Writing my presentation about Lisa Yuskavage for my Realism class. I'm kind of unnervous about this one, since I'm taking big chunks of my thesis and reading it. No big thang, right? But then, on the other hand, my prof knows the artist. Yikes! And I don't say anything bad about her, but I don't know if she'll be weird or what. And this prof is very nice, very take-you-under-her-wing, but also one hell of an editor.
I'm giving my thesis to her tomorrow. I'm nervous about that. I didn't take every single one of her suggestions. I so hope we can get this done by the end of the semester. I will be so. freakin. happy. once I have my Masters in hand. :) Like that, only with my face.
And on a side note, I am feeling like an old lady of late. I have three doctors' appointments scheduled. The eye doctor, the dreaded dentist who I actually don't hate, and the dermatologist. It's funny that I've finally decided to go now, when what is likely a stress-related skin crappiness is showing itself again, yet I am finished with class work at the end of the semester. Christ, it'll probably clear up on its own soon! But really, no, because then comes the semesterly oh my god, I need a job thoughts. And the whole nebulous nature of my prelims and what the hell I'm supposed to do about those.
Argh, matey, I be afloat in the sea of grad school, far from the shore. I feel like chief Brody on the Orca in Jaws. In over my head with my wife calling out that she packed me some dramamine. Oh, except that'd be my mom. who I still live with, even though I'm married.
Here's to swimmin with bow-legged women!