Up at 8:30, or what I'd define as an ungodly hour. Yesterday I asked for a one-day extension on my paper. I finished my arguments for Donnie Darko and wrote 13 annotations. I'm starting to think I might pull this off.

A friend of mine on Facebook posted a great note about words and phrases us grad students are relieved to no longer have to use now that classes are coming to an end. Here's my list:

- Epistemology
- Ethnocentric/graphic
- Hermeneutics
- Interesting
- Neologism
- Ontological
- Pragmatic
- Sociocultural

I know "interesting" may seem out of place on that list, but it's been a long year of people overusing that word, myself included. I can't count the number of sentences I've heard prefaced with "It's interesting that..." Saying something is interesting only goes to show that there's something you want to say about a subject but are too unfocused to actually say it. Those sentences usually end with a loss in train of thought, or the words, "Sorry, I'm rambling." Again, I'm as guilty as anyone else in perpetuating its use.

The Touch of Evil screening at Innis Town Hall was fun. Brought back some memories of last semester. Is it possible to have nostalgia for something that happened four or five months ago? Anyway, it was good to see Dru one last time before we both shoved off. It's interesting that the commentary he recorded for the film was the impetus for the reunion, yet he showed up midway through the screening because he was playing along with a Dark Knight public viral marketing campaign that let him see the new trailer. Sorry, I'm rambling.

I'm 3263/5000 words into the essay, which is fine - that's really only a couple more hours of writing. I still haven't started the bibliography. I have to put more of a focus on that today and churn it out. Throwing another kink into the plan is a screening of Touch of Evil that I should attend tonight, because people from the class are getting together. I might be able to do it.

I watched and wrote on Donnie Darko last night, and I could have written the entire paper on that film alone. I've seen it many times before, but I've never done a close reading of it. It's do damned intricately woven by parts that seem unrelated to one another but actually help explain how and why things are happening.

Okay. Transit's running again, so I'm off.

I wrote just over 1500 words of the paper last night, but I wasn't able to crack the bibliography. I split the arguments up between Beloved and Waiting for Godot. Hopefully I'll have both sections finished by the end of the day. That seems unlikely, however, since I'm in need of secondary sources at the library and still can't get to campus. Apparently the strike is set to end by the end of the day, so at least I'll have Monday and most of Tuesday.

That's it, really. Back to work.

The TTC union went on strike at midnight last night out of nowhere, and transit isn't expected to start running again until Monday at the earliest, so that kind of fucks up my plans of heading to campus this weekend. Had to happen the last weekend I'm in town, and while I'm working on the last essay I have to write. The next three days are going to be intense. 5000 words and a 40 item annotated bibliography.

Today's goal: 1500 words on Beloved. 10 items annotated.

Oi.

Buck 65 was his usual rad self. Cadence Weapon and Skratch Bastid were both good too. I met up with Ren and his lady friend Rachel and we had dinner before the show. The Danforth Music Hall is a strange venue. It's really not designed for a show like that. Not enough standing room. But we were up front anyhow.

I had lunch with Amanda yesterday. The goodbyes have started. Looking forward to some hellos.

Up early today and ready to work. I have a lot of it to do over the next week, so I need to take advantage of the time that I have, especially since I'm seeing the Eels play on Friday night. My film reading is done and I'm downloading Far From Heaven.

Classes were fine yesterday. I really enjoy Tragedy once the discussion gets going. Quayson's an excellent prof. I can tell he's an excellent prof because I respect him even though my marks aren't as high as they could be. THAT'S the sign of being taught by someone worthwhile. And being taught, actually sat down and instructed, at this level, is rarer a thing than I had hoped for at this level. Learning from someone else is what keeps me interested in school.

I had a long lunch with Amanda after Avant-Garde. She's a great person to talk with. In Biography there were two pigeons sitting on the windowsill of the room throughout the entire class, trying to avoid the wind. I walked home from Keele Station, watched the Daily Show, talked with Andrea for a bit (whom I'm still in love with a year after I first said it out loud) and got to bed at a reasonable hour.

April is here. Finally. March felt shorter than February, so at least things are picking up speed.

Coupland sent me his home address, and I'm officially meeting with him on Sunday the 13th. From now until then I'm going to have to put some worthy questions together. This weekend I have a conference paper and a presentation to work on, so it will have to come after I finish those. I was up late working on a Tragedy response because even though I had tons of time to do it during the day outside of reading the essays, I apparently can't write until my back is against the wall. I'm the kind of student who shouldn't be cornered.

I had a huge sleep-in today despite the fact that I had some kind of horrific dreams about Andrea being killed (this is what happens when she abandons the Internet). Nightmares aside, I was relieved to get through yesterday even though I had pretty much shut my brain off after Tragedy. I'm meeting with Quayson on Thursday to talk about my thesis proposal.

