Yesterday felt like a Monday, despite I was wearing my Sunday pants and I partook of the new Sunday breakfast tradition (plus added a new one of singing the song along with the bananas). However, it also didn't like I'd spent the entire day in McCabe. Which I more or less did. I went there after my computer inadvertently shut off about four times in a row (each time I have to reset the date and time, and it's just damn annoying.) The reading, which I printed out even though I usually just save the paper and read it onscreen, was more or less pleasurable: two chapters of anth-history by Kuper and an amusing critical essay by Geertz before (tired vegetable soup by Rebecca - leeks +potatoes + green things) dinner, most of a typically indecipherable chapter of Fabian (which tried to set up some sort of dichotomy between reflexion and reflection) afterwards. Alyssa asked "what does it mean that Jesus was crucified and resurrected," and I told her what it meant to me. Then Roxanne and I watched the marginally useful, occasionally funny video "Strangers Abroad 6: Strange Beliefs" about EEE-P (that's Edward Evan Evans-Pritchard, about whom we had to facilitate a discussion today) and I did a spot of practice over to Lang. Then back here in time to catch the latter half of a clever game show on wsrn (a complexified version of Botticelli that I didn't quite figure out). While "Audience of Two" played (surprisingly good, half-hour of VaCo praising notwithstanding), Brigid and I made cookies: she concentrated on her memorized (almost) molasses thins recipe, while I dealt with some Joy oatmeal-raisins. Both turned out excellent, and in substantial quantities (there's still some left even after HiCuCo had their 18-fold way with them.) Phil Garboden's talk show came on (featuring Blair and music from Elvis Costello and T-Heads - who knew?) but we traded it in for Cornelius (really sublime) to accompany 3/4 cribbage and 3x boggle (ardour, porous), devolving into more wrestling and thoughts of coexisting in a parallel universe.

Today I was up early and wrote here but the computer shut off again and it got mostly lost. I was happy during French class and had a quiet Sharples lunch with Roxanne to vaguely go over ideas before facilitation. It seemed that she was far less interested in talking about it or working out a plan than I was, and I felt that I shouldn't have to put in more work or thought than she. Then I went to the co-op and bought a half-gallon each of milk and OJ, and a bunch of grapes. When I came home, I found that (despite it being a national holiday, right?) a copy of Fabian's Time and the Other had finally arrived in the mail for me - for just slightly less than $24 list price on half. I not only spend more effort and time on that class than any other, I also spend far more money. Some people think I'm crazy, and I do too sort of, but it also makes a lot of sense. If I'm auditing the class, then the only reason to do any work is because I enjoy it. If I enjoy it then it shouldn't be a problem to spend a lot of time on it. That's the theory, and it's more or less true. In any case, part of the reason it's so much higher on that scale than other classes is that I have very little work for the others: besides tons of French and youngsterish Orno stuff, there've only been the piddling Philo readings and one Ling HW so far. For a similar reason, the thought occurred to me that I could just do a course Arth major and nothing else - my whole reason for Ling Minoring is to take the classes, and if they're going to sneak a thesis onto the minor requirements that was definitely not there before (which is the indication I got from the minor form I'm supposed to fill out), then why should I bother - unless of course I decide I really want to write it. It's not a problem of not wanting to do more work in either Ling or Art History, it's the matter of how many classes I'd be able to take outside of fulfillment requirements. (See my list in the November archive.)

I'm an old testament type of guy
I like my coffee black
and my parole denied