Oh, To be Arrogant Again

Why in the heavens are all the book blogs I find about YA fiction? I hate YA, and have since I was ten. Or was it eight? I will not read the damn books, and I will not deign to read semi-intelligent reviews about them. What happened to fiction? Classics? Critique? The worst is that they get review copies. Review copies, free books. No charge. You're supposed to grow out of YA, and move on to serious fiction. Or did I get it all wrong?

The A-rrogant convened for the first time today. We will convene regularly, with one goal in mind: A's in Eng Lit, and possibly some other assorted courses. Today's backdrop was the first lecture in English Literature. The lecturer was a tremendous disappoinment, in everything but encouraging her students to use a thesaurus. I hope, hope, hope that she improves. But I've been through it before, and have last year's powerpoints somewhere. And have read the literature, but must re-read most. Because, I frankly don't remember shit. Oh, and I found Pinter at Akademika. So now I have no excuse, I must read Pinter. Theatre de l'absurd, oh joy.

I'm taking on the new semester. Bought a frightening stack of books, payed an absurd amount (a pair of Patrizia Pepe's, blah) for them and dragged them home. 11 books, 3 overpriced booklets. And can you believe Stephen Fry has seven iPhones? I suppose it is like my shoes.

Oh, To be Arrogant Again

Why in the heavens are all the book blogs I find about YA fiction? I hate YA, and have since I was ten. Or was it eight? I will not read the damn books, and I will not deign to read semi-intelligent reviews about them. What happened to fiction? Classics? Critique? The worst is that they get review copies. Review copies, free books. No charge. You're supposed to grow out of YA, and move on to serious fiction. Or did I get it all wrong?

The A-rrogant convened for the first time today. We will convene regularly, with one goal in mind: A's in Eng Lit, and possibly some other assorted courses. Today's backdrop was the first lecture in English Literature. The lecturer was a tremendous disappoinment, in everything but encouraging her students to use a thesaurus. I hope, hope, hope that she improves. But I've been through it before, and have last year's powerpoints somewhere. And have read the literature, but must re-read most. Because, I frankly don't remember shit. Oh, and I found Pinter at Akademika. So now I have no excuse, I must read Pinter. Theatre de l'absurd, oh joy.

I'm taking on the new semester. Bought a frightening stack of books, payed an absurd amount (a pair of Patrizia Pepe's, blah) for them and dragged them home. 11 books, 3 overpriced booklets. And can you believe Stephen Fry has seven iPhones? I suppose it is like my shoes.