Ah yes my friends, The Portrait of a Lady sits on my bed and stares me in the face. And what do I do? Sit here. At my computer. Procrastinating with my Blog. (Such a silly word by the way...blog blog blog...go on, say it out loud...this web site is not only fun and educational, but ineractive as well...) So anyway, for the edification of my readers (perhaps I'm putting on airs making that word plural) I will recreate a most tragic tale of hypocracy that happened today in my English lecture. A story of a young girl, whose name has been changed to prevent embarassment, who comes to terms with her own vices...

Student:(typing onto lap top) Aug. 26, 2002. Eng 45C Lect. The Proffesor takes stage. One of those nervous, bubbly types. She hunches her shoulders and squints her eyes occasionally for emphasis, sort of like she's caving into herself or trying to hide...(clickety click, etc. from the keyboard)...She attempts to create a feeling of membership, leaning in for little intimate asides with her captive student audience. I think this woman is a Christian. (clickety click, etc...) She must not like herself, (clickety)
Student scrutines Proffesor further.)

Kate: (is distracted by incessant clicking and peers over row of seats to read what Student writes.) Aside. Nervous?! Bubbly?! She's just a nice lady! Vivacious even! VIV! AY! CIOUS! And you think she's INSECURE because she LEANS FORWARD?!?! What the hell's the matter with you?! You and your little CLICKEY KEYBOARD?! Who are you to judge? Oh, you're one of those tortured artists, are you? Feel the need to comment on every little thing, do you? Everyone else is just SO bourgeios pedestrian middle class to you, AREN'T THEY?! I bet you think you're the world's foremost undiscovered literary GODDESS, huh? Typing away all day at people. Ewww. You disgust me. I would never be so judgemental. Never.
(After a reflective pause...)
Oh, how the mighty have fallen...

There now, moving, wasn't it? I'm going to go read Portrait of a Lady