Honesty

It seems that no matter how old you are of the occasion that comes up... Procrastination is the majority. At least when it comes to writing papers. People rarely work on papers right when they are assigned, they wait until a few days of cramming or the panic of the night before. I just wanted to point this out.

Better late than never?

I always forget to post at a reasonable time.
Example, my sonnet is written on a piece of paper stuck to a cork board at my dilapidated hut.

But this post is about Fred Turner.
He is a WONDERFUL speaker. I brought my significant otter (or wombat as I affectionately call him) along with me. A surprise to me, he loved the reading. My wombat wished that he had gotten off work early to sit through the whole event. I loved Fred's writing style, the passionate visuals. I love visuals. Loved the poem about the bursting pear trees in the spring. That poem made the biggest impression on me, not that the others sucked, just the pears blooming captured my mind.

The next day in class he talked about nothing. And how nothing is everything. And how discovery of nothing involves everything. How being active and reactive is the act of discovery. I followed all of it at the time, but trying to recreate his mind's path is proving itself extremely difficult.

If he comes back to Bozeman, I will definitely go see him speak again.

The end is near

Summer break will be here soon. The birds have begun to chirp their sweet songs. The Montanan weather is fluctuating more than a pregnant woman's mood. The snow on the mountains is melting. To normal people, summer means warmer weather and trips to the lake. For college students, there is an intimidating guard at the gates of summer: finals week.

For this class there is no final exam (thank god) but there is a final project or paper due.
I have two ideas but I'm at war with myself trying to decide.

The parallels of mythology and Shakespeare
Or
Shakespearean names and character breakdowns

I am kinda leaning towards the names and references of names because I myself possess a lot of names, but on the flip side I think that the parallels topic would be interesting to do.

Help?

Dreams of being awake

What are my dreams? Mundane reruns of my daily life.

Work.

I work at a grocery store and at my store we have codes for ever item of produce. I have remembered hundreds of numbers just for produce. Fruits, veggies, leafy greens, all have codes and all are crammed within my head.

Back to my dreams

Every night, without fail, I dream of typing in those damn codes.
Turnip: under stew vegetables, 96
Tomatoes on the vine: 252
Organic Granny Smith apples: 324
Jicama: 126
Red grapes: 39
Mini watermelons: 114
Organic bananas: 326

Codes. I dream of stupid codes. I pick up the item. I put the item on the scale. I type in the code. The register beeps. I move the item to start the cycle over. And over. And over. I never rest while I rest. The rest can rest, but I unlike the rest, will not rest like the rest. I shall put this post to rest.

There are Faeries Among Us

In class today we were discussing the changeling Titania had stolen/received and how Oberon wanted the child.

Along the truest sense of the legend, a changeling is a healthy Human child that has been stolen by the Faeries and replaced by a sickly Fae child. The title of changeling goes to either child, the Faerie or the Human.

As Titania and Oberon discuss their lovers quarrel, they mention a time of when they used to dance in ringlets (thereby creating a faerie ring). I was told to post a faerie ring for everyone's knowledge.

The original legend of the faerie ring is that is always made of toadstools, although when one looks through google images, more grass rings show up than the traditional rings.

I have included the Wikipedia link below for more knowledge on the actual fungi and more folklore.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fairy_ring

Love

Many people when asked about Shakespeare, they talk about Romeo and Juliet. people always link Shakespeare with love. forbidden love. unrequited love. scorned love. You get the point. Just the other day I texted my lovely boyfriend our daily quote; and as you guessed it: Shakespeare.
         
   "when I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew"
                                                           ( Hamlet Act 2, Scene 2)

But the real question: why is Shakespeare all about love? He wrote about betrayal, witches, history and various other topics. Why does no one think of his other works?

While you think about that, here is a bear in love.

A Moment of Poor Taste

Something I found being highly ironic to the class yesterday with all the "Sam and Sam I am"s