It wasn't the best of days, but it wasn't the worst of days

I'm not usually a deep sleeper, and I usually have at least one dream a night, but last night was an exception. I slept for almost 11 hours straight, without even a whiff of a dream. It was practically like being in a coma!

Anyway, once the day or afternoon got going, I was feeling great. The weather was cold and blustery - in other words, PERFECT - and the bus was on time. I read part of an article on Emerson on the way to school, and we discussed it in class for an hour. Interesting stuff, but I was feeling kind of intellectually fatigued and overwhelmed since I hadn't finished the article, so I didn't really make any comments.

After Emerson class, I ate lunch and did all the reading for my film class, much of it while sitting in the classes I TA for. I felt a bit guilty for reading instead of paying attention, but since I've already taken the classes and don't feel obligated to contribute or participate in student-like activities, I justified myself. Anyhow, I was punished in the end with the recognition that reading in a quiet room while only one person is talking can be extremely difficult. I was reading various works by Wordsworth, Faulkner, and C. S. Lewis, but still managed to overhear quite a lot about Rococo Art, Tartuffe, Critical Thinking, and the "To be or not to be" speech from Hamlet.

At 4:50 I rushed off to my film class in the HFAC, and enjoyed some lecturing, film clips, and music clips presented by our wonderful, entertaining, knowledgeable professor. He also handed us back our first graded assignment - which I had spent one or two hours on, for the record - and I got an A. Hooray! :) He then proceeded to assure us that his harsh criticism was meant to be encouraging and supportive and that he had faith we would all improve and yada yada yada. I was wondering what on earth he was talking about until I remembered that there were 20 or so freshmen in the class. Poor little freshmen. Serves them right, though. And I can say that because...I once was one? It's true? Free speech? I'm heartless? All of the above? None of the above? Discuss.

We spent the last two hours watching Army of Shadows, a French film about the resistance during World War II, and then our despicable, horrible, unfeeling teacher STOPPED it. BEFORE THE ENDING. I and the other hardcore film/Humanities majors sulked and glared, but the freshmen looked relieved. He promised to show us the rest next week, but I'm going to look it up tonight because there's NO WAY I'm waiting a whole week to find out if Philippe makes it through the war or if Francois really is dead or if Mathilde decides to betray all her comrades rather than have her daughter sent to a Polish whorehouse for German soldiers. The film is emotionally gripping and occasionally terrifying (several parts reminded me of one of the most powerful and horrific films I've ever seen - The Last Days of Sophie Scholl), but it did lose me several times with its characters - I confused their faces and voices a couple of times - and contained many intricate steps and twists which I found hard to keep track of. It was a long film, and a war film, to boot, both of which in general are just exhausting, and even more so when the setting is in an unfamiliar land with foreign characters speaking foreign languages. But I think I'll remember several things from it for a very long time.

Hmmmm, I've just realized that all the films I've seen in the past week - Ben Hur, Amazing Grace, A Man for All Seasons, Pan's Labyrinth, and now this - have been really heavy, awe-inspiring films with profound messages about gigantic themes like war and violence and injustice. No wonder I've been so depressed lately - will someone please pass the comedies?

Well, I'd love to write some more, but really got to get going now. There's some papers I promised to look over for some of my students tonight, and then I've simply got to do some more reading in this potentially scandalous library book - I only have THREE chapters left!