why do you ask me questions but not listen to me? 9:33 p.m. & 07 November 2002
A good couple days, it's been. The English social last night ended up being a lot of fun. Generally speaking, I don't bring poetry to read at these things, and then I always end up regretting not having brought poetry to read at these things. So, in anticipation of such, I decided to go through my computer poetry collection, but I've once again decided that I hate absolutely everything I've ever written. So I went sans poetry and of course, regretted that very much once I got there.
The profs were really fun; very interesting to get to know on a social level. One (my 20th century prof) brought her darling daughter, aged about one for an hour or so; another talked about the trials of living with a character like Benjamin; one told us tales of his life in Israel picking zucchini on a commune; others still congratulated me on the success (thus far) of Magma.
I was also given $40 towards the publication of Magma, which means that with $60 total we are probably not going to have to pay for this issue. I was also given strict orders to slam the English department if I felt it necessary; as none of the donors wanted us to feel as though their money meant we owed them anything.
I had a tour at work today, and one of the people I was showing around was an old friend of the Squidge's who I hadn't seen in about seven years.
The History Club showed 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail' tonight. It went well--we had three other people show up. I love that movie.