Oct 25, 1989. I’m taking a graduate-level courses to complete my undergrad degree. One is a seminar on Hemingway. I wrote this letter during class because I did not have the book being discussed: To Have and Have Not.
This room is really hot!! I took off my sweater and no one even noticed that I’m sitting here in my bra! They have been too busy talking about their definitions of what a “have” and a “have not” are… The lady beside me has a plain watch with a leather strap but she has a Kleenex under it. Like this:
…Hey! guess what I’m doing my seminar on next week? Existentialism in Hemingway. I hope to god the discussion that is spawned reaches above the already astoundingly high level of intellectual insight going on right now. Heh.
I remember discovering academic bliss when I finally ventured into interdisciplinary studies. Until then I was a big picture thinker trapped in a snapshot. Everything began to make sense when I started filling in the context around the authors we studied. Philosophy. Politics. Art.
I also remember how much I enjoyed sarcasm. I write, “[my partner] says I can be very sarcastic sometimes, it makes him mad when I’m sarcastic…I think I inherited it from my mother, who else?”
In this letter I tell Anne about my parents safely arriving at their new home on the west coast. That I’m excited I already have my plane ticket for a visit. Does that mean I did the right thing moving here myself last year? Will the challenges of this transition be worth it?
All these years later I can answer the question about the watch. Summer course in a hot humid city. The leather strap must have made her arm sweat.
All these years later I’m applying to grad school. An MA in interdisciplinary studies. Check!
All these years later and I’m making a mental note to stop censoring my sarcasm. An excellent attribute to compensate for the slow fade of youth methinks! Heh. Indeed.
