So one of my classes this semester is 19th Century American Novelists. I took the class because I had heard that you’re required to read Moby Dick and while the pragmatist in me is all like “Holy Jesus H. Christ don’t do that!” but everybody here stopped listening to that guy about the same time we decided to go back to college and get a degree in Creative Writing.
Anyway, it’s not just Moby Dick, oh no, it begins with The Scarlett Letter. Yes. That one. The one from High School with Demi Moore in it. And okay, fine, I’m a fancy panys English major so okay. But I have to read the first half of it by next week. And I know that’s actually not that bad either, it’s like 122 pages in a week. Fine. I guess that’s not even worth complaining about, but – you know – shouldn’t the Professor check with me first? Because I have a killer week coming up and also, I don’t wanna.
I guess that’s the actual point here. Maybe the ‘A’ actually stands for, “Stop complaining like a whiny little girl.”
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1 comment:
I'm really glad the Demi Moore movie hadn't been made yet when I had to read this book in HS. Also, I didn't hate her yet - she was just the druggie chick from "St Elmo's Fire" who may have actually been doing Rob Lowe onscreen in "About Last Night," which, how did I get into that movie when I was in HS - wasn't it rated R? Anyway, I don't remember it being that hard of book to read, but it's been more than 20 years, so what do I know? At least it's not - well, I was going to say Melville, but I guess you're getting to him later in the semester.
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