the Dalaverse

My art history text really, really needs to stop referring to shafts. My brain is too slash-addled for me to hold back the hysterical giggles.

Am at that fatalistic fuck-it-all stage in my pre-midterm panic. It's rather refreshing. I figure, I can at least BS my way though the slide identifications, and that's 35%. And the comparision also shouldn't be too hard, so that's another 15%, leaving me with 50% that I don't have to worry about. The definitions are 15% as well, and I might maybe can scrape by, leaving me with 65%, which is passing.

The essay? For the essay I'm just going to hold my breath and jump in.

In three and a half hours it will all be OVER.

And then I can study for my polysci midterm -- Monday -- and write my lit paper -- next Friday. Which, let's face it, aren't even going to get a glance until Sunday night and Wednesday, respectively. At the earliest.

And THEN! Then it's spring break! I can chill out in G-burg, catch up with everybody, watch "Ultraviolet" again, and writewritewrite. I'm still bugged by the AU bunny in which Elizabeth and Will are twins raised by their uncle Swann in London, and they sneak aboard Jack's ship and end up accidentally kidnapped. It would be J/W and E/N, and I really don't know what I would do about the other movie elements like, oh, let's see, how 'bout the main PLOT with Barbossa and the Pearl and the curse. It's just a really annoying, really tempting bunny.

Okay, back to staring at art. I love Titian's Venus of Urbino best, with her come-hither eyes and Fidelity asleep at her feet.

ETA: I hate the frisbee golfers. During the winter it was only the drunk and/or obsessive freaks keeping up with that baffling hobby, but now you can't walk outside without having to duck or risk getting brained by a neon fucking frisbee. And they're always in the parking lot, and we have the window open, and last night I was awakened by pyschotic frisbee golfing at two in the morning, and I don't like it and I'm PISSED OFF.

Thank you.