Japandamonium!!!

Dear Lord was today useless and unproductive. John and I got up MUCH later than we wanted to (not at 9 like we'd planned ... but at 2), and got almost nothing done. It's funny, he and I have developed an essentially siamese-twin existence; I don't think either of us has done anything without the other in days. It's nice now, but might become worrisome. We're becoming symbiotic - but who's the bull rhinoceros and who's the cranes that eat off his back? Who's Spider-Man and who's the evil black costume that enhances his powers; who's the alligator and who's the swamp bird that cleans his teeth!?!?

The agonizing questions of existence.

We've been doing really well though, it's neat having such a good feeling best friend that I am actually spending time with, as opposed to having a best friend who I am millions of miles away from. I don't understand why some folks think that 'best friend' means you can only have 1; that's just dumb. I have a small collection, but I'm usually far removed from them. Some from New Ro, some from Oberlin, some from Becket, some from the dojo, 1 from Philly - but I don't get to spend much time with any of them. Here and now, I got someone who is rocktastic and whom I feel real close with, and we get to see each other all the damn time and do everything together. Pretty damn cool.

I was supposed to be done with my Chaucer paper yesterday, and now it won't happen until tomorrow, and then I start in on the Dylan paper (then Sci-Fi, then Romanticism, Shakespeare, and Chaucer again - wheeeeeeeeeee). It's funny, I'm putting a whole lot into this Chaucer paper. But I think it's really good, too, and I'm realizing that writing convincingly on this particular subject is actually very important to me. I'm seeing now that the topic has been mulling in my mind for the two years since my last Chaucer course - in fact, not being able to solidly form or express my ideas about the Pardoner's Tale back then was one of the major reasons why I became an English major in the first place. It is an aMAZingly complex and personal and post-modern piece of writing, and seeing the perplexing beauty and gravity and sadness of it made me want to read and think about eveything I could, while not being able to peg down the things that were so amazing about it made me want to learn how to write and think critically. So yeah, I guess it's become a pretty important paper for me. But I really need to finish it, and to care less about making it perfect. I can keep revising it next year with Jen's help (she's one of my wonderful Oberlin profs, the one who taught that Chaucer class), but for now I just need to get down what I have to say and get it done. Done is good. Perfected is better, but good will do the trick for me now.

To bed. I have concocted a plan whereby John and I alternate mornings waking the other up with a cup of tea and a knock on the door; we'll sit together and coalesce over our tea, and thereby avoid going back to sleep. We try it out tomorrow, and I lost the coin toss so it's my responsibility to get it done. And that requires sleeping, now.

Before I go, a new addition to my blog: a regular quotation by Winston Churchill. Today's is about language:

"From now on, ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put."

Brilliance. Leave me comments.

PS: Do you find it odd that blogger's spellchecker does not recognize the word "blog?" I do. I sense foul play.