My second Sunday back at work is rather similar to the first--but with more patrons. I had to do ILL shit this morning (I even came in a half-hour early to concentrate on it before opening) and it was a shitload of headaches from start to finish. 40 requests! I got them all searched and was ready to print them out and the printer was off the network, so I saved them to disc and took them upstairs to see if I could print them there and no go so I came back downstairs and the printer was spitting out gibberish and then it printed 10 copies of everything I needed.
No big deal--I still got a bunch of receiving tidied up and sent off some articles via Ariel and via fax, and got much of my Monday work done on Sunday in about 2 hours. Then I spent 3 hours at the desk reading The Turn of the Screw in between patrons. Again, I'm like--"Why did I assign this? I know the students are going to hate it." Perhaps that's exactly why I assigned it. At any rate, I think I've got a revolutionary take on the story, one I've not encountered in the criticism, and it's based on my readings of other James stories like "The Figure in the Carpet" and "Greville Fane" and his totally bizarre novel
What's going on in "The Turn of the Screw" is a Hamlet play-within-a-play device mirroring authorial consciousness. I'll leave it at that for now. If I ever get the foolish and costly idea to go back to school for a PhD, perhaps I'll write this down.
Yesterday was Yahtzee's semi-annual Poker Night, and for the first time I didn't go. Cha and I were supposed to go to OC for one of her teacher conferences this weekend, but the conference got cancelled. She worked at Hamden Fest with Damnyelli all day yesterday while I read at home. I was in a sort of existential funk all day, and didn't go to Poker Night because I felt not simply unsocial but anti-social last night. I'm turning into a recluse. The Hulk called me Friday and left a series of desperate messages on the answering machine. I called him Saturday morn and we talked for an hour; his girlfriend dumped him. Then he called back three more times Saturday, but I screened the calls and didn't pick up. One message was about giving up alcohol, another was about our Halloween party, and another was him telling me he was bringing over all his alcohol to drop off at my place FOR our Halloween party. He showed up around 5:30 when I was taking a nap and dumped a couple bottles of tequila, a huge jug of Maker's Mark, some awful Schnapps, and several canned pisswater beverages on the deck. Perhaps he's feeling guilt for all the times he's stiffed me on tabs?
Or, maybe he's trying to get his shit together and I'm simply being a prick.
Cha got home around 8:30, just as I was thinking of heading out to Poker Night, but I decided we should have some *ahem* quality time before her Friends from Cleveland join us. After, we watched a couple episodes of Season 3 of Sex and the City.
As for the anti-social feelings, I can't explain them. Friday we met Klezma and Kwa'ali and Pierrot Lunaire for dinner and I was exceptionally gregarious (and filthy-mouthed too). I was a double-entendre-in' like mad. We ate at Kawasaki and it was better than usual, tho my expectations are typically so low when I go there that it might have only been OK. The sake was nice and warm and I had a big ass Sapporo to boot. Pierrot is now dating a guy, but claims he's not gay, he's just too abashed to tell this nice guy who asked him out that he's straight. I suppose he'll wait until some comfy post-coital moment to be honest and straightforward. Freak.
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