I love the guys in my grad school classes. Well, the ones I actually know and spend time with socially.
They are a new and unusual phenomenon.
I have never before been friends with men in my field. There were about two of them in the English department back in undergrad. My male friends were in other fields or in theater. I discussed literature with women outside of class (I remember one incident that involved yelling over the resolution of Jane Eyre in the Quad) but not so much with the other gender.
It's just so refreshing to talk to men who are interested in literature (and most of them more interested in literature than I am) and then have a beer and talk about television (postmodern aesthetics of LOST or just general plot points) or stupid drunk things we did at parties and then talk about our take on Derrida.
Anyway, I'm spending the weekend in bed with Wallace Stevens. Or on the couch. And I'll probably mix some 10 Things I Hate About You in there, since it is my paper writing Muse.
But for some reason, I can't sleep right now, even though I'm exhausted. So guess which West Wing episode I'm watching?
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