nirinia: (Default)
My friends are somewhere out there in the sun and the new leaves, partying. I am inside, reading law and drinking wine. And this will be my life until the 8th of June. After that I work through the summer, but that can't be too terrible. The most exciting thing I've done all day is make pizza, or, perhaps, talk to Marion who is more stressed than I am about the exam.

But I did find the Celine shoes of my dreams on sale. I saw them, held them and walked out of the shop. Ten metres down the road I had to run back and buy them. They have ankle straps, and there was only one pair left in 38.5, I couldn't leave them there. What if someone else had bought them before I could?
nirinia: (Default)
Two more exams – I failed the first one in New York –, then I see Up, drink wine and write. And I will read LJ, O'Brian and Mrs Dalloway again. Two days, done in 24 hours. I have to buy ink for my pens and take tea, to keep my fingers from going white and useless.
nirinia: (Default)
Two more exams – I failed the first one in New York –, then I see Up, drink wine and write. And I will read LJ, O'Brian and Mrs Dalloway again. Two days, done in 24 hours. I have to buy ink for my pens and take tea, to keep my fingers from going white and useless.
nirinia: (Default)
I bought books I don't need, again. It was a reward for surviving today's two exams.
I got Nadine Gordimer's Beethoven Was One-Sixteenth Black, DeLillo's White Noise and Auster's Timbuktu. They'll be interesting reads by the looks of them, though Auster's is, according to Amazon, slightly flawed.

Survived english literature and varieties of english texts exams. I managed to omit metre (how could I not mention iambic pentameter?), but did surprisingly ok on the varieties one. Oh, well.
nirinia: (Default)
I bought books I don't need, again. It was a reward for surviving today's two exams.
I got Nadine Gordimer's Beethoven Was One-Sixteenth Black, DeLillo's White Noise and Auster's Timbuktu. They'll be interesting reads by the looks of them, though Auster's is, according to Amazon, slightly flawed.

Survived english literature and varieties of english texts exams. I managed to omit metre (how could I not mention iambic pentameter?), but did surprisingly ok on the varieties one. Oh, well.
nirinia: (Default)
"You haven't picked up your obligatory assignment. One thing you should
note from that is that you tend to produce a lot of sentences which
aren't really complete sentences (with subjects and verbs at the very
least). In English as in Norwegian complete sentences are expected
between two full stops. Otherwise it's better to put a comma, or
sometimes a colon."

Direct copypaste from a mail from the Varieties of English Texts lecturer. My fragments are coming back to haunt me. I can't help it, I love fragments. I cannot do without them in writing. And he obviously thinks I'm an imbecile, lecturing me not only on complete sentences, but commas and colons! Colons, commas; this coming from the man that speaks with the glorious accent of 'wtf, is it supposed to resemble RP?' Gods, he thinks I'm daft. I need to drag myself by the scruff of the neck, kicking and screaming, into the land of complete sentences. At least when I write essays.

Part of the problem is that I read authors that favour the same style. Bolano is horrid: he ignores all rules of conventional grammar for the sake of it; his sentences are known to span pages. Then there's Woolf, and Joyce. And Stein (Tender Buttons, in particular), T.S. Elliot, Coetzee (fragments are less frequent with him, but he does not conform to academic essay standard). Even Lessing does it. I'm not made for academic writing.

Maybe I should write a post-postmodern manifesto? There is no such thing as complete sentences, there can never be too many commas. Or semicolons. Free indirect style is the only way to narrate anything.

But I tricked him into letting me sit the exam. Who cares about obligatory attendance? All I did was write a mail with my 'teacher's pet, I'm so sorry'-persona, and all was well.
nirinia: (Default)
"You haven't picked up your obligatory assignment. One thing you should
note from that is that you tend to produce a lot of sentences which
aren't really complete sentences (with subjects and verbs at the very
least). In English as in Norwegian complete sentences are expected
between two full stops. Otherwise it's better to put a comma, or
sometimes a colon."

Direct copypaste from a mail from the Varieties of English Texts lecturer. My fragments are coming back to haunt me. I can't help it, I love fragments. I cannot do without them in writing. And he obviously thinks I'm an imbecile, lecturing me not only on complete sentences, but commas and colons! Colons, commas; this coming from the man that speaks with the glorious accent of 'wtf, is it supposed to resemble RP?' Gods, he thinks I'm daft. I need to drag myself by the scruff of the neck, kicking and screaming, into the land of complete sentences. At least when I write essays.

