four of my eleven classes, but pleeeaaase? It's my last semester before the exams in fall and the final thesis afterwards and I... I.... I need it. I need the distraction, at least for now.

Today was rather lazy. I got into my Translation III class all right and the teacher is very nice; my other class on Tuesdays has yet to start next week. Afterwards, I ran into a fellow student and hiwi from the literature department and I got to know that I got the seminar on Queer Studies on Friday as well! Apparently, only a few people signed up for it so I got a place without aspirations to any kind of credit. Yay! Finally, I got a very sweet email from my professor. I'm happy. ♥


(Don't ask about work.)

On the one hand, I'm dead.
On the other, this comic strip.

:D

Conclusion, I GOT YOU.

And a nice one at that. I think. Yeah. Unfortunately, that I got the conclusion done was about the only major point I was able to check off of my to-do list. This last, sweet chapter turned out longer than I expected and needed more time as well. So, while I have at least outlined the introduction now, I haven't written it yet, and I foresee another one and a half pages, i.e. one and a half, maybe two hours? Not good. I will try to finish it tomorrow morning to have as much time as possible for the creative thingy afterwards. For that one, I also have an outline already which is awesome, but... Not going according to my plans. Bad, baaaaad... Well, I guess the important thing will be to just get things done tomorrow. The next two days will be very stressful, but the more I'll get done tomorrow, the lesser I will have to worry about on Wednesday, one day before the deadline when the stress level will rise exponentially anyways.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, okay?


Apart from the marathon writing and thinking, today has been very exhausting in some other ways, too. They weight kind of heavy on me, but I don't want to give them much thought just yet. Doesn't make it much easier, though.

Roughly five more pages written DOWN.

Now, the only problem is that I don't have that much faith in my argument anymore. Today, I started the second chapter of my term paper which is about content and its effect on the reader. And while I had a lot of secondary literature on structure for the first chapter, I felt like I was trying to catch smoke with my bare hands today. Huh. Is that an idiom? Or just something fancy I read somewhere? Whatever. It feels like I don't have any proof for my argument, maybe I lost my point somewhere along the way, too, and my brains anyways. And I need to write at least two if not three more pages on content tomorrow to make this whole paper work. Meh. I feel stupid and pathetic and... just tired I guess.

Bed now, see you tomorrow.

Day 4 didn't happen unfortunately. I had a colonoscopy today and was pretty much occupied the whole day preparing for it. To still make the deadline on Thursday, I'm thinking about writing two pages less which would mean one page today, and four more one Saturday and Sunday each. Crazy. I'm fast, but that fast? I don't know...

God, I don't want to ask for more time, I don't want to. I would get it, oh, I would (I have it on paper that I had been sick for a week after all), but I seriously don't want to postpone this any further - I want some Easter holidays! On Easter Monday, a workshop starts at work which I will have to attend and which will last all week if I'm informed correctly. I want at least the Easter weekend to pretent that I had some kind of holidays since the semester ended mid-February...


As for the examination, it went fine, I'm well, and apparently, my bowels are fine as well. Proof that my life makes me sick without leaving behind any traces. I knew it. Cunning, little bastard!


Ah. If you liked the Star Trek Amanda/Sarek story I recommended here, read this brilliant little piece which is titled "What Women Want" by igrockspock and learn about the purpose of tacky, red dresses.

Three pages down and not too bad either! They're not perfect, of course (oh vocabulary, where art thou?), but I think I've got my mind on the task and my argument works. Kinda. Eh. Anyways, have a look! 

( What my academic writing looks like. (~ 240 words) )


Furthermore, it feels like I'm finally doing something really worth my while again where my studies are concerned. But... When did I develop this much of a political consciousness? I like it, hell, I'm proud of it! But to me, it kind of emerged out of nowhere. I've never considered myself much of anything, a romantic or, haha, an outsider if anything at all. Now, I'm getting more and more politically conscious, becoming a humanist, and a feminist to top it all... That's me, that's me evolving, but... All the people you can set off with "having opinions" on your own. Maybe I want that, a tiny little bit, because I enjoy a good discussion a lot. But I've been an outsider, a loner for such a long time that I see myself struggling hard between keeping my mouth shut to please and to belong, and speaking my mind, doing, if there is, the right thing.

Anybody else thinking about politics lately? What do you think goes wrong these days?

I have a very strong opinion on the death penalty and Guantanamo prison because of the obvious reason which is my term paper. If you want to know more about it, ask away. (I've refrained from rambling too much here on the content so far, because I didn't want to bore you unnecessarily. But if you'd want to know, I'd be happy to tell.)

I think I did good work today. I reread The Exonerated, worked a bit on its structure, compared it to Guantanamo, and found a couple of more things in which these plays differ greatly. I think I know now why they had, on the one hand, a similar, and on the other, a totally different impact on me. Moreover, I think I might name this yet unwritten paper something along the lines of The Political Potential of Plays on Injustice: What They Can Do and What They Cannot. I'd like that. And it fits the idea for my little creative project lateron, too.


I'd like to quote a character from The Exonerated because I want to share the beauty of what I work on. Her name is Sunny and during the 16 years she was on death row being innocent, her parents died, her husband was executed (he was innocent, too), and she couldn't watch her children grow up... On the last page of the play, having been released from prison ten years ago, she says,


Each one of the six stories in The Exonerated is painful, but all of the characters come out of theirs still human, still feeling. Words can't express how much I admire these people's strength.

Just to more pages to go! Two small topics I need to cover and the conclusion. I'm so going to be FINISHED with this tomorrow. Hell, this paper is no masterpiece, but I've never intended it to be one anyways... Just another linguistic paper down. And just one more lecture next semester... Finally. ♥

And next week, next paper. LITERATURE PAPER. ♥♥♥
(More on that soon. I'm so excited!)

To continue the tale of my culinary adventures, I got everything for my onigiri session this weekend, except for pickled plums - which is sad but not so much, because I have tuna, eggs, and lots of other tasty stuff. Yum!

Now, I'm going to keep myself occupied for another 15 minutes and then put myself into bed with a book. These days, I've been no good at falling asleep before 1am, but now, my body demands some more sleep...