Remember When?

Hey all, remember when I used to be a good blogger and kept you updated weekly? Yeah, I don't either. But, I feel really guilty about it, so I'm going to fix it this morning with a brief update in Regent's Library (next to my lovely friend, Amanda who may or may not be reading this over my shoulder).

It's 4th Week, which means I am half way through my last term at Oxford. Hold on, let me wipe that little tear away from my eye. OK, and I'm back. Yeah, so this term had been pretty busy, considering I only have one tute. But this one tute is very stressful; in fact, I've developed a complex. Since I only have my tutorial on Restoration Literature, I thought, "Hey, Jarred, why not give this everything you've academically got?" I showed up in 1st Week with an essay on the body in Milton's Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained with a little bit on Samson Agonistes. My tutor called my essay one of the strongest student essays she's read on Milton in a while. I was floored, as Milton gave me such a hard time; he's a very dense poet to sift through. My essay for 2nd Week was on Restoration comedies, and I really threw myself into that essay. I loved the plays I read (The Country Wife, The Man of Mode, and The Rover) which meant that writing the essay was so much fun. And my tutor told me, "Jarred, you clearly had fun writing this." She also told me that she was impressed by the work I've produced, and even said my Restoration comedy essay was borderline graduate level work. In one way I should be thrilled that she enjoys my work, but mostly, I'm terrified. Here's the complex: I'm so scared that those essays were flukes and that I really don't have the potential she sees in me and that the next essays I write will reveal what a Restoration lit fraud I am. And then I tell myself, "Get over it and write your next essay." It's an approach. I love the Restoration period, especially the theatre, although right now I'm supposed to be writing about the poetry of Katherine Philips and Hester Pulter. Instead, I'm blogging.

On the social front, I'm in another play, which has played a major role in me not blogging. I play an old man in an adaptation of Phillip Pullman's "I Was a Rat." It's quite a cute and fun show--a fairy tale type spectacle with a bit of social commentary thrown in. It opened last night, and I'm still waiting for our reviews. Perhaps I put some excerpts up if they're flattering or vaguely offensive (like last terms reviews for Instead of Beauty and Little Shop of Horrors). I love theatre, but with this new found Restoration Complex, I haven't enjoyed it as much as last term; all I can think is, "I should be working!" In fact, I SHOULD be working as this next essay is due in for tomorrow and this week "I Was a Rat" is playing, so I need to work. Like, now. I'll update you later, promise. Trust me, I'm an (almost) academic.

(Oh, and just to keep your eyes happy, I'm sharing a photo of me with Emanuelle, our college tortoise. Majestic is the only word I can think of to describe her beautiful and regal air.)