Part of the problem is that I read authors that favour the same style. Bolano is horrid: he ignores all rules of conventional grammar for the sake of it; his sentences are known to span pages. Then there's Woolf, and Joyce. And Stein (Tender Buttons, in particular), T.S. Elliot, Coetzee (fragments are less frequent with him, but he does not conform to academic essay standard). Even Lessing does it. I'm not made for academic writing.

Maybe I should write a post-postmodern manifesto? There is no such thing as complete sentences, there can never be too many commas. Or semicolons. Free indirect style is the only way to narrate anything.

But I tricked him into letting me sit the exam. Who cares about obligatory attendance? All I did was write a mail with my 'teacher's pet, I'm so sorry'-persona, and all was well.
nirinia: (Default)
You know you're a lit student when you take a break from reading linguistics, only to listen to T.S. Eliot reading "Prufrock" (if you're that way inclined, the reading is found here). And proceed to squeel delightedly when you discover a piece of very structured literature you can critique on DA. It's called The Fractal Man, by Bulknowt on DA. It's short and intriguing, and reminds me a bit of Emerson, in that it is poetry in prose - though less nonsensical than some of Emerson's ramblings.

At times like these I revert to classical music, Bach in particular. He doesn't demand that I listen to him, like vocals do. And his cello suites are magnificent. Which reminds me of a blog I discovered the other day. I confess, I am a million internet-years behind, but when I do find things I enjoy them thoroughly (procrastination works so much better when there's something online to employ!). Stuff White People Like makes me simultaneously want to aquire pigmentation and be proud that I at least have some irony. Out of the list of some hundred posts, I am sure 98 apply to me. White, who, me?

And Time wrote very favourably of Roberto Bolano in one of the latest issues. So I think I might have to find something by him when I'm done with this exam nonsense.
nirinia: (Default)
You know you're a lit student when you take a break from reading linguistics, only to listen to T.S. Eliot reading "Prufrock" (if you're that way inclined, the reading is found here). And proceed to squeel delightedly when you discover a piece of very structured literature you can critique on DA. It's called The Fractal Man, by Bulknowt on DA. It's short and intriguing, and reminds me a bit of Emerson, in that it is poetry in prose - though less nonsensical than some of Emerson's ramblings.

At times like these I revert to classical music, Bach in particular. He doesn't demand that I listen to him, like vocals do. And his cello suites are magnificent. Which reminds me of a blog I discovered the other day. I confess, I am a million internet-years behind, but when I do find things I enjoy them thoroughly (procrastination works so much better when there's something online to employ!). Stuff White People Like makes me simultaneously want to aquire pigmentation and be proud that I at least have some irony. Out of the list of some hundred posts, I am sure 98 apply to me. White, who, me?

And Time wrote very favourably of Roberto Bolano in one of the latest issues. So I think I might have to find something by him when I'm done with this exam nonsense.
nirinia: (Default)
Somehow, sipping scorchingly hot chocolate, getting my hands sooty from stoking the fire and reading anything but coursematerial, is a lot more tempting than revision-deathmarch. (Yes, you could leave the last comma out, but I will not get rid of them; I maintain that they are a stylistic matter, and my commas are staying. I want you to pause there. What playwright was it that instructed the actors not to leave out his commas like that?)

The revision-deathmarch must go on, in spite of temptation. I deserved doing unrelated things after taking the dog for a three-hour walk, anyway. Faulkner, Williams, Salinger, Plath, Bishop, Morrison, Erdich and Hwang left.

Oh, we're playing christmas songs for the first time this year. I love this time of year. How can anyone be depressed by the lack of light?
nirinia: (Default)
Somehow, sipping scorchingly hot chocolate, getting my hands sooty from stoking the fire and reading anything but coursematerial, is a lot more tempting than revision-deathmarch. (Yes, you could leave the last comma out, but I will not get rid of them; I maintain that they are a stylistic matter, and my commas are staying. I want you to pause there. What playwright was it that instructed the actors not to leave out his commas like that?)

The revision-deathmarch must go on, in spite of temptation. I deserved doing unrelated things after taking the dog for a three-hour walk, anyway. Faulkner, Williams, Salinger, Plath, Bishop, Morrison, Erdich and Hwang left.

Oh, we're playing christmas songs for the first time this year. I love this time of year. How can anyone be depressed by the lack of light?
nirinia: (Default)
Whitman is about the only thing I am sure I have down: there can be no counter-arguments I cannot beat down, no symbols I have not discovered, no nook or cranny of his song I have not seen. So, if all else fails, Monday the frist of December, I will do Withman. (Provided that he can somehow be included in an answer to an actual task.) I did better with Shakespeare than I do with the harlem renaissance, oh, the irony!

