A Frantic Post

Someone told me all I do on this blog is "bitch" about Egyptian. I'm not going to deny that: it is entirely true. Right now, however, I have the urge to write 30 posts condemning that class because I am faced with writing my second socs (sosc? which one is it anyway?) essay of the year and I haven't the foggiest idea what Marx is about BECAUSE I'VE SPENT ONE TOO MANY PRECIOUS HOURS PARSING EGYPTIAN SENTENCES THAT SAY SOMETHING LIKE "THE WIFE OF THE LOUD MOUTHED PEASANT IS MAKING 50 JUGS OF BEER AND 8 LOAVES OF BREAD."

End of bitching, on to boring.

Apparently my pictures advertising the varied reasons for coming to Chicago worked, since Yaman came to visit his uncle. Reportedly, he hasn't checked this blog for months, and probably won't for years to come, but Yaman, it was great to see you yesterday. Here are some pictures left over starting from Friday night, when we had our last concert of the quarter.














I used to draw lightposts like this over...and over...and over...again when I was in hum last year because I could see them outside of the window. Now, apparently, I draw things like this:








James, if you think this is ugly, you should see the statue I made out of peanuts and veggie burgers executed in the dadaist style representing you kicking a football.

Then, of course, there is Mandel Hall:















The house doesn't get too much fuller than this during concert time. Just kidding.
















In the European decorative arts section of the Art Institute. I can't say there was a huge demand to see this stuff.
**Note to self** Do not jump up and down when taking pictures, as it will only create irritatingly blurry pictures.















Paper weights. Moving on. The sad part is that I'm actually kind of excited to write my art history paper, but first I have to get through this accursed Marx paper. The problem is that if I ask for an extension, then I have less time to focus on other things, such as my art history paper. But it's sounding really tempting right now.
















It's commercialized Christmastime in the city.
















Another wig shop, but this one is in Hyde Park. That's why the wigs look like those wigs you wore as a third grader to go trick or treating.















Everyone remembers Julie, right? Here she is!

Ok, since I've finished updating, this means I've got to play about one million games of freecell and THEN start my paper. Chlamydia came right in time, by the way, because the speakers on my computer have decided to chicken out today after I think some Ella Fitzgerald was played too loudly on them last night after watching An American in Paris.

Speaking of which, this is, I think, the first time this year I've sat through an entire movie, and it was so disconcerting to watch Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron getting the third degree from everyone else in the room. No one watches musicals for the dialogue! I don't think I can watch another one of my movies with anyone on the floor anymore.