I had lunch with Amanda, who fills me in weekly on Toronto literary scene gossip. Tim was late for Avant-Garde because he got momentarily trapped in the elevator in the Jackman Humanities building, which is in all honesty the shittiest elevator in terms of speed I've ever ridden in. One waits forever to catch it and then another eternity to get where he's going provided it doesn't stall. The stairwell isn't much of a help either because the doors to certain floors lock up at a certain time. I feel sorry for the English Department. They were kind of crammed into that building due to a fire in their building at King's College Circle last summer. They share it with insurance offices and dentists.

I signed out a book at the John W. Graham Library near Trinity College, finally solving a mystery for myself. A guide took my group to that library on a tour a few days before classes started back in September and said it was the quietest place on campus to study. I couldn't for the life of me remember where it was all year until I had to go there yesterday. It has study lounges with fireplaces.

I walked home from Keele station. Jay got in a few minutes later and announced that he was taking a bus to New York for a few days, so he left shortly after. Then he came back because he missed the bus. He's not here right now, so I'm assuming he finally caught one earlier this morning.

I sure am effing tired. Part of me just wants to head straight home after Tragedy this morning. The work is done. I have a presentation that just might hold together if I sound confident enough. Too bad coffee is out of the question since I elected to eat pizza last night. Damn this aging body of mine.

My mother's having a hernia operation today. I'm going home to see the fam on the weekend.

Yesterday I finished "Paradise" and my thesis proposal for Tragedy. I need to get this presentation done. I just want tomorrow to be over with.

I was able to catch most of the Oscars last night via a stream on some random website. No real big surprises. I was kind of amazed to see Tilda Swinton beat out Amy Ryan, but I haven't seen Michael Clayton yet so I don't know how great she was in the film.

I didn't leave the house yesterday, and I felt like I was starting to have a Howard Hughes thing going on. I did manage to finish all of my Tragedy readings ("Beloved" is fantastic. I'm a dope for going this long without reading more Morrison.) and draft my Coupland letter. After I shower and eat I'm heading to Robarts to look up some material on technology and the avant-garde. Then I'm heading to Matt's and we're FINALLY going to watch Brick.

My poor CD burner is having trouble keeping up with all of the activity I'm throwing at it. It's starting to only rip portions of albums before jittering out of commission. I should really go easier on it.

It's Groundhog Day. Depending on whether you believe Wiarton Willie or Punxsutawny Phil, you can take your pick of when winter's history. I wonder how global warming will impact Groundhog Day. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. It's enough to make me switch to canvas shopping bags.

I did watch Groundhog Day yesterday. A fantastic film that always makes me laugh. My favorite exchange:

Rita: What should we drink to?
Phil: To the groundhog!
Rita: I always drink to world peace.
(NEXT DAY)
Rita: What should we drink to?
Phil: I like to say a prayer and drink to world peace.
Rita: ...to world peace.
Phil: To world peace. *pause* Amen.

I finished Achebe's book and also read Sophocles' Oedipus Rex. Here's a great depiction of the latter by Charles François Jalabert:


I finished my Avant-Garde readings on Dada. What blows me away is the movement's foray into nihilism, particularly Francis Picabia. Richter lets off lines like this about him: "In spite of the fanatical, truly desperate battle that he waged against art, in spite of the theoretical anathemas he hurled at art, he never escaped from it." He also talks about condemning the "life-impulse" that forces artists to create. I don't BUY artistic nihilism. If the creative force within you is so strong that you HAVE to create in spite of your desire not to, the entire concept of nihilism can't apply to your output. Who the hell in their complete freedom of expression hates art so much that they feel as though they have to create against their will? It's complete bullshit. If you're a nihilist, don't create. All you're doing by creating is saying that you wish you weren't creating, and that's the most pretentious state of being possible.

Yesterday was Kim's birthday, and she and Matt are having a bunch of people over tonight after a pub stop. I have to pick up beer.

I woke up to the Eels collections I ordered from Amazon sitting on the kitchen counter: "Meet the Eels: Essential Eels Volume 1 (1996-2006)" and "Useless Trinkets: B-Sides, Soundtracks, Rarities and Unreleased (1996-2006)". As the names suggest, the CDs contain the band's more well-known material as well as pretty much all of their b-sides PLUS most of their videos, footage of their 2006 Lollapalooza performance, and booklets of pictures with E's written musings on the songs. This is what all CD releases should aspire toward. I'm excited!

Presentations in Tragedy started rolling yesterday, and Quayson completely tore into the girl who was presenting. I've seriously never seen a presentation derailed like this. First of all, she had prepared about 20 minutes more than she had to, so he told her to condense it. Then, she read for about two minutes, talking about metaphors and phallic symbols in the play, and Quayson interrupted with, "What makes this play tragic?" From there on in the presentation was pretty much out the window as the girl tried to connect the threads of her material to what he wanted her to talk about.

Glad I didn't go first.