Any infallible exam-tips, other than diving into stacks of critique?
nirinia: (Default)
Whitman is about the only thing I am sure I have down: there can be no counter-arguments I cannot beat down, no symbols I have not discovered, no nook or cranny of his song I have not seen. So, if all else fails, Monday the frist of December, I will do Withman. (Provided that he can somehow be included in an answer to an actual task.) I did better with Shakespeare than I do with the harlem renaissance, oh, the irony!

Any infallible exam-tips, other than diving into stacks of critique?
nirinia: (Default)
Revision, revision, revision. For two, no, three weeks on end. Am. Lit. this week, Grammar next week, and then more grammar and linguistics after that. Oh, the joys of exams. That I brought this upon myself doesn't help much. If, at the ends of these three weeks, anyone asks me to perform a syntactic analysis I will claw at eyes, scream in staccato and generally make an unforgettable mess.

I'm reading Nygårdshaug, an insane Norwegian. It was a birthday present from Katrine. A postmodernist and her favourite author, fittingly enough. Today I'm going to bed early to enjoy a chapter or two more. And now I go back to Hawthorne and interpretations of his Black Veil, the fun!
nirinia: (Default)
Revision, revision, revision. For two, no, three weeks on end. Am. Lit. this week, Grammar next week, and then more grammar and linguistics after that. Oh, the joys of exams. That I brought this upon myself doesn't help much. If, at the ends of these three weeks, anyone asks me to perform a syntactic analysis I will claw at eyes, scream in staccato and generally make an unforgettable mess.

I'm reading Nygårdshaug, an insane Norwegian. It was a birthday present from Katrine. A postmodernist and her favourite author, fittingly enough. Today I'm going to bed early to enjoy a chapter or two more. And now I go back to Hawthorne and interpretations of his Black Veil, the fun!
nirinia: (Default)
Kristine needed a new eyebrow pencil, and so we ventured into our favourite Esthetique, at Paléet ("House of Beauty", they call it, hah). We haven't been there together since before Christmas, on our search for presents, and one of the attendants remembered us: "Oh, I remember you two! I did your make-up once, both of you." And she went on like we were old friends. My dentist recognizes me, my hair-stylist, and now an attendant at Esthetique. She's very sweet and gracious, but, good grief, she recognized us. I don't think I've encountered her since that time before Christmas. Perhaps a hint that I buy too much cosmetics?

And I think I need to buy myself a graduation present. Feeding the Guerlain obsession with their new "METEORITES Perles, Light-Diffusing Perfecting Primer" and a coral lip-gloss seems a very good idea. The primer is deliciously decadent, and gives the skin a wonderful glow. Not as decadent as the one with 24 carat gold specks, but who says I cannot have both?

I survived the English exam, I think. I wrote a horrendous interpretation of Tennyson's Ulysses, and forgot what his best friend's name was (allegedly referred to in the poem, as Achilles). There is at least one quote I forgot to reference *headdesk*
nirinia: (Default)
Kristine needed a new eyebrow pencil, and so we ventured into our favourite Esthetique, at Paléet ("House of Beauty", they call it, hah). We haven't been there together since before Christmas, on our search for presents, and one of the attendants remembered us: "Oh, I remember you two! I did your make-up once, both of you." And she went on like we were old friends. My dentist recognizes me, my hair-stylist, and now an attendant at Esthetique. She's very sweet and gracious, but, good grief, she recognized us. I don't think I've encountered her since that time before Christmas. Perhaps a hint that I buy too much cosmetics?

And I think I need to buy myself a graduation present. Feeding the Guerlain obsession with their new "METEORITES Perles, Light-Diffusing Perfecting Primer" and a coral lip-gloss seems a very good idea. The primer is deliciously decadent, and gives the skin a wonderful glow. Not as decadent as the one with 24 carat gold specks, but who says I cannot have both?

I survived the English exam, I think. I wrote a horrendous interpretation of Tennyson's Ulysses, and forgot what his best friend's name was (allegedly referred to in the poem, as Achilles). There is at least one quote I forgot to reference *headdesk*
nirinia: (Default)
When I'm done with these blasted exams, I am going to take a plunge into Cornwell's Scarpetta novels. I need undemanding reading, immense quantities of it.
nirinia: (Default)
When I'm done with these blasted exams, I am going to take a plunge into Cornwell's Scarpetta novels. I need undemanding reading, immense quantities of it.

October 2012

S M T W T F S
 123456
789 10111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
28293031   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 28th, 2017 10:53 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios