MONTH HERE ... I'M IN LOVE with my ESSAY ... obviously
Yesterday there was the long-awaited verdict in the studio ... I went to the beloved Rand, and it was already after 5 minutes finished the interview, more than 20 minutes as happened to others.
Excellent ideas, well written [there is some micro error that I should be ashamed, pure errors of inattention to May 5 ...], I just have to fix, split into sections and make some reference to the verses of poetry, no big lavorone , Well begun is half done and I at least for literature in more than half ...
My creature struck in ... feel the best way to compliment a degree in English writing was yet to happen, more than anything else is absurd as 2 months in the writing has improved so much [in the first part is a hand of a member who corrected me the initial draft, but the other 1000 words and pass them to him I saved and I did not make big crap WOAW !!!].
So it seems that the Achilles' heel is being gradually put in place.
Prof. is very quiet and very gentle in manner, was very excited especially as I had directed the work [I dared a lot, so I was afraid, but I like to theorize my own way, without basarmi on the readings of others and we ended ...], talking at my university [I pointed out that they ITALIAN well, given the success dell'ESSAY], that here I break your back for 15 credits, but at least it's stuff that affects my course, which I made in ITALY 15 trials one academic year [the word "FIFTEEN" made a face hallucination, they sti Numeron here if you dream of luck for them], and asked me if I want to teach after graduation, and from there I explained my plans to conquer the world and she kindly wished me GOOD LUCK twenty times, even when I left.
And today found myself in front of me as I left the bathroom and greeted me with a beaming: "HI" and to me is what effect a moment ago that a prof so giving you greetings having fun ...
pool yesterday, this time CAOS unclean, needless OSTIA 15 of August ... but we were honored by the presence of Barbie ... 2 pieces (with the above range), pink shoking, all made up with foundation, blush and several outbuildings, which swam like a spastic for no wet hair and face ... and last but not least came out without showering ... W 's HYGIENE! But then is fashionable bikini at the pool ... but we are at the holiday village??
I am delighted with the exercises carpiatura however, that in water, attached to the starting blocks, almost seem easier ... (at least I am not attacking the back to back to take the sticks and then leave with the stigmata in his hands. ..). The results already begin
a vedersi...
SUI MIEI CAPELLI...!!![ovviamente prima di smaltire il lardo ne passerà buahahah].
Mi sto arROSCIando(ma sì andiamo a ritoccare questo termine-tabù per la sottoscritta...], grazie al potere immenso del CLORO, e la cosa ovviamente non mi dispiace, adoro questo colore, e mi stavo scurendo troppo...
Oggi lezione su "The Dead" di JOYCE ["DUBLINERS" *________*], ormai lo so a memoria e lezione potevo farla io, è 3 anni di seguito che analizzo sto testo, 1^ volta in 5°, e 2 volte in università, nota positiva: sono state dette 2 cosucce che NON sapevo, ma per il resto 2 righe d'appunti...E' un peccato però che stavolta sia mancata la lettura INTERA, ma il tempo è quello che è e certi lussi non sempre ci si possono permettere 18 pagine (più o meno, dipende dall'edizione, ma i numeri sono quelli), sono decisamente tante...
" It was in the winter," she said, "about the beginning of the winter when I was going to leave my grandmother's and come up here to the convent. And he was ill at the time in his lodgings in Galway and wouldn't be let out, and his people in Oughterard were written to. He was in decline, they said, or something like that. I never knew rightly."
She paused for a moment and sighed.
"Poor fellow," she said. "He was very fond of me and he was such a gentle boy. We used to go out together, walking, you know, Gabriel, like the way they do in the country. He was going to study singing only for his health. He had a very good voice, poor Michael Furey."
"Well; and then?" asked Gabriel.
"And then when it came to the time for me to leave Galway and come up to the convent he was much worse and I wouldn't be let see him so I wrote him a letter saying I was going up to Dublin and would be back in the summer, and hoping he would be better then."
She paused for a moment to get her voice under control, and then went on:
"Then the night before I left, I was in my grandmother's house in Nuns' Island, packing up, and I heard gravel thrown up against the window. The window was so wet I couldn't see, so I ran downstairs as I was and slipped out the back into the garden and there was the poor fellow at the end of the garden, shivering."
"And did you not tell him to go back?" asked Gabriel.
"I implored of him to go home at once and told him he would get his death in the rain. But he said he did not want to live. I can see his eyes as well as well! He was standing at the end of the wall where there was a tree."
"And did he go home?" asked Gabriel.
"Yes, he went home. And when I was only a week in the convent he died and he was buried in Oughterard, where his people came from. O, the day I heard that, that he was dead!"
[estrapolato da: "The Dead, James Joyce ]
Meanwhile, studies, and sociolinguistics opening today appeared on my "buddy," Saussure ... and I thought to have buried the last year ... who has not more s'arivede. .. ... But it seems the sun is beautiful ... that the days lengthened, he was amazing ...