So, here I am, in the middle of the day, posting on my blog, when I should, by all rational expectations be on campus. But no. Mike and I decided to drown our sorrows (iu lost) last night with my fifth of whiskey and poker until...what...4 or 5 this morning. And then we woke up at 8. So I said, "Fuck this, man!" and went back to bed until...oh...about 2 minutes ago. When I realized how much reading I'm behind on, and how much I have to do for Monday, I decided to skip my other class, and just catch up on things today. I'm still being productive. Even though my Hapkido Gi might be in today, and I should go to get it, we aren't doing anything new today in there, just practicing with focusments some more. And King Lear is more important than punching, sadly, in the life of this English major. Besides, we were watching a movie in E-linguistics, so I don't feel too badly about skipping. I have an English linguistics class, and a science one, so I'll denote them with an E or S, just in case you care what I'm talking about. Which I'm sure you don't. Poetry class almost came to blows yesterday, which was quite exciting really. I'm fully expecting a fistfight at some point in there...AHHHH! Why can the people above me not quit stomping??? Jerks. But, um, poetry. The poem that I workshopped was received fairly well, except by one guy, who's opinions I'm totally ignoring for the rest of the semester. However, I fear for the safety of this week's poem. Austin managed to convince me somehow that workshopping is meant to make your poetry better, not about trying to write the best poem you could and bring it in to class. Says the boy who brings the kick-ass poem of the week. But, in any case, I brought a transitory poem, in between caterpillar and butterfly, in a very fragile state, and I'm afraid they'll eat it. *sigh* Hopefully, Austin and Larkin can save it from them. Well, I need lunch, and to submit to the calls of Shakespeare. 'til later.