which we were to sign up for a topic and date for a presentation we have to do.
Luckily I had decided to sit in the second row, close to the windows, since the
50-odd class freaks me out a little when I'm sitting in the back. The light
streaming in from the windows means, at least, there is some kind of escape.
She'd talked a bit about the presentations earlier, and had mentioned a bit
about Dostoyevsky's Brothers Karamazov being one of the options. So as the
sheet was going around -- there were about 10 people ahead of me -- I could
not stop worrying someone would steal my presentation spot. It was pure dread.
Anguish. Two more people came in to class late, one of whom sat behind me,
and I vowed to kill him if he stole my topic.
Then it dawned on me: no one is going to steal that. Only very strange people
have an obsession with the Russian authors.
'I'm safe,' I thought.
And I was. Thank goodness for strange obsessions.
Here is an excerpt from my notes. Camus, I love you. You've solved my problems,
for although you didn't give me one bit of information that would help me better
understand life, you've made me realize that I can't.
In addition, I'm loving Latin. Expect the dangling participles to return!
Here are a few videos Abby and I found. I'm slightly encharmed.
No one else thought this was funny. Everyone kind of thought I was a freak for
laughing at this kid's loinal pain.
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