Week 6

Evidently I'm not appeasing the masses with my sporadic posting. HERE:

I find myself, all of the sudden, in the midst of Week 6. I'm a third of the way through the semester. My love for graduate school abounds with each turn of the page and each sip of freshly brewed Starbucks (I had four cups this morning, a full cup above average).

Literary theory is rocking my world. I am intrigued by the study of power dynamics and hierarchies that attempt to pass themselves off as "natural." I'm a bit embarrassed to have been such an unwitting, complicit sheep in these constructions before delving into our Lit. Theory anthology. This class necessitates adopting an intellectual humility, which I think bears some valid applications to our spirituality. I would be happy to elaborate, but I promised Brain a reprieve. The Dude is rather worn out, understandably. If you'd like to make an appointment, he'll be in at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow.

I still enjoy Truth in Nonfiction as well, though it's interesting how much nihilism can pervade the discussion at times. I'm not really bothered by it, but it's suprising that so many people subscribe completely to social constructionism and scoff at essentialism. I am bothered by the notion that nonficton apparently MUST be dark and hopeless to accurately reflect reality and be taken seriously. Rarely a dull moment in that class.

If you'll permit me to alter course a bit here, I'd like to regale you with a conversation I had with my fellow grad students last week. After realizing our 9:00 had been canceled, we decided to go to breakfast. They are all female, so as per usual, I endured some good natured jeering. Evidently someone had stumbled upon some questionable Facebook pictures of mine involving kilts and suggestive homo-erotic poses. *Removing tag* Anyway...

Somehow, I think we were talking about chivalry or some such nonsense (read with intended irony) and I am proud to have learned a thing or two concerning flower-giving etiquette.

Roses, evidently, are an epic cop-out flower. Too cliche.

Chrysanthemums are also a no-no. Why? I can't remember. Wasn't really paying attention...

Carnations are disgusting. Might as well give them a flamming bag of excrement, I suppose.

I heeded the words of the eldest (she's only 27) and married member of the group, who lauded the Star Gazer Lily. Quite lovely, indeed.

For some reason, all of this was relayed by my peers to our professor today before class. He recommends the Corpse flower, which is reminiscent of the smell of a decomposing mammal, due to its fragrance. It's also known as the carrion flower.

I walked away feeling rather empowered by the knowledge. Flowers: man's power to make women either swoon or vomit.

Lo, the phallic Corpse flower.