Saturday?

Today being Saturday, I of course spent almost 14 hours at school.

14 hours. That's a damn long time. However, it was a useful 14 hours of Saturday at school! I:

1. attended the second half of the ECHO conference (does anonymizing the blog mean I should change the name of the conference? Okay, I'll call it REVERB.)

2. read most of the useful bits of the two books I needed to read for my paper due Monday.

3. wrote four pages of said paper.

4. ate unbelievable quantities of delicious cheese.

5. cursed myself for a fool for eating all that cheese and not washing my face this morning. This is a surefire recipe for a giant face pimple. Which is on the way and already starting to pain me. Stupid post-puberty persistence of pimples.

6. came up with some more ideas for my paper due Wednesday.

7. got a ride home with Z2 and the cute boy from the REVERB conference.

8. saw the last half hour of The Birdcage, one of the best films in existence.

Sadly, I will be back at school for at least four hours tomorrow. Because the score I need for my Monday paper is non-circulating. Both copies. Because otherwise people would keep checking out this 17th century sacred Jewish song collection all the fucking time. Really. It's so popular. Luckily, the library is only open 1-4 on Sundays, so I can't possibly work with the score any longer than that. I'm glad there's no way my paper can possibly take longer than that.


To alleviate the bitterness of that last paragraph, here's a fun story I read while researching for my paper (paraphrased):

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess who went for a walk among the common folk. Some lazy jerk sitting around on his ass called out, "I'd tap that!" The princess replied, "Over my dead body," and walked out of the story forever. The jerk, being a jerk, interpreted that as "I'll meet you in the graveyard for sexy sexy sex." He went to the graveyard and jerked off for a week or so, waiting for her. For no apparent reason, this caused him to become a holy man, and people came to his cemetery for the rest of his life to get his blessing.

Isn't Kabbalah bizarre? This is a fourteenth century rabbi's story, retold by a seventeenth century rabbi, then by a twenty-first century scholar, then by me. I think my version is the best.