17/10/2002 - 10:27 p.m.

Great expectations.

Today was the Fundies mid-term. I got at least an 83 and at most a 92, so more than likely a B. The two questions (worth five and three points) I left blank were stupidly easy but I hadn't remembered which reading they applied to so, yeah. Oh, and last night I'd said that I bet my life "heuristic" would be on the exam- I get to live! Comparing notes afterwards, the only people who got the answer right got it from me during the show the night before. Lots of people owe me their three points.

There was a production meeting for Equus tonight. Interesting. The cast is bigger than the crew, or at least, I assume because it's a cast of about eight and there were four people at the crew meeting. (So, not counting the two that weren't there.) I expect the meeting itself would've been differently if Kristen hadn't been in such an odd mood. I've been mistaken for her two or three times, I don't see it. I do wonder why Q stressed that it was not a play about horses. Anyone who reads it should be able to see that it is about Dysart, and about his struggle with his job, and his life. To a lesser and more symbloic sense it's about religion.

I'm not so good with analysis sometimes. I mean, there's a line there. Lots of people see all kinds of "meaning" in my work that I did not put there. The places that I put in meaning are not places I expect anyone to see anything, and they usually don't. Knowing this, how can I do this to other people's work? There is a right analysis, but there are a few rights, the author's right, my right, and the person who grades my analysis' right. So, whose right am I going for? The author's intention, or my grader's intention? It's a hard battle that a student is not generally expeceted to win.

I sent off a huge long intelligent sounding letter to both the Hall Coordinator and my Resident Assistant today requesting to know how I'm expected to move in to a room in which there is no room for me. That's what all of the ramblings from the entry before last boil down to. There simply is no way that I am able to move into that room if she has a double loft and I have a single. I have no desire to use her loft, thank you very much, but the major point is that I have to be assigned a room in which I can move in to. For what she has done (and it's not her fault, but if they want to play games with me they can play them with her too) she can simply be charged single room price.

Anyway, some of you know that I can get quite verbose when I want to. I am well aware of the power of a hightened language register to strike fear in the hearts of others, and this is definately the style of this letter. Actually, a good high and mighty pen letter is a hell of a lot of fun to write. If nothing else, it looks intimidating, like you're not somebody to fuck with, and you know what, I'm not. Not when you're dealing with concrete facts. I went to the Des Moines public schools, I can argue this (you know, when I'm calmed down enough) and I won't just go away when they send me in circles so many times.

It is my hope that it does not come to this.

I should go to bed so I can get up in the morning and finish my No Shame piece. I have half a dozen starts by now, but no finish, and I know that there are at least two or three people who are really looking for me to do something. Damn expectations.