While talking to the Sophisticate last Friday I laughed at her hypoglycemia — it was just the way she described it, really: a condition that forced her to eat every three hours — essentially using up in a few seconds whatever brownie points I earned all last semester in Writing Biography.

Though she didn't seem offended. Maybe saying inappropriate things at class functions can be my amusing foible.

As far as the weekend goes, somehow I cancelled my plans for two or three different events on the grounds that I'd rather attend one of the others... and ended up doing nothing at all. One of those events was a visit to Lawrence with Jinx and Rock Show Girl.

Amelia II tells me that my name came up re: our long-promised drinking contest, but I wasn't there to show her what a real lightweight can do.

And Ben messaged me Saturday night to tell me that he and Freshman Matt were "watching the worst sci fi movie ever and taking shots every time someone dies."

It was torture.

Life has been fairly ridiculous lately, though not in a way that lends itself naturally to a longer narrative.

"Teaching in the Community College" promises quite a bit of farce — so far much of the class has been people who've never taught guessing at the best ways to handle teaching situations while the professor indulges us.

(Quite a few times both here and at Lawrence, I've been corrected for calling certain teachers "professor" when they lack that official title, but I'm willing to defend this usage now that I'm not copy-editing and have the luxury of being more descriptivist.)

Many of the same Maphiosi are in my other two classes. My favorite class, "Narratives of Suspense" or "and Suspense" or whatever it's called, has a British professor, who of course probably sounds 25% smarter than he actually is. Though I'm still amused by his use of a soft-s in "assuring," because I'm immature.

In "Theories of Media," where we read critical works but apply them mostly to films (tomorrow's feature: Videodrome), I had the strange experience of reading and agreeing with one critic only to come to class and realize said critic (Raymond Williams) had been cast in the role of whipping boy and I was supposed to agree with our hero, the guy I hadn't read yet.

This class also boasts quite a few stilted commentators, students who intentionally frame their in-class responses in an awkwardly formal way in order (I assume) to appear more educated. Usually it works, but not when the girl a few seats from me can drop a word like "proleptically" and sound natural, you edu-posers.

(Minor tech update: I've fixed the garbled archive problem, they should all be readable now.)