You Might Be an English Major If...

~ You like to laugh at whoever made notes in your literature book before you. They had no clue what they were talking about.

~ You get a special thrill when you've already underlined a passage your professor highlights in class.

~ It takes you three times longer than necessary to study for a literature exam, because you keep getting caught up in how beautiful the words are.

~ Your idea of "relaxing" is paraphrasing Paradise Lost in modern English.

~ You're reading a book for pleasure, but keep feeling like you ought to be taking notes.

~ People ask you grammar questions instead of looking up the answers, because you're faster.

~ Some of the truest joy you've ever felt comes from finding a book source that is truly PERFECT for your research paper. (This happened to me about an hour ago and I'm not gonna lie, I'm still coming down from it.)

~ If listening to your favorite song looks like this.

~ You experience gut-wrenching horror, anger, and sorrow when book-burning is mentioned.

~ A fun evening of relaxing can totally include watching a Macbeth adaptation or reading scholarly articles on femininity in "The Birthmark."

~ You are beyond tired of the question, "So do you wanna teach then?" English majors do not have to be teachers any more than math majors have to be calculators.

~ It feels completely normal to spend 80 minutes talking about phallic and yonic symbols. In fact, you don't really even notice.

~ The inappropriate use of "literally" makes you want to walk away from a conversation--LITERALLY.

~ You are the go-to person whenever someone needs his or her paper edited. And you don't mind.

~ You hear the phrase "country matters" and start giggling mischievously, because Hamlet.

~ You check out a book at the library called "Gold-Hall and Earth-Dragon:  Beowulf as a Metaphor" JUST BECAUSE IT SOUNDS INTERESTING.

~ You have turned in over 100 pages of writing this semester.

~ You cringe whenever directly quoting forces you to use controversial punctuation. {I like my Oxford commas, thank you very much.}

~ You actually have an opinion on the Oxford comma.

~ You go out with your friends and end up talking about Hamlet's psychological state, why you're in love with Emily Dickinson, and how Wallace Stevens was a total nihilist.

~ You care enough to compile a list of things called "You Might Be an English Major If..."

Bonus Round:
You might be a SENIOR English major if...

~ You accept the challenge of writing a paper on a text you have not quite finished reading.

~ You email your professor a question about your paper and justify crossing off "work on paper" from your To Do list.

~ You really hope your professor remembers the amazing paper you wrote freshman year and gives you a massive benefit-of-the-doubt about this current one.

~ You write a blog post about your paper and justify crossing off "work on paper" from your To Do list.

~ You do not crumble at the thought of reading 250 pages in a weekend, and another 400 between Monday and Thursday.

~ You start crying when your professor changes a paper requirement from "12-15 pages" to "10-12 pages."

~ You start crying when your professor postpones a paper deadline by a week.

~ You just generally start crying a lot.

You might be a senior English major at Campbell University if...

~ Your professors are some of the most important and amazing people you've ever had in your life, and you are going to miss them every bit as much as you're going to miss your friends. Free pizza.

I'm not even going to make a joke about Just Kidding I'm Gonna Miss Free Pizza More.

I can't believe this part of the journey is almost over.

~ Stephanie

2016: The Best Year of My Life

More will come. Right now I'm still in shock. I've been shaking and beaming uncontrollably for the past...sixteen hours.

There was mud. And an argument. And literal fireworks.

And then my best friend, the man of my dreams, my rock, my partner, my love...

Got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

After gasping, asking if he was serious, and feeling tears of joy, I managed to say "Yes." It was the happiest and surest word I'd ever spoken.

Guys. Gem and I are engaged. I could not be any more joyful.

~Stephanie

Bitch, I Can Accomplish More Than One Thing

I’m not sure if I’m staying angry so that I can write this, or if I’m really still furious. I was definitely furious half an hour ago though, of that I am certain.

I teach a section of a class at Campbell called the Campbell University Freshman Seminar (CUFS). It’s basically just a required class for freshmen about how to succeed in college. To be a teacher of this class, I attend meetings every other week with all the other student teachers and we learn teaching strategies and styles etc. Tonight was one of those meetings.

