In which my glasses snap in half
...so I've been walking around all day with Gigantic 1970s Grandma Sunglasses on my face--in the bleeding library of all places. Piece of advice? If you're going to break your glasses, don't do it on a Sunday. On Sunday, the eyeglasses stores are closed. And you will probably have to teach on Monday morning with sunglasses on, because your students probably wouldn't make fun of you for that, right?
Not that I'm worried about my students really making fun of me. It can't be any worse than when I started the poetry lesson with my afternoon section and one of the students went to Dictionary.Com on his laptop and played the entry for "poem" out loud to prove that I pronounce it in a strange manner. (Not that I didn't know this! But "pomme" is "apple" in French, and Dr. Crowder used to say "poym," too! So, you know, deal with it.)
Anyway, the moral of the story is that you've just simply got to be fucking kidding me. You know what I don't have time to do? That's right--go buy new glasses frames and have them put my lenses in them. And you know what one thing my grad student health insurance doesn't cover? YUP! Vision.
Hat: antique shop-ed
(purple, though you can't tell)tights: new from Buffalo Exchange
boots: Naturalizers via JC Penney
sunglasses: antique shop-ed, almost my perscription(!)
Anyway--so, the library. I have to present a critical article about Middlemarch this week, so last night I did a search on MLA for the most rececnt Eliot scholarship. I happened upon an essay from April 2010 of English Language Notes that seems to tie affect in to Middlemarch. I'd tell you more, my loyal readers, but after trekking down to library to get my hands on that issue of the journal (no e-access, apparently), scanning it twice (the first time the quality was very poor), and staying at the library to grade student responses on Adrienne Rich poetry for three hours without a lunch, it would seem that I failed to email the scans to myself.
So, I'll be back at the library tomorrow.