Forget Everything I Just Said

So, my comprehensive exams for my M.A. degree have been staring me down since January, and I've been too "busy" (read: intimidated) to really get started studying for them. I should have started like, when I entered the M.A. program, but instead I'm starting now... heh. hehhhh.

First I toyed with the idea of taking them in the fall, like one of my friends did. That way I could get finals out of the way and study all summer. (Yeah right. I'm gettin' the hell out of here.) Then I thought I could just... not take them. I've got the knowledge, I don't need no stinkin' diploma. (This logic would work if anyone else on the planet subscribed to it, and if I were inherently a quitter. As it stands currently, I and the world are pushing me to not only take the exams, but pass them.)

I tried not to think about it, thinking constantly that "next week I'll really get crackin'... no excuses!" but then I of course made excuses and did not in fact get crackin'. What ever that means. I assume it has to do with corn, and someone named Jimmy that I don't care about.

But yesterday! Yesterday, this rather annoying woman named Montserrat (which would be a great name if she were a vintage wine, or a fancy watch) asked me how they were going. (Double annoying, Montserrat. You shut your mouth) We talked for a while about them, because apparently she took them fairly recently as well, although now I think she's a professor at some technical college in Ohio. I told her I thought that in all seriousness it was too much information for me to thoroughly study before May. And she said:

"Una palabra? Mejor que nada. Te lo digo: Una palabra-- mejor que nada."

So simple! So true! So helpful! "One word? better than nothing. I'm telling you: one word- better than nothing." HELL YES MONTSERRAT [WHO I WILL CALL MONTY IN MY HEAD TO MAKE HER MORE LIKEABLE]. So that night after gym I went to the library, got a lot of anthologies that I will skim for starters (just to know how much I don't know... diagnostics thus far reveal that amount to be hovering between one metric shit ton and four standard boatloads).

I am determined not *just* to pass, which previously was a comforting mediocrity for which to strive, but to pass with flying colors and kick this school in the face for being so damn unhelpful. That's about how I felt after I did so nicely on my main paper last semester, and I would absolutely love to see that look on a particular person's face again. Followed by immediately re-insisting on not going into the PhD program here.

That said, if you're looking for me I'm probably reading. Nothing fun, though, unfortunately.

Right now: Gerald Martin's Journeys Through the Labyrinth.