Avant-Garde was terrific as always, and I've decided to write my essay on technology's effect on art. The bibliography is due in two weeks, so I'm going to dig into some Perloff, McLuhan, Barthes, and Landow to see what I can come up with. After class I had lunch with Amanda at Tim Hortons and got a bit of reading done before heading to the Ontario Archives. After being given the tour we were able to go through some fonds of information. I had a look at things belonging to the Gregg family of Toronto around the turn of the 19th century - papers, diaries (the actual, physical books), letters, recipes, photos, greeting cards, prayer journals... really fascinating stuff. This is where all of the random stuff I've saved over the years is going to end up, I know it. 100 years from now some U of T grad student is going to be rifling through my collection of movie ticket stubs, wondering why in the world I kept them.

After I got home I watched Nanook of the North and The Daily Show, went to bed and tossed and turned until around 2:30. I have a couple of things to read before Race and Cinema tonight. Right after I rip this Eels stuff.

I love the Eels.

I went to campus yesterday and to return a DVD and read M. H. Abrams' article on critical artistic theories for my Tragedy course. I've discovered the trick to finding a good location to sit and study in Robarts. On the upper floors there are certain desks wedged in the corners with their chair backs facing windows. It's like cutting yourself off completely from the rest of the library and having a view to boot. The trouble is that others know about the desks, so you have to be crafty and get there early or be patient in the hunt.

I eventually completed the 2-4 page response paper on Abrams and realized that I'd read that Shakespeare play a week early by accident. At least it's out of the way. Today is the day I have stuffed with classes, so I'll be looking forward to getting home.

Last night I watched what used to be my favorite episode of the X-Files, D.P.O. (or as I referred to it, Lightning Boy). Giovanni Ribisi plays a mentally ill redneck teenage kid who can channel lightning. Jack Black plays his friend Zero who works at an arcade. It's interesting to see him young and playing a more dramatic role.

Andrea arrives back in Canada today, and I'll get to see her briefly when I meet her at the airport and escort her to a shuttle that's taking her home to London. She sent me a Facebook message indicating that she's been setting off alarms at airports, so all that hinges on what security decides to do with her. Regardless, I can't wait to see her.

Yesterday I went to campus and had my best intentions cut in half by the U of T bookstore, which is still out of a book I need, and by forgetting a voided cheque for my OSAP installment. I did manage to read Shakespeare's Coriolanus and Aristotle's Poetics before heading home. As if an entire play and a book of philosophy weren't enough for one class, I still have to read a critical essay and Aeschylus's Prometheus Bound and write a response paper. Today I'm focusing on the Avant-Garde material. I'm starting to realize how lucky I am to have five free days to work on assignments.

I walked home from Keele Station and made some vegetarian chili for dinner before breaking into season three of The X-Files. After writing up some bibliographic annotations for Shakespeare and Aristotle, I watched Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, which unlike my recent reviewing of Episode I was NOT such a pleasing experience. The movie was worse than I remember. It doesn't feel as organic as the first film because it's so entirely digitized. You can practically see the actors moving around on the sound stage, talking to themselves. I don't care that the film is overly political. The romantic scenes are painful to sit through due to the lacklustre dialogue, and Anakin and Padme's relationship feels completely forced. More politics, please.

Since I returned from Europe I've been waking up under my own power at 7 AM, including today, though I chose to sleep in until 9. I have the feeling I won't be able to sustain this pattern.

WHAT I'M IN FOR (PART ONE)

Day one back at U of T is in the can. My first class on Tragedy in African and American Literature under Professor Quayson has a pretty intimidating workload: 2-4 page responses due every week, a presentation, a thesis proposal, a paper, plus a 40-item annotated bibliography. He also made it clear that he can't stand lateness or laziness. I should probably just live at the library like I was originally planning.

The Avant-Garde: Theory and Practice with Professor (call me Tim) Yu sounds amazing. I can already tell his lecture style is comprehensive and that the material is going to be thought-provoking (with even some Canadian content thrown in - Steve McCaffrey's Seven Pages Missing). Five 250-word response papers, presentation, paper, a 5-7 item annotated bibliography, plus a participation mark.

The Pragmatics of Writing Bibliography is helmed by Professor Sullivan, who knows many famous people and their relatives. She's also written biographies for Margaret Atwood, Elizabeth Smart and Gwendolyn MacEwen. It's my smallest course by way of population (eight people) and according to Sullivan will be run like a workshop. Fine by me. Because I was late in registering for the course, I missed the email instructing the students to have a subject picked for a research project to work on. I'd really like to do Coupland in preparation for my PhD but it might be tricky given that we're ideally supposed to choose a subject whose records are kept in Toronto. I'll think on it. The course has a short reading list (four texts) and further requires a project bibliography, a paper and a presentation of research.

In between classes I went to the Varsity and saw Atonement, which blew me away with its technique of telling a story visually before gradually setting it to words. It brought to mind the atmospheric elements of Picnic at Hanging Rock and the brutal scope of Cold Mountain.

Tonight from 6-8 I have my final course in Race and Cinema. After that I'll pack a tent and make my way for Robarts.