Whew. To say my weekend was uneventful would be a severe understatement. I spent half of it in the car driving to the cities and back to Morris. I met up with various friends for coffee. I attended another concert (post to come!) and crashed on an oversized bean bag chair in a friend’s dorm. I went home for part of a day to hang out with my brothers (who I won’t see again till Thanksgiving). I also went thrifting as I travelled from place to place.
Whew. I’m feeling kind of sort of really exhausted, but the time has come to gear up for midterms. My next two weeks consist of two huge tests, a quiz, a project, a persuasive speech, an article response, a 6-8 page paper, and a ten minute presentation. As we say in Minnesota… Ufda!
(In which my cat, Paco, takes full advantage of my fatigue.)
A great and glorious tale was born during my innovative creative writing class today. It was an in-class activity that our textbook referred to as “Leapfrog”. Here’s how it works. We got into groups to write a collaborative story. The only catch was only one person could write at a time. When the professor gave the cue, we had to switch writers. The time slots weren’t consistent, so at points we would madly get a few words in before handing it off. At the end, everyone read their creations to the class. The result was a bunch of hilarious nonsense that, somehow, seemed like creative genius.
Here is the story I worked on with classmates Meara and Adam. I just read it aloud to my roommate, Katie, and she insisted it needs to be shared with the world.
The gladiator stood in the center of the dusty floor over his vanquished heathen foe. “GrrrRAR,” he said. “GRRRRRARRARARARAAGGHH.” He was a skeleton imprisoned in a deep pit of a great gelatinous beast.
“Oh my goodness,” he cried one hundred years later. “I have been trapped in this pit for so long, I no longer remember the taste of peanuts!”
Then suddenly, he died. From the peanuts.
We pan over to an empty field, below a forlorn mountain.
There was a cave at the bottom into a lake of lava.
A rabbit stood above the field and cave, majestically adorned with a cape made from the FLAYED scales of the leviathan that dwells in the lava. “Ahoy!” The rabbit was dead. THE PLAGUE HAD CLAIMED ANOTHER.
And no one heard of the terrible beastie again, for he had sated his hunger for impossibility, and died.