hesiod...you jackass.

Seriously. If it isn't mouldy/murky darkness, it's Zeus getting all shirty because of some giant or other's insolent manhood. Or it's Stalker!Hesiod rhapsodizing about little parthenoi who don't yet know the works of golden Aphrodite anointing their soft skin in an inner chamber of the house.

Why am I posting? Shrug.

snakes on a plane!

Or one snake, anyway. That entertains me.

Back up in Mad-city, started the library job, still vaguely concerned as to how I will find another job when most of the summer jobs have already been taken, but eh. Worst comes to worst, I can always donate plasma again...that was a useful activity down in Florida.

There are suddenly painted cows all over Madison - some fundraiser for the dairy industry, I believe - and it reminds me of all the painted winged horses on the NC coast. Ahh well, I'll drive home again in August, and maybe this time I'll get to the beach. I will, however, make damn sure to remember that Wythe County, VA, is a wretched place to speed. Even if you're only going 75 in a 65. Because the fuckers will pull you over and give you a ticket for $106. Not that I'm bitter at all, of course.

reckonin'

I reckon I haven't posted in a while. Which is why I am posting to say that even now, a week or so after getting back my last Elegy test, I am still endlessly amused that McKeown graded my Latin test in Greek.

I also reckon that I ought to label my OCTs. They seem to be disappearing from my shelf at an alarming rate, and I don't remember who has what at the moment.

Finally, I reckon I need sleep...but I reckon I need to write my damn Hellenistic paper more. Mmm, Theocritus.

bless.

It's Selection Sunday.
I'm sitting on the couch at Sarah's, typing up some of McKeown's Amores commentary. In a few minutes there'll be dinner - fish tacos - and then Katie and I are going to sprawl on the couch and watch a chick flick.
I spent a substantial portion of today outside soaking up the 80-degree weather, and my plans for tomorrow are similar. I also spent a substantial portion of time playing with Dillon, who is the sweetest kitty known to man.

Damn, it's good to be home.

an open letter

dear espn,

"game highlights" =/= "dookie vitale having an orgasm in the background as we get to see all the shots redick made (five) and none of the ones he didn't (sixteen)"

no love,
me

sometimes I amaze myself

Kind of like the stoner kid whom I tutor in Latin, except when I amaze myself, it is occasionally for good reason. For example:

Kudzita (9:56:04 PM): maybe I've just been stupid in trying to point out someone else's stupidity!
Kudzita (9:56:09 PM): what am I doing with my life?!
Kudzita (9:56:16 PM): oh wait, academia. that's all right then

On the other hand, maybe that isn't the finely-crafted gem of wit I thought it was. In fact, maybe I've been typing up McKeown's commentary on Amores 3.9 for too long and it has melted my brain. Maybe!

why diligence isn't worth it

I'm kind of wishing I hadn't been so good about getting up early this morning. See, I set my alarm for seven so I'd have time to shower and get to the library with enough time to do Tibullus 1.1 before class at 9:55 - such a good little grad student I am. But when I got here, I found an email from The McKeown saying he wasn't feeling well and class was cancelled, so essentially? I could've spent all day sleeping like I did yesterday.
On the other hand, by time my alarm went off I was more or less ready to get up anyway, since poor li'l hungover me spent most of yesterday sleeping and hence didn't sleep well last night even with the help of my magical sleeping pills. Meh, I say.

But anyway. Since I already started the day with the notion of "it'll be good to get work done," I might as well finish that dratted poem, do a bit more work, then head up to Van Hise for Sallust at 1:20.

Such an exciting life I lead, huh?