ups and downs, mostly downs

Hi there, folks! It's been a while. Nice to see you stuck around! Did you stick around? Okay.

So, today in class my pre-1800 English Lit professor talked to us about his mid-life crisis.

Then I came home and worked on my paper about Andrew Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress," which is a really spectacular antidote to last week's Spenser and Fatal Attraction blues. The poem, not the paper, though the paper isn't bad either — I have what seems to me like a strong thesis, and I'm actually excited about it, except for the having to write it part. The particularly awesome thing about this paper, though, is the fact that sometime around the third hour of work tonight, I found out that I've now been given two extra (weekend!) days to do that bit. Aaaand of course, in accordance with the laws of my nature, as soon as I found that out, I decided to sport me while I might.

However: I regrettably chose to do so by watching Battlestar Galactica [spoiler!~~~ ha ha, sorry Idler, there is no way to capture that hand motion in print], and I just watched the episode in which the President decides to outlaw abortion, because, hey, the survival of the species depends on allowing parasites to hijack the bodies of the handful of women out of 40-odd-thousand who get pregnant and don't want to be — even the ones whose parents are going to kill them for being pregnant. But it's okay, because guess what flavor of genitalia every single person who is opposed to the President's decision has? Yes! Penis!! And, more importantly, guess what flavor of genitalia every single person who is in favor of the President's decision has? Uh, I'm not allowed to use that kind of language!

Three steps back, one step forward, one step back. Keep going until you're backed against the wall, then get punished for stopping. And that's what it's all about. Hey!