rosa_acicularis: (mr smith iz smart)
Best thing about today's graduation ceremony?


(Also, finally having the diploma in my hand doesn't suck.)
rosa_acicularis: (dorothy)
Three, to be precise. And not one of them is over the age of ten.

Three of the girls that I watch regularly just saw the 1939 Wizard of Oz for the first time. Understandably, they were entirely enraptured. As I understand it, the post-viewing conversation went something like this:

rosa_acicularis: (i will cut you)
I am considering hiring a brigade of rough-yet-charming lumberjacks to help me haul my library books back to campus on Monday. Otherwise, I might do myself a serious injury.

Oh, didn't I mention? My thesis and my oral defense were officially approved by the department on Thursday and as of Monday afternoon I am a student no longer. I shall be a dangerous, degree-wielding mean mother--

Shut your mouth!

Hey, I'm just talkin' about graduatin'.
rosa_acicularis: (ahh cheese)
Five minutes ago, I was about 97% sure that I had just deleted my entire thesis. I think my heart actually, physically stopped.

Then I realized that I was simply misreading the document name. For, you see, I had rather cunningly saved my thesis as 'mythesis'. But, as I'm sure you also see, this could easily be misconstrued as a document containing 'myth esis'.

I spent five terrible minutes wondering when the hell I'd written a paper about something called myth esis.

Nineteen hours to go, people. It's going to be a long night.
rosa_acicularis: (asskicking boots)


This makes me so ridiculously, unbelievably happy that I really should be concerned.

rosa_acicularis: (ouch shoes)
All right, people. The rough draft of my thesis is due in exactly twenty-three hours, and I'm about one independent clause away from hurling myself from the roof of the library, shouting, "I can fly! I can fly!" and clicking my heels together violently as I fall.

So this is me - desperate, insane, and sort of hungry. Remember me fondly when I am gone.

(Anybody have any thoughts on the cultural omnipresence of The Wizard of Oz and its significance in the American collective unconscious? What about immortality, sex, and death in children's literature? Anything? 'Cause that'd be awesome.)
rosa_acicularis: (so much for pathos)
I am dead, of thesis.

Long live me.
rosa_acicularis: (books)
Twenty seconds into Eighth Doctor radio drama Storm Warning (as if that weren't exciting enough) and the Doctor's going through his library and finds a copy of L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!


(Erm...yes. I suppose I should explain that I've spent the last year or so writing my thesis on Peter Pan and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. It is my LIFE.  So...I'm geeking out, basically. Just  wanted to share.)

I'll go listen to the rest, now, I think.
rosa_acicularis: (five)
I am American, 21st century Mary Poppins; this is certain.

In academic news, in class this morning I dropped my pen as my prof was taking roll. When he came to my name, I popped back upright in what must have been an unintentionally amusing manner, because he laughed and said, "Oh, Rose. You are such an lolcat."

The combined hilarity of the fact that my beloved prof (who specializes in the Victorian novel and is endlessly fascinated by Harry Potter fan fiction) not only knew what an lolcat was, but decided that I resembled one, sent the class into a shocked silence.

My prof then made a strange face, held up his hands like claws, and said, "My favorite literary tropes. Let me show you them."

It was, perhaps, the single greatest thing I have ever witnessed.


rosa_acicularis: (Default)

September 2012

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