wild rice

tomorrow i have to meet with my methodologies professor about my seminar paper topic.  i’m a little miffed, because i met with him on friday, and i suspect that he thinks i haven’t gotten any work done because i’m a slacker.  this is only half true.  i am not a slacker.  i’m just an example of how someone can dissolve into a puddle of student-goo when a 30-minute presentation on her final project is due one week after leading class discussion for an hour, which was due one week after her midterm.

so i’m prepared with lots of clever things to say about futurity and the acquisition of new knowledges and contingencies of literary value and how the institutional nature of the university makes us all drones of imperfection.  of course, this professor has a habit of stroking his goatee and saying phrases like “it’s obvious that…” and “as you surely know…” that make me stop and wonder how in the hell i got into grad school without a complete understanding of the minutae of michel foucault or e. d. hirsch.

but in the end, all you really need to know in grad school is darwin.  survival of the fittest. 

and on a related topic, as i was sitting in the library trying to look intelligent this afternoon, i started to think about rice undergrads.  they had the biggest undergrad party of the year last weekend.  it’s called NoD, which stands for night of decadence.  the tradition started as a bring-your-own-mattress party in the 70s.  now all the undergrads dress up in lingerie and get drunk.  i didn’t witness the barbarism, because i was locked up in my apartment eating macaroni and cheese and watching chocolat, but i imagine it’s interesting watching a bunch of 18-year-olds running practically naked among the well-trimmed hedges and gravelled courtyards of rice.

there’s another tradition called the baker 13 (baker is one of the “colleges” at rice — see my entry on the harry potter nature of rice for more details).  baker 13 is essentially a group of students who get together on the 13th and 31st of every month.  they head to the bathrooms in one of the dorms, take off all their clothes, cover themselves in shaving cream, and frolic all over campus leaving shaving cream butt-marks on windows and doors.  apparently grad students are allowed (and even encouraged) to participate.  maybe one day before i earn my phd i’ll make my butt-mark.  probably not.  shaving cream doesn’t have much staying power.

there’s a lot of nakedness at rice.

i always wished that AU had more traditional college activities.  unlike chapel hill, we don’t have a good luck well.  unlike georgetown, we don’t have a seal you’re not supposed to step on.  we don’t prance around campus wearing only shaving cream and a smile.  of course, there’s a certain appeal to belonging to an institution that doesn’t practice such inanities.  and if you need your own night of decadence, just go to dupont for the drag races.

off to bed. 

things i want to be when i grow up:
1. a professor
2. published.  a lot.
3. tenured
4. a writer for the onion
5. something that requires wearing pajamas and a tiara

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