Racing against time. Ready to hit the sack. Early by my standards -- yes. YES. Friends from London crashed at my place tonight. The snoring works like a charm -- inspired me to write a bit on dreaded Carver paper. A miraculous piece of news it is: writing, which, for me, comes in spurts of 2 hours, always in the dead of night, until the gas runs out and screen-staring begins.
I was unmotivated to write this paper that in a moment of panic -- last night at this hour, out of sheer desperation, surely -- I emailed a couple of professors (from another class) , and kindly asked for additional sources that might be promising. Both responded this morning, with names of critics. Such glee, on my end. I make an appointment with Psych prof and imagine conversing about Kaja Silverman and Godard. He -- talking endlesly, excitedly. Me -- asking, "will you be my friend" -- or just be on my commitee?
Once, I told Psych prof that I wanted to title a paper "Hit me Baby, one more time: . . ." for the Angela Carter paper. Ha ha. silly, silly student, he must've thought.
Tonight I was tempted to title the Carver paper on voyeurism: "Shhh. All is quiet: . . . in Will You Please Be Quiet, Please " (you know, by Bjork?). Ugh. Gee whiz. Titles -- takes up lots of brain energy . "Rear Window" -- now there's a voyueristic film.
karplunk.
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