Friday, December 7, 2001

i do not heart dimino

no more faulkner class. thank fucking god. i am now offically done with attending classes. don't mistake that, however, for me being done with my work. i still have three papers that i have to write. i have still not even started to pack. i have still have not talked to the landlord about switching my lease. i have still not registered for next semester. but, i do still plan on leaving bright and early sunday morning to drive to virginia.

let me tell you how happy i am that i do not have to attend that faulkner class anymore. no longer will i have to sit there, awkwardly wait in silence with the rest of my class for dimino to decide to grace us with her lazy ass presence. twice she has shown up 15 minutes late, and on one time she did not show up at all. i took so much pleasure in writing that evaluation for her today, i just totally let loose. but while we were writing the evaluations she sat in there. i don't think that you are allowed to, and even if so it does not seem like a very courteous or ethical thing to do.

no longer will i have to listen to her take up entire classes with her slightly racist musings in which she makes overly broad, gross generalizations about black culture and blackness. oh, i get so frustrated with her in the class, and seriously have dreams of wildly kicking her in the shins whenever she starts talking about "blacks" and "their" culture. she is so fucking patronizing and she doesn't even realize it. she like so many other professors and students at this school think that they are being progressive in their sympathatic descriptions of "blacks." mohanty said, "they must not be represented, they must represent themselves."

ahh, one of the many reasons i hate this school. and, i am always so timid about questioning dimino on her categorical descriptions of "black culture." occasionally, i will be so annoyed that i will feebly respond, but my lack of verbosity coupled with my propensity to say "like," "um," and "yeah," always manages to make me sound really lame.

today she was talking about latin american lit. and af-am lit. as postcolonial lit., and not that i even totally disagreed with her (in fact, i sort of agreed with her), but she talked about it as if was the general consensus amongst postcolonial scholars, which it most definitely is not, and so i just wanted to point that out and ask her if her statements would not be contested and rejected by most postcolonial scholars. or, more accurately that is what i meant to ask. i don't even know what ended up coming out of my mouth, all i know is that i got this very look from alena and dimino. i tried explaining my thoughts, which produced from dimino a question something like, why don't you take a minute to actually think of a decent argument? and then i saw brian hughes cover his mouth and make a stunned laugh which was super cute, but made me realize how incomprehesible i must have sounded to everyone except myself.

i know everyone has this problem, but i really do think my case of it is more acute, wherein i think i'm making perfect sense and it all seems right before i open my mouth, and then i mutter some words, which are in english, but yet still produce a what the hell are you talking about look from people. this happens far more frequently than i would wish for it too.

but, anyways no more dimino at least until next fall, which will be so nice. however, i really did enjoy going to faulkner just because i would get to talk to drew geer, who by the way i am becoming less and less obsessed with (the crush, like eventually all of mine do, is starting to fade), and i get to stare at brian hughes, who i am thinking is cuter and cuter with each sighting of him.

and i only have two more nights here now, two more chances to make out with marky mark. maybe he'll be at the wall and i can strike out yet again.

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