Tonight’s meeting was about Stress Management, and Goal Setting. Stress Management was really fun: we did breathing exercises, listened to music, and colored. Then came Goal Setting, which involved The Stoplight "Game."

We were each given fifteen sticky notes (five green, five red, five yellow). On the red, we were to write things we want to stop doing next semester; on the green, things we want to start doing; on the yellow, things we want to keep doing.

At first it was hard to come up with things, but once the juices got flowing, I really enjoyed the activity. Visualizing my goals made me feel more productive and capable.

Then we lay all the sticky notes in front of us.

“All right,” Carrie, the leader, said. “Now, take away five of them. If you had to give up five goals for next semester, which ones would you discard?”

Ugh, that sucked after working so hard to pick really important things. I was annoyed.

“All right,” Carrie said. “Look at these ten things. These are the ten things you most want to be sure to do next semester.” We all nodded. “Okay, now take away five more.”

Now it just wasn’t cool. I stared at my goals, things like “Make Time for Creative Writing,” “Read my Bible Every Day,” and “Work Out More Consistently” and felt genuinely persecuted as I had to strip five more away. Who was this bitch to tell me that I could only accomplish five damn things next semester?

I still had seven when she beamed at the group again. “All right, now that you have five in front of you—” (“I still have seven,” I muttered to my small group as I finally stripped away "Stop Putting Off Getting Started" and "Start Writing Letters Again") “—I want you to take away two more.”

I glared at her. Wow. Now I had to take away “Blogging” and “Getting the Hard Stuff Done First” (an awesome strategy I’ve somehow just recently bought into).

“Now,” she said. “You guessed it. What if you could only have one goal in front of you? Discard two more. What is the most important thing to you?”

“Wow,” I muttered to my small group. “Obviously ‘Send Out My Resume and Get a Real Job” is the one thing that has to stay. I have to get a job.”

I stared at that little green sticky note which—just minutes ago—had held promise and productivity and passion, and I hated it. I hated its dirty fucking soul.

I had watched my colorful and well-rounded array of life goals boil down to “Hey Bitch. Get your ‘real’ life together.” I had watched goals like “Start Writing Letters Again,” “Eat Healthier,” and “Hang Out With My Roommates” get stripped away because they weren’t “as important” as practical or obligatory shit like “Read My Bible Every Day” (sorry, Jesus, I love doing that. I honestly do. Which is why it was fucking stupid to make me discard it) and “Send Out My Resume.”

It’s just not fair. Seriously, who is this bitch who thinks I can only accomplish one damn thing?!

We then had to continue this activity by sharing with the group and making a timeline for achievement, complete with intermediate goals. As people shared, they had fun insights like “My number one ended up being ‘Get Organized,’ and it’s funny because I realized that if I just get organized, I’ll actually achieve my number two and three goals, which were ‘Study More’ and ‘Sleep More.’”

“Great!” Carrie would say. “That’s great! That’s exactly right. Isn’t it cool how you figure out that by achieving your ultimate goal, a lot of the little things fall into place!”

Except that I actually arranged my goals so that they didn’t overlap like that. ALL of my goals were individually important.

“This might be a fun activity to do with your classes,” Carrie said. “We’re happy to provide sticky notes if you want to come by the office and grab some!”

I will set my classroom on fire before I subject my beloved freshmen to this, I thought.

See, I understand the purpose of the activity. It was to help us prioritize, and that part WAS really interesting. (So interesting that I’m actually going to end this post with my goals in order.) It just also depressed me completely.

Why would you make me come up with things I want to do with my life, then direct me to discard everything that adds color and joy and personality, because—sorry—they can’t realistically make the cut because I’d rather “Start Working Out” than “Start Writing Letters Again.” First of all, that makes me feel like a really shitty person when you make me visually depict the fact that I guess I care more about how I look than keeping in touch with people? Except that I don’t think I’m a shitty person (at least not because of that). I think I can do both of those things perfectly well. Back the fuck off and let me keep my goals.

I know I sound like I’m getting way, way, irrationally angry about this. And maybe I am. Maybe I’m just PMSing. But I just think it’s really painful and unhelpful to make a college senior reduce her life to “Get a Job, Bitch.” But maybe that’s just me.

