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Nov. 15th, 2005 11:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhondacrockettSooooooo... don't have anything to update you guys on, but I want to make an entry so here I am, lalalah!
I went to my pigeon hole this morning and found an essay waiting in it which wasn't there yesterday. The essays were due in the Friday before last. The person hasn't sent me anything toexcuse explain the lateness. You get a nice fat 0% and I don't have to read your stoopid answer, yay!!!
I hate The Man of Feeling. Nothing happens, there's no connnection from one bit to the next, the sentences are confusingly long (and not good-confusingly long like Dickens's sentences are) and Harley is an idiot who does nothing and dies for no good reason *kicks Henry Mackenzie* I can't believe this was so insanely popular back when it first came out in the 1770s. Mid-eighteenth-century people were all so busy swooning and sobbing and going into paroxyms, they forgot to have taste. If Jonathan Swift had been alive, he'd have had a heart attack. Then written a satire involving lots of breasts and excrement, yay!
One merciful relief about it is that it's short. Imagine if we'd had to read Clarissa as our sentimental novel! o.O'' (Info: Clarissa makes a very nice doorstop.) But at least in Clarissa, something happens.
I slept in this morning, much later than I was intending. I'm not sleepy enough to go to bed at a decent hour, but when it comes to the morning, I don't want to ever ever move.
I had very interesting dreams about the farm at home-home. I dreamt we had all kinds of wildlife living there naturally . There were turtles, tree-frogs, swallows and penguins who lived in old rabbit burrows!! I dreamt there was a stream that ran alongside the fence of our back field, and my family and I watched the turtles massing to swim upstream and spawn. After they'd gone, suddenly all these penguins lined up on the bank, then jumped in and swam in the same direction, going to feast on turtle spawn and possibly turtles themselves. All these tourists came to see the sight of the turtles and penguins as well, and they had to use an outside toilet where swallows had nested, and every time someone came out of there, the swallows divebombed them! There were all these hotels, hostels and bed-and-breakfasts on one side of our farm where the tourists stayed, and there were swallows nesting all over them too. The buildings reminded me of the bed-and-breakfasts in Portrush: all three-floor, terraced buildings in candy colours with fancy curved tops on the front walls and half-towers.
Anyway, as the penguins were diving into the stream, we saw a little girl down on the opposite bank. No one knew who she was or what she was doing there, but we were worried in case she scared off the penguins. Then she jumped into the stream, and sank out of sight! The only sign of her was a line of bubbles rising straight to the surface. My dad gave a shout and jumped into the stream to save her. When we pulled her out, she was wearing a kind of diving helmet made from a hollowed-out green pumpkin (!?), even though when she jumped in, she wasn't wearing anything on her head. We took her into this shed (which actually exists; it's on my uncle's farm) and took the helmet off, and it was my little sister Sharon. My parents were mad because they knew the diving helmet had come from our (real-life) neighbour. Then we went to see a retired colonel, who had recently started what he claimed was a luxury hotel, but when we got inside, we found it was more like a hostel, with one enormous room full of beds and divided up by curtains and cubicle walls to create a maze of people, suitcases, clothes and bedclothes. It was disorientating, but there was a great sense of fun and camaderie among the guests, and they didn't mind being put in what was essentially a dormitory.
Huh. Guess I had more to say than I thought...
I went to my pigeon hole this morning and found an essay waiting in it which wasn't there yesterday. The essays were due in the Friday before last. The person hasn't sent me anything to
I hate The Man of Feeling. Nothing happens, there's no connnection from one bit to the next, the sentences are confusingly long (and not good-confusingly long like Dickens's sentences are) and Harley is an idiot who does nothing and dies for no good reason *kicks Henry Mackenzie* I can't believe this was so insanely popular back when it first came out in the 1770s. Mid-eighteenth-century people were all so busy swooning and sobbing and going into paroxyms, they forgot to have taste. If Jonathan Swift had been alive, he'd have had a heart attack. Then written a satire involving lots of breasts and excrement, yay!
One merciful relief about it is that it's short. Imagine if we'd had to read Clarissa as our sentimental novel! o.O'' (Info: Clarissa makes a very nice doorstop.) But at least in Clarissa, something happens.
I slept in this morning, much later than I was intending. I'm not sleepy enough to go to bed at a decent hour, but when it comes to the morning, I don't want to ever ever move.
I had very interesting dreams about the farm at home-home. I dreamt we had all kinds of wildlife living there naturally . There were turtles, tree-frogs, swallows and penguins who lived in old rabbit burrows!! I dreamt there was a stream that ran alongside the fence of our back field, and my family and I watched the turtles massing to swim upstream and spawn. After they'd gone, suddenly all these penguins lined up on the bank, then jumped in and swam in the same direction, going to feast on turtle spawn and possibly turtles themselves. All these tourists came to see the sight of the turtles and penguins as well, and they had to use an outside toilet where swallows had nested, and every time someone came out of there, the swallows divebombed them! There were all these hotels, hostels and bed-and-breakfasts on one side of our farm where the tourists stayed, and there were swallows nesting all over them too. The buildings reminded me of the bed-and-breakfasts in Portrush: all three-floor, terraced buildings in candy colours with fancy curved tops on the front walls and half-towers.
Anyway, as the penguins were diving into the stream, we saw a little girl down on the opposite bank. No one knew who she was or what she was doing there, but we were worried in case she scared off the penguins. Then she jumped into the stream, and sank out of sight! The only sign of her was a line of bubbles rising straight to the surface. My dad gave a shout and jumped into the stream to save her. When we pulled her out, she was wearing a kind of diving helmet made from a hollowed-out green pumpkin (!?), even though when she jumped in, she wasn't wearing anything on her head. We took her into this shed (which actually exists; it's on my uncle's farm) and took the helmet off, and it was my little sister Sharon. My parents were mad because they knew the diving helmet had come from our (real-life) neighbour. Then we went to see a retired colonel, who had recently started what he claimed was a luxury hotel, but when we got inside, we found it was more like a hostel, with one enormous room full of beds and divided up by curtains and cubicle walls to create a maze of people, suitcases, clothes and bedclothes. It was disorientating, but there was a great sense of fun and camaderie among the guests, and they didn't mind being put in what was essentially a dormitory.
Huh. Guess I had more to say than I thought...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-11-15 10:19 pm (UTC)Also, that dream does sound sort of interesting - and a lot nicer than mine recently. O_o; I especially like the penguins.
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Date: 2005-11-16 01:31 pm (UTC)Your userpic made me smile ^.^