I'm back on campus after a mountain-theme weekend. Went to an party on Moscow Mountain, a sort of "we're all writers and only writers have been invited" type of MFA grad student party. Drank for six hours and had a fun time careening down the mountain later on. I listened to the creative writing profs complain about their editors and their book jacket pictures and stuff like that. There was a fabulous almost-full moon. Hiked around the mountain the next day. This place is so dry, so ready to combust into an apocalyptic fireball. I was afraid to even think of fire, lest I start one.
Freshman were disappointed that their gambling essays did not immediately earn them credit for every college writing course they'll have to take. One guy got to place out of my class and move up to English 102. He used a metaphor in his essay and I was like, "hallelujah, amen, pass this boy on up to the big leagues!" And so he went, and the other 49 freshman looked like they had been stabbed in the spleen. They hated me for the rest of the class, despite my assurances that had I passed them up to 102, they would all fail miserably. I tried to put a positive spin on it. I said, "The good news is that you're all correctly placed in this class, English 101." They didn't believe me.
posted by Jen at 3:06 PM link/comments
