Self Analysis - part 39847234 in a 357907869730485345-part series

Ugh. Today has been pretty miserable so far. I woke up early to AJP leaving for class and the promise of another shitty contemporary play to read. I hate reading something and disliking it and not being able to argue why I dislike it until I hear someone else articulate why they dislike it and then agreeing with them. I get along well with my Dramaturgy professor because I think he understands and appreciates my academic writing; however, he mandates verbal class participation which is frustrating for me. I prefer to listen in class. Chances are, whatever insight I have, someone else will also have, but they inevitably will say it better. To be honest, I'm just not great at talking. I express myself much better when I have the time to edit, contemplate, re-edit, chastise myself, and re-edit again. In every class period, though, the professor calls on me and I end up blurting something incoherent and antithetical to what I actually mean, and everyone in class thinks I'm a fucking idiot because, to be fair, I sound like a fucking idiot.

So there's my frustration there. Also, I anticipate some kind of fisticuffs with the TA in that class because she keeps taking up the mantle of the professor. It's one thing when the professor calls on someone without their prompting - frustrating for me, but the professor is being paid to teach and if he chooses to teach a certain way, that's his business. But it's an entirely different situation when the TA picks on someone. I don't even know why that class has a TA. Her job seems to be to disrupt class with her own opinions and caress the professor's ego (which he doesn't even seem to want.)

Anyway, it's nice to know that no one reads this and it's not linked to anywhere so that I can vent without worrying about anyone in the Theater department getting all upset. Maybe that will happen; whatever, I'm graduating in two months and I don't even participate in the department outside of class.

Last night I watched the first hour and ten minutes of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which I think is the film that inspired me to study film. The first time I saw it, I was in high school; that was the same summer that Garden State and Napoleon Dynamite came out, I think. I loved both of those movies, too, but they certainly don't possess the same kind of intellectual lasting power that Eternal Sunshine does. I re-watched Garden State earlier this year and it struck me as flat and adolescent, while Napoleon Dynamite doesn't try to be anything more than what it is (admirable, but the movie itself has grown irritating.) Sure, Garden State also inspired me to study film, but after I studied theory I realized that Garden State isn't really worth studying. But I think you could write a cool paper or two about Eternal Sunshine. The difference, I think, is that Gondry's aesthetic evokes beauty in an insightful, provocative way, while Braff's aesthetic makes you say, "Oh, that was cool" and never care about it again.

The writing of this blog feels counter-intuitive because on one hand, no one is reading it and I don't really want anyone to read it. I like being able to write without the expectation of humor or real introspection or artistry. At the same time, I look back at the entry and wish it contained humor and real introspection and artistry. I guess this is the struggle that I constantly suffer as a student of writing. Mostly, I want to reaffirm that I exist. I have several great friends and we have great conversations, and yet I constantly feel solipsistic. Except I don't even feel like my mind exists. Putting my thoughts on the Internet to me, represents an interesting blend of the tangible and intangible. No, nobody reads this except me, but maybe someone who Googles Michel Gondry will someday read through all the possible search options and stumble on this and think, "Wow, someone was a liberal arts student and incredibly pretentious"; an unlikely scenario, but we can hope.

The Senior Portfolio class I'm taking this term focuses on examining our personal aesthetics as writers, why we write the way we do. I think my mentor/professor is trying to push me into writing less structurally, and I think blogging this way will help with that. Before class at 7, I have to make a free-association mind map, which I don't entirely understand but the process is based in transcendental meditation. I worry that I won't be able to turn off my rational mind sufficiently that I can do the assignment rather than doing what I think the assignment should be.

I feel that so much contemplation on how my brain works should logically fill me with something other than staggering self-doubt.

NARCISSISM