I just came across an email I wrote to my favorite professor at Wheaton College many years ago. It was in response to a class conversation we'd had on Emily Dickinson and her manipulation of seclusion for the purpose of social control. It sounds a little fancy there, but let me tell you, the email I wrote was fancier. I don't think I was trying to be smart, either, because I used a very personal example - which I will not elaborate here - regarding my understanding of Dickinson's motivations and the manner in which her behavior would translate into the world of modern technology. I was not trying to be smart, but from my present perch, it sounded smart. I'm wondering what happened to that deep-thinking academic. Wondering all the more how it is possible that such thought processes actually diminished during my post-graduate education rather than flourished. Oh, academia. What a fickle beast you are.
Kathryn, do NOT be jealous of me going to the opera. It was weird. They were wearing these bulky animal costumes and clonking boots which might have been okay except that their footsteps drowned out the sound of the orchestra (Oh look! A band!). The plot was supposed to be about the circle of life or something deep, but it really seemed to be more about animals getting it on. It was an opera, though, so plot really shouldn't matter as long as the music is good. It wasn't. I mean, it wasn't BAD - but most of the singing was monotonous, the orchestration was unremarkable, and I hope to heaven no one from the production reads this. It would be so disheartening! They were all skillful - I just wasn't interested in the piece itself. But then, I have only ever seen very classical sorts of pieces. The Marriage of Figaro. Samson and Delilah. And I was listening to Puccini before leaving the house! What do you do? But then again, I was distracted by my seating companion. Five so
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