The beginning of the end...
Midterms are coming up next week.
I'm mostly concerned with the midterm I'll have to take for my film authorship class on Alfred Hitchcock. I actually just got out of that class about a half hour ago, the professor leaving us with the thought that the midterm was going to be "harder than we expect."
Now I don't know how easy he thinks I expect this midterm to be, but I can darn well assure him that I had been bracing myself for a pretty tough exam. This foreboding closing note to Prof. Olsson's lecture has now nearly convinced me completely that I'll be shitting myself as I sit to take the exam one week from now. What really makes me nervous about this class in general is the fact that the professor had originally planned the course solely for graduate students, and now I'm afraid he's going to hold us to those standards. Crafty Europeans.
But enough about the future. This past weekend was pretty nice. I somehow managed to do quite a lot without feeling very busy for the past few days. Friday night I went to go see a play with Anna and Aaron, How to Wake Up. It's a student-written musical put on by one of the theater groups here on campus. Needless to say, there were times when this fact seemed rather obvious. The music in it was actually ok, and the performances were good (especially my friend lauren - what a sassy bitch!), but the play just seemed to drag on, particularly the first act, which ran upwards of an hour and a half. But this of course was trumped by the fact that the lovely Sarah M. was there and oh-so cute. And of course this gave me a conversation starter just in case I saw her Saturday night at...
The New Pornographers concert. It was ok, I only recognized one of their songs, and everybody in the crowd was kind of just standing there sporadically bobbing their heads or swaying(keep in mind i was most definitely one of these people). Maybe things picked up for My Morning Jacket's set, but Anna and I didn't stick around to find out.
And as it turned out, Sarah was there at the concert, crewing in some way, and I ended up having about a 30 second conversation with her(by far the longest), and we talked about the play the night before and what she thought. As we talked, I got the distinct feeling that there were no feelings there, and even if there ever were, they had long gone, leaving not the sparkling conversation I had hoped for, but rather the dull dribble I should have grown to expect. It's time to move on.
But I've said that before.
Final thought: I'll do another post tomorrow with the story of my zombification.