So, today I was half of a really, really good student. I have a yucky paper on Kubla Khan and for the first time in a very very long time I outlined the whole paper before starting to write it (and it was the best outline ever). Unfortunately, now at 1:30 in the morning, I have been unable to write and focus on it for a bit now. It's like my mind already thinks I wrote the paper and now wants nothing to do with the silly old thing! I was actually having a lot of fun with the outline, but now I feel like I'm just drudging on. Earlier tonight Sarah was talking to our old roommate Kailey on facebook and she said (in explanation of why I wasn't joining in the conversation) "Elise is trying to write a paper right now. Poor girl, five pages on a sex poem." Luckily, five pages is a lot better than it could be. But now I'm just kind of brain dead. A few minutes ago, I was so incredibly hyper that I couldn't sit still at all. My roommate Abby said she was going to pee her pants just watching me. And then I crashed. Like, really crashed. While it's true that I don't have class until noon tomorrow, I like to sleep as late as I can (when I stay up this late) and it's actually quiet for once in my apartment right now. Which is often why I stay up this late. Tomorrow morning, everyone will be busy bees, noisily getting ready and leaving. I could write my paper in my bedroom, but then my much too comfortable memory foam mattressed bed will be tempting me to just lie back down. Too bad I was trying to be really good and write an excellent outline. Twice in the last two hours I had a little cup of ice cream--that got me going, but now I just can feel the crash from the sugar---ugh! No bueno! (that's for you, Rosalind, except you never ever read my blog).

Did you know, that according to Melville, if God pressed up against the Romantic notion of the veil separating our world from the true, perfect veil, He would come out on our side as Moby Dick? I learned that the other day. Apparently, the biggest, strongest, whitest, most intelligent mammal is Moby Dick. And so Ahab was trying to kill God. Through Moby Dick. I just like telling people that Romanticists thought that God in our world would turn into Moby Dick. But then I have to explain it to them. Sometimes I tell my roommates cool things I learned in my English classes, but they really don't care at all. Except for Lauren, cause she's an English major too, but mostly I just complain to her lately about how sexual Kubla Khan is. That's why you shouldn't do drugs, cause then you'll turn out like Coleridge and then innocent college students will have to write papers on sex. Well, I'm twisting it away from that general direction. Although I did have to tell Sarah she couldn't listen to Lady Gaga while I was writing this paper. At first she said no, and then I threatened to tell her what the lyrics actually meant. Or I could tell her what the poem meant. Either one would be just as scandelizing.

As you can probably tell from this post, my mind really isn't working at all, this is just the randomest stream of conscious ever. I think I shall go brush my teeth, wash my face, and see if I can think. On second thought, maybe I'll just get up early. Yuck.

Over and out.