We shoulda done the Stress Management Workshop last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

15. Clearing Out My Email Inbox Regularly

14. Meeting Up with My CUFS Kids/Keeping in Touch with Them

13. Wasting So Much Time on Facebook

12. Letting My Room Get So Messy

11. Assuming People Don’t Remember Me

10. Hanging Out with My Roommates

9. Eating So Much Junk Food

8. Making Time for Creative Writing

7. Writing Letters Again

6. Stopping Putting off Getting Started

5. Doing the “Hard” Stuff First

4. Blogging

3. Reading My Bible Every Day

2. Working Out More Consistently

1. Sending Out Job Applications/Resume

 ~Stephanie

A Small Breakdown

I had a small breakdown today.

My roommate and I went to see the play "Anne of Green Gables" this afternoon. I LOVED those movies as a kid. We have the entire movie series on VHS and I think I can probably still quote whole sections even though I haven't seen them in years.

Actually, before the play, I hadn't even THOUGHT about the story lately: the story of a little orphan girl with an unparalleled imagination, a big mouth, and dreams of authorship. I forgot how much Anne felt like childhood, felt like a legitimate part of MY identity, felt like home. Anne found a home in Green Gables, and I found my home today in her.

Suddenly I remembered how inspired I would get when I watched movies set in "olden days." I would start getting up at 7am and making my bed and eating an "old-fashioned" breakfasts and doing my chores right away and trying to wear dresses. I would make vows like ones Anne would make, about being a more conscientious person. I would try to be Polite and Well-Mannered and Hospitable.

Then my stomach started to sink with the startling realization that I am sort of grown up. There will not ever be another time when I can wake up and reinvent myself while my mom actually keeps my real life spinning. I actually DO have to get up at 7am and do my chores, because no one else is going to do them for me. I can't just lose myself in whatever pretend game I want anymore. I have to live my own, actual, real life.

And then--at the time it somehow seemed directly related to the above--I got really homesick. Lately I've been plagued by a gnawing feeling of homelessness. The couch and chair in my apartment living room are SINFULLY uncomfortable (the arms are bony, the leather seats stick to your skin, and the cushions come out the moment your ass touches them). My room is always messy because 1) it's small and 2) I never have the time or energy to keep it neat. Our kitchen sink is too shallow to wash dishes in and we don't have enough counter space to cook real food comfortably. My apartment does not feel like home.

But Gem's dorm is even worse. He's in your typical freshman dorm:  roommate, cinder block walls, loud AC unit, muggy as hell (the dehumidifier they just bought collects TWO GALLONS of water a day), and his bed is all the way lofted. You cannot sit up in bed at all. You're like 18 inches from the ceiling. It is like living in a prison cell. A humid, humid prison cell.

So, naturally, Home--my parents' house--is where my mind wistfully wandered.

Except that "Home" doesn't feel right anymore either. It has actually just started to feel like "my parents' house." Sure, it's familiar and the couch is comfy and the sink is deep and the counter space is fantastic and Mom's cooking is delicious and my room is clean (mostly because I don't live there anymore) and I can sit up in my bed, but...I don't know. It doesn't feel like a place where my soul is relaxed and snuggled up in a blanket anymore. It feels a little bit empty.

Although I'd give anything to be there now, of course. I really miss my family. I miss Mom's cooking and our inside jokes and her just "GETTING" me. I miss hearing Daddy's newest philosophical and political insights and going to the antique store with him and letting him show me his latest woodworking project. I haven't seen my sister in...a really long time. I don't even know when I saw her last. She pretty much just stays at college. She doesn't even respond to my texts, much less text me on her own.

But anyway. "Anne of Green Gables" made my heart and my throat ache with homesickness. And then my brain engaged and snorted at me:  Homesick? For where? Where is your home? And I didn't even know what to say.

My parents' house isn't Home anymore, and yet, I can't imagine feeling at home without my parents. This whole semester I've been excited to graduate and make my own "home": an apartment with all my books and my clothes and kitchen utensils where I cook food and watch TV and sleep and live real life. I've been so ready and so excited to make my own home.

But now I'm afraid that nowhere will ever feel like home, that I am incapable of creating "Home" by myself. I don't know how to do that. I'm afraid I'll always be a little homesick.

And I just started crying, right there in the play, right there in the dark theater house.

I'm not crying anymore, but I do feel lost and confused. What does Home really mean, anyway? Where Gem is? Where my books are? Where the damn couch cushions don't scoot out?

If I ever figure it out, I'm sure I'll let you know.

~Stephanie

Songs on Repeat These Days

"Waves"



"Stitches"



"Talking Dogs" These guys are great, by the way. You should check them out! My friend Alex Mckee is the lead singer and guitar player.



"The Hills"




~Stephanie

Debunked: Omg The Lion King is Hamlet

Tomorrow night I am going to see a live-streamed version of the play Hamlet, starring Benedict Cumberbatch. Be jealous.

In honor of getting to see my favorite play of all time, I would like to address a popular myth that absolutely fries me. It is the myth of

"Omg The Lion King is totes a retelling of Hamlet"

I would like to unmask this ridiculous falsehood by replying

"Bitch no it is not"

And, of course, providing evidence to that effect. So here we go.

WARNING: SPOILERS. I assume you know the story of The Lion King and don't mind some ruined "surprises" in Hamlet, but I believe there is a special circle of Hell reserved for people who spoil stories, and I am all about not going to Hell. So proceed at your own risk.

Similarities Between Disney's The Lion King and William Shakespeare's Hamlet

1. Both stories revolve around royalty. Congratulations, you have identified two works that feature royal families. This is only like one of THE MOST common elements in literature, and basically the MAIN element in classic Disney.

2. In both stories, the uncles kill the fathers in order to take the crown for themselves. This is a much better parallel, but, again, it's a common theme in stories. The little brother who wants his big brother's crown is pretty much a classic plot line.

3. In both stories, the ghosts of the dead kings appear. This would be a pretty convincing similarity if their roles weren't vastly, vastly, fundamentally different. See Differences...

Differences Between The Lion King and William Shakespeare's Hamlet

1. In Hamlet, the Queen Gertrude is involved in plotting King Hamlet's murder; in The Lion King, Queen Sarabi is clueless and loyal to King Mufasa.

2. In Hamlet, the uncle and the queen get married--rather quickly. In The Lion King, Scar and Sarabi never seem to have a positive relationship.

3. In The Lion King, the uncle frames the son, Simba--and Simba DOES play a role in King Mufasa's death. Yeah, it was Scar who orchestrated the whole thing, but in Hamlet, the King's death is presumed to have been from natural causes. Hamlet isn't even implicated.

4. In Hamlet, Ophelia and Hamlet are discouraged from marrying. In The Lion King, Simba and Nala are betrothed.

5. In The Lion King, Simba genuinely feels guilty for his father's death and flees. In Hamlet, the son sticks around and actually develops an investigation plan. Yeah, Hamlet goes to England for like four seconds, but that is not his idea, and he comes back ASAP.

6. In Hamlet, the love interest, Ophelia, goes crazy and dies. In The Lion King, Nala is a feisty and persistent character who makes Simba man (lion?) up.

7. The secondary characters are all completely different. Pumba and Timone are on Simba's side; Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's job is basically to spy and tattle on Hamlet. Nala doesn't have a brother (Ophelia has Laertes). Nala's father isn't in the picture at all (Ophelia's father is adviser to the king). Simba doesn't have a strong confidante who actually survives the play (Horatio).

8. In Hamlet, there is no Rafiki character.

9. In The Lion King, the ghost of Mufasa appears to Simba to give him strength and hope. In Hamlet, the ghost of King Hamlet appears to Hamlet to demand vengeance. Mufasa encourages peace; King Hamlet brings unease and frustration.

10. In Hamlet, everybody dies at the end (I mean, it is a Shakespearean tragedy). In The Lion King, it is pretty much happily ever after for everyone except evil Uncle Scar (and the hyenas).

And there you have it.

So next time you hear people say "Omg The Lion King is Hamlet," please slap them for me. And then make them read this post.

Sincerely,
Such a Nerd

I Don't Drink

As Told in Pairs

:)

~Stephanie