A Good Semester?

I attended my first Creative Writing Nonfiction course today. It looks like a lot of writing and it looks like it's going to be a fun class, not least for the fact that there are several extremely nice looking girls in there. Several friends are taking the same course too. I know several people and my philosophy too, so it should be a good semester.

For Nonfiction, we were asked to read half a book by Wednesday. A little oppressive I think, but I know what she's doing, most of the other professors do not assign any real work in the first week of classes, so she figures we have all the time in the world (oops, cliche) to read. We do, or least I do, but two hundred pages in a day and a half is a bit much.

The rain cleared up a little today and the sun vaporized the rest of the white fluffy clouds. I went out there to be bathed in light. It felt great, like pure energy. I am solar powered.

The barbecue yesterday was a semi disaster. I knew it would be tough to get some of the guys together, but I didn't think it would be that tough. Several of them have their lives completely controlled by their girlfriends/wives. Devo had his in-laws over on the weekend, and there was no escape for him on penalty of death. Kevin and Earl had to visit their in-laws. Kevin phoned to cancel as the barbecue was happening. Drew had to go -- get this -- to a Tupperware party with his girlfriend given by his girlfriend's best friend. He couldn't get out of it. Brian had to spend time with his family, because he's been working long hours (okay, this is a good reason). Nigel had a family thing (it's his birthday on Wednesday, which is another good reason). Trevor didn't call and didn't show up. Steve was putting together a roller hockey team. Etc. etc.

So the football pool is a no go. Big fucking surprise. I wonder if it's just me who enjoys socializing, talking, eating, and drinking -- having a good time together. I don't know. I get sick and tired of pushing and maintaining friendships, yet what would I do without them.

I was looking through Don Quixote de la Mancha again for my review. I cannot believe what an awesome book it truly is. It's definitely in the top twenty of the books I've read. And I was looking over my reading list the other day, thinking to myself, you know, I haven't read a really bad novel in years, I guess it's just because I don't start novels unless I know something about them or about the author or about their importance in the Canon. And it's true, one of those traits that scream: anal retentive. But it's also about time management. Books take time. My reading begins to sound like a disaster area, triage: this book could be read but you don't have the time to waste; this book should be (or, would be nice to) read eventually but it's not urgent; this book must be read now otherwise I will either never read it or it has been put off long enough or I need books to take in to trade for other books so I should read it. The image of a train wreck crystallizes with one look at my bookshelves.