So today in class while everyone else was discussing Judith Butler, I was inscribing D O N ’ T P A N I C in big, black letters across the top of my notebook.

Why does Judith Butler write like a caricature of a feminist literary theorist? Argh. She makes me want to say: It doesn’t have to be so hard, Judith Butler!

Boy, do I hope Judith Butler doesn’t read this blog.

Neways, then after class I went to the library and ended up spending hours into the evening doing research for my Houellebecq paper. I’d forgotten how much I like researching, and how much I like that feeling before you sit down and write a paper, when you’re still getting all your thoughts together, and it’s all v. exciting, and sometimes it’s all treasure-hunty, like when I found out that not only is there already at least one book of Houellebecq criticism out there, but also it’s at our library, and no one’s checked it out. And ’cause it was just just published, the pages are still crisp, no one’s scribbled in it, there’re no grubby prints, and it’s still got that new-book smell. Yay, school.