cimorene

i didn't mention how on monday the brother-in-law's friend who has water in his testicles hit me in the forehead with the car door. now there's a small vague pink bump on my forehead that hurts when i engage in any one of a number of activities:

+washing my face
+nuzzling wax's neck or shoulder
+raising my eyebrows
+banging my head repeatedly against the wall

according to my calendar, the last swedish course meeting is in six days. not only have we not talked about the exam, we've spent the last five days discussing tove jansson and astrid lindgren with a little detour into modernist vs post-modernist literary criticism yesterday, although the teacher didn't seem to know they had names. "det här," i said, "är ett gammalt krig inom den litterära